It was January 2nd and I was packing for the second annual freeze up fishing trip on the Presumpscot river in Windham, Maine. I fed the line through my guides and put a size 22 mayfly nymph under the strike indicator. i had to try my hardest to catch a fish in the next two days. The next day I woke my mom up at 6:00 and she had her coffee, then we were on the road. When we finally reached the Great Drainage Ditch (another nickname), I hooked up with my friend Alan, and we were ready to go upstream. We began walking upstream, only to find that the dead water had no ice. I quickly searched the log pool with the nymph rig, and then walked down to the rock that Alan was standing on. Out of nowhere, I saw a blur soar out of the water two feet away from Alan. Too bad that brookie didn’t see his tiny CDC midge! Alan quickly spotted a pool of fish in the dead water. We slowly drifted streamers into their faces. Without any takes, we decided to walk back to the bridge to where the rest of our party was hanging out. We reached the bridge only to find out that Kevin (our leader) had already caught two fish. I started fishing in the big drop-off from the bank. Now this was tricky fishing! The fish had seen almost everything from heavy fishing pressure, and wading in the water was not an option. My line was frozen, so I was casting with a 12’ leader! Everybody eventually went to the parking lot for hot dogs and chili. I was left fishing. Trying not to spook the fish with my bright green fly line, I tied on a muddler. It had to work, since these fish looked like they needed a big meal without much effort. It did. A brown swallowed my muddler and I raised the rod to 12:00. These fish also knew how to fight. He knew everyone’s weakness and ran straight at me. I grabbed my net and tension was lost on my line. He was gone. I tied on an olive zonker and danced it into a fish’s space. He took, and I set the hook hard. Once again he ran straight at me, and only this time wrapping around my legs. I grabbed my net and he was soon in the rubber lining. High five’s were exchanged, along with a few more tips. Nothing like a winter fish!
Great Story fisherboy! wish i coulda been there to “exchange high five’s with you guys.” – seems like you worked hard and faced the winter elements but it paid off for you. soon enough, spring will be here and all those trout will be feeding on top.
Until then….bundle up…and keep catching em.
Only in Maine will a young man face elements like that… I can see fighting the cold for steelhead but small brookies.. Only in Maine !! You are truely a die hard… Nice to the fly fishing fever in the younger generation. Thanks for the story Joe-m
Yeah, it was unbelievably cold. I don’t know, but living 15 minutes from a year round trout river draws me to it, even though I could get a hole in my waders and die! Always carry an emergency space blanket! Please excuse the face in the picture and look at the fish! Thanks for the compliments. Tight lines