Steelhead
Winter Egg Patterns
Fly
Fishing Adventures
My
Grandfather's Water| Trout live in Beautiful Places by Matt Chapple | |
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 One of youthful Fly-fisherman's many challenges. |
Fly-fishing brings many challenges. It is constantly evolving, which is part of the attraction to this wonderful sport. Whether it is learning entomology, tying a fly your own creation or discovering a new technique, each outing brings new experiences and catching a fish is an added bonus to the already wonderful experience. |
| There seems to be an overwhelming attraction to what is considered “Big Game Fishing. ” Sure any angler who has experienced it will agree, there is nothing like fighting a lake run fish, such as a steelhead or landlocked salmon. They are tremendous and are two angler favorites. Let us not forget, there is also nothing like stalking small stream rising brown trout on your knees, trekking through knee deep snow to your favorite winter fishing spot, or hiking into your favorite brook trout stream during the peek of fall foliage. Like the proverb says, “life is a journey, not a destination.” |  Matt cast to a deep hole along the rocky bank. |
 A beautiful beaver dam had plenty of trout, but you were in trouble if you forget to bring bug stuff. |
Trout live in beautiful places and in New York alone, there are too many trout inhabited places to visit in a lifetime. On one of my earliest fly fishing adventures, my grandfather and I bushwhacked for what seemed like hours. We hiked into this place that Grandpa said would have Brook Trout. When Grandpa pulled over to the side of the road, I said, “where is the fishing spot.” He replied “we’ll have to walk into it.” |
| After gathering all our gear, lunch and drinks, we headed into the woods, and I remember thinking “I don’t see any stream?” Well finally after hiking a bit the sound of babbling water resonated through the forest and we approached the stream. The stream was no more than 10 feet wide. It ran crystal clear and man was it cold. We walked adjacent to the stream for a while through some mature hardwood forest and being a kid, I was wondering when we would fish. Soon thereafter I stopped wondering, the forest opened up into a vast meadow. At the head of the meadow was a large pond, which was created by a beaver dam. At the base of the dam the water was bubbling out into a frothy pool of turbulence. The beauty of this picture is burned into my memory forever. Once we got there catching a Brook Trout at the base of a beaver dam seemed like a dream. That is what we did. As soon as my wet fly hit the water, a fish came right up and ate it in less than a few seconds, and like the breathtaking place where it lived, this fish was the most beautiful fish I had ever seen. One of New York’s only native species and not a footprint to be seen other than our own. | |
 One of Matt's boy hood Brook Trout catches |
“Tis
not all of fishing to fish.” |
| The pictures shown are
of Matt Chapple Fly-fishing as a young boy in the Adirondack
Foothills. Compliments of the Central New Yorker. | |
