Off the Trail: A Brook Trout Adventure
Shawn Odell with a beautiful WV Brook Trout!
I rarely sleep well the night before a fishing trip. I feverishly check the weather and water levels as if I can optimize them with telekinetic powers.
My phone alarm goes off at 4:15 AM, but I have been awake for half an hour. The excitement, anticipation, and last-minute planning amplify the brevity of an already short night. I grab my clothes and quietly sneak out of the house like a ninja to my already-packed vehicle. A quick stop at Sheetz to fill the tank, grab a terrible coffee, and I'm on the road!
I know I have a long drive, but the excitement grows with each county I pass through. And when I finally get into the mountains of Pendleton County, a euphoric feeling enters my bloodstream. There is just something about being in these mountains that makes you feel so small but so connected to this great state.
Picture of Pendleton County, WV by Ricky Burgess
Today's adventure takes me to a new piece of water, or "blue line," specifically. I have never fished this stream, but I have some inside information from my best and most trusted fishing friend—something I never take for granted and almost always proves helpful. I pull up to a small, gated service road and park my vehicle out of the way. I can now see the water and hear it rushing through the valley. That sound is something all anglers love to hear. It is almost time!
I quickly gear up, tossing my trusty Simms waders and boots on. I lose my jacket as this day will start cold and warm up just enough. I rig up my fly rod with my glass 7'6 three weight which will be plenty suitable for the mission. Most times, I already know the fly I will be using, but this morning, I am a bit torn. With the colder water temps and deeper pools, I have noticed that I will be nymphing. Simply put, Nymphing is fishing with an artificial fly that imitates aquatic insects in their juvenile or larval state. Nymphing is also my least favorite style of fly fishing! But for today, it may be the ticket.
I am targeting the crown jewel of West Virginia trout or char, to be more specific, the Native Appalachian Brook Trout!
“A fish that, although very small proportionately, drive anglers crazy. And by crazy, I mean it burns into your soul once you fish for them. They only live in beautiful places, and our great state is a mecca for them.”
- Shawn Odell
They are arguably the most stunning fish, with colors and features so distinct they genuinely belong in an art gallery. Although the fish range in size from 2-8 inches typically, the chances of running into a 10-13 inch or even 14' are slim, but that is exactly what drives dedicated fly anglers deeper into the woods.
It's a short hike to the stream but good anglers know that true success lies with one's willingness to get off the beaten path and put in the miles. I typically won't even fish the first mile, but there are some nice plunge pools and beautiful run-outs, so I throw a couple of casts in here and there. Nothing going…but that makes sense, and I push on.
It is refreshing when the service road, trail, or fisherman's path disappears. This lets me know I am getting closer to the "wild" water. I finally come upon an elevation gain into a gorgeous plunge pool where the stream forks into two. I think to myself, this is the spot. I cast into the back of the pool first to ensure no one is hiding in the tail out, and…nothing.
My next cast isn't exactly accurate and more into the actual waterfall than I had wanted, and bang! I pick up my first native of the day. It's a nice healthy fish, around 6-7 inches, with some pale coloration, red and yellow spots, with blue halos. An excellent first fish of the day!
Pushing on further, I pick up fish occasionally, but I am in no way "crushing it." The bite isn't very strong, and the beautiful natives are more nipping at the fly than fully committing. The mountain water is ice cold, and the air temperature is increasing slower than I hoped. Negative thoughts enter my head, and I wonder if today isn't the day. These are the typical mind games anglers play during an outing. At around 9:45 AM, I place a cast into a tiny auxiliary pool I typically wouldn't even throw into and, of course, pull out what will end up being the biggest fish of the day—a stunning 9–10-inch native with the brightest orange colored underbelly.
The grin on my face is almost comical. This is what I came for!
The day continues, and the fishing picks up nicely. The temperature has increased, and the sun even makes a brief guest appearance. The fly I had chosen earlier in the morning is producing! I don't even contemplate changing it. I'm picking up fish everywhere now; they are all beautiful and healthy. I stop, smell the roses, and even crack a ceremonial craft beer made by Big Timber Brewing Company. Looking up at how far into the canyon I am, I feel small but connected to my surroundings.
Can’t beat a cold West Virginia craft beer deep in the mountains!
I tell myself I will stop and head back soon, but every turn produces a more picturesque plunge pool, and I can't stop! I hike further into the unknown, and my soul feels refreshed. You see, it's more about the total experience. The fish are great, but they are just a piece of this. And with brookie fishing, it's almost always like that.
As I check the watch and think about the long hike back, I decide it is time. It coincidentally starts to rain, and the wind begins to pick up significantly. The path out is always more treacherous, but I truck on, passing back by the productive spots I had fished earlier - a reminder of this stream's absolute beauty and magnitude.
It's been well over an hour, and I start to feel that the woods have swallowed me up, but then I find the familiar carved-out path that started my journey. The service road means my adventure is over, but the smile will be stuck on my face for the rest of the day.
