Brook Trout … Brookies to fly fisherman around the world, are vibrantly colored and striking native gems that biologists say migrated down the east coast of the US during the last ice age. Isolated to small streams among the Appalachian Mountains, forever confined to tiny pools and pocket water, Brook Trout, Salvelinus fontinalis, have survived the most adverse conditions imaginable. Low water, wild predators and even fisherman have endlessly pressured them, but despite all they continue to survive and, here in Virginia they thrive. Natives to this area, they continue to beat the odds day to day and from one season to the next.
Every time I see one I’m reminded of the genuine miracle that they are, and that fact brings me back into the mountains each time to find them again and again.
Noted author John Voelker, known by his pen name Robert Traver, speaking about trout in general, summed up exactly my feelings about them an their kin, and this blog is about my experiences chasing these guys around.
“I fish because I love to; because I love the environs where trout are found, which are invariably beautiful, and hate the environs where crowds of people are found, which are invariably ugly… because trout do not lie or cheat and cannot be bought or bribed or impressed by power … because mercifully there are no telephones on trout waters; because only in the woods can I find solitude without loneliness; because bourbon out of an old tin cup always tastes better out there; because maybe one day I will catch a mermaid; and finally, not because I regard fishing as being so terribly important but because I suspect that so many of the other concerns of men are equally unimportant – and not nearly so much fun.” - Robert Traver
Thanks for the visit and come back often.
><((((°> ><((((°> FISH HARD or GO HOME <°))))>< <°))))><
