A Day Late

When I was a young fisherman, the veterans of that long-ago time gradually began to accept me. After all, I was constantly on the stream and occasionally bumped into notable season-long fishermen like Michael “Pike” DiBartolome and Sam Lower, often bugging them about fishing strategies and times to be on the water. A few other “old timers” might not have always been truthful; but when DiBartolome or Lower told me something, it was trout-fishing gospel.

One piece of advice these local legends shared more than once was to be on the water as soon as possible after a rainstorm. “The water will be rising, and bugs, worms, and other food will be washing into the stream for the trout to eat. The trout will be feeding enthusiastically, and you can make good catches.”

I have often sallied forth after rainstorms and have enjoyed some active fishing at these times, but this strategy has not been consistently successful for me. For instance, after two drenchings that fell during mid-June, I hit the creek quickly, actually fishing during the first storm. However, the ground was so parched that the rain sank in, and creeks did not rise after either event. When a third storm dumped another 7/10” of water after the first two rains, I didn’t think too much about it. Following that rain on our evening drive, Donna and I checked several streams, which had been unaffected by the storm. I slept in the next morning. That evening while driving along another stream, Donna remarked, “Well, Rich, you missed it. This creek is still up a little and cloudy. You should have fished today.”

“I’ll go out tomorrow morning. Maybe I can catch the creek as it finishes going down.” (The veterans also advocated fishing as waters receded following rain events.)

It was a Sunday. Having only a couple hours to fish before church, I chose a favorite section of stream and probed it with my favorite nymph imitation. The water was only a little higher than it had been prior to the rainstorm, and the water had just a touch of color that disappeared during my two hours astream. The fishing, while a little better than it had been prior to the storm, was neither fast nor furious. I did manage to land a number of lovely trout, with a 17-inch wild brown trout being the morning’s biggest.

I realized that if I had fished the previous day, the outing might well have turned into a “big day.” I was a day late.