Salters

It's been three weeks since the end of Trout Season. In that time I've caught 2 tiny bluegill. It's better than nothing, but I'm starting to feel the itch big time, so the only thing to do is plan future trips!

Red Brook

Recently I've been binge-listening to the Orivs Fly Fishing Guide Podcast. It's free, incredibly informative, and Tom Rosenbauer's easy-going sense of humor keeps it interesting even after listening to several episodes in a row. In one episode Tom said something that stuck out to me: "For some anglers, planning the trip is the best part". While I think the actual fishing is still the best part, I have to admit I do love the planning stages.

"The Rock" 

There's something gratifying about trawling through pages and pages of Google searches and fishing forums to find that one tidbit of information that leads to a good spot. Many anglers are tight-lipped about fishing information on the internet, and I understand this sentiment (there are a few streams I will never share), but I'm glad that a few let a little bit slip. If you're in a position where you need to drive at least 30 miles to find wild trout, a picture of a big wild fish with a recognizable landmark in the background or a report from a state electroshocking survey goes a long way towards the decision of where to go.

A trail in the uplands near Red Brook

I'm currently planning a trip to fish for Salters, or Sea-run brook trout. Few people know that brook trout, like most salmonids, exhibit anadromy if they have access to the sea. Because the native range of Brook trout only reaches sea level in New England and Canada, where coastal areas are heavily populated, there are very few salter streams left. Luckily, we still have a couple in Southeastern Massachusetts, where large sand and gravel aquifers provide cold groundwater year round.

A not-so-nice picture of a nice Red Brook salter 

My favorite, and the only I've fished, is Red Brook. There's tons of information on this stream online, so I'm not worried about mentioning it by name. In addition, it's difficult to fish and C&R artificial lures only, so only the most serious wild trout anglers are likely to catch anything. This is one of those streams where a one fish day is a success. Despite its difficulty, Red Brook will always hold a special place in my heart. It's where I caught my first wild Massachusetts brook trout, as well as my largest wild brook trout. The aquatic vegetation undulates in the slow smooth currents, easily visible through the crystal clear spring water. With little drop in elevation, there are very few riffles, so stealth is of utmost importance. Combine that with numerous overhanging branches and you get a very difficult fly fishing experience. But it's all worth it when you feel a large wild brook trout on the end of the line.

Looking across the Estuary towards Buttermilk Bay

I'm hoping to get out to this stream around the holidays, when I usually visit family in the area. Based on research conducted by UMass (Link), theres a good chance that the fish will be feeding in the estuary or bay around then, which means two things: more casting room and bigger fish. Only the big fish move into salt water, and the salt marsh where the stream flows into Buttermilk Bay will be far more forgiving than the stream for casting. This trip is still a long way off, but I'll post updates when/if it happens.

There aren't many aquatic insects in Red Brook, but there are plenty of baitfish. I accidentally snagged this juvenile herring minutes before I caught the salter above. The herring were swimming downstream by the hundreds and the trout were gorging themselves.