The Trout Blind

I grew up next-door to a state park, and finding a hunters blind as a kid was not all that uncommon. Sometimes simple stick piles resembling my idea of a Sasquatch nest, sometimes elaborately woven cat-tail Man-towns in the middle of acres and acres marshland that make you feel lost at sea.   The spent 12ga shells are usually the only thing left behind by the previous occupants.  however, sometimes, these hide-aways are pondside, streamside, or situated so that a long stretch of stream can be observed.

This Little hole in the woods, known secretly by  four fly-fishermen as the 'trout blind' can be a magical spot.  Even if you aren't pulling in brookie after brookie, it's easy to get distracted just watching the trout rise for hours.  

   Usual course of action is... 

1. Be quiet, and sneak into position.

2. Open a beverage, spark a smoke, and watch for at least ten fifteen minutes. 

3. Match the insects you have observed, and cast a dry fly at the rising trout. 

4. catch trout

5. Repeat steps 2-4

More often than not, this works out just fine. 

I like collecting old bottles I find in the woods, or at tag sales, and then using them.  This one today was filled up with some homemade thrice distilled hard cider.  kinda like whisky, just more apple-y. this 6ish oz bottle was just enough for me and my accomplice.  My wife's father is named John, I think that's what made me pick this one up at a yardsale, however, we have no family from Mass.  John, like the rest of our families, is from S.E. Conn.

ok... mood is set, its quiet enough to hear the trout rising.

there were the usuals.. Caddis and stones & shucks floating in the water.   (and whatever this thing is....

as it turns out, the trout were eating emerging stones. as well as the occasional large mystery bug above the film. (many large leaps were seen, where these flies were taken out of mid air!) {by 6" brookies}

 The first brookie to hand escaped the camera, partly because as I was trying to net him, a slip on the snowy moss streamside sent my right foot into freezing water, and in-turn, gave just enough slack to allow an escape off of a barbless hook. two smaller fish were taken, although camera-shy.

time spent in the woods is priceless.   (that's fisherman S)

 If you ever come across this spot, or one like it, keep it quiet&clean&secret.  {poachers honor}