May 3 – Sunday –
After a good breakfast I fished the Natchaug just below the lodge and put on Rocco’s fly. I had a hit on the second cast. Amazing. Some boys came with spinners and I surrendered the pool to them. Some people get annoyed when this happens but anyone from age 8 to 21 who is out fishing with whatever gear they have is a good sign to me that our sport will carry into the next generation. I sat in a comfortable chair and watched their antics which included some fishing.
I bid everyone goodbye and headed out to fish either the Bigelow or the Mount Hope River, and maybe the Fenton. Lots of water around here. I had seen a car pulled off Route 44 where the Bigelow crosses it but there was only room for one. If it was empty I would fish there. If not I would go up to Route 89 and fish the Mt. Hope. The Fenton would be on my route up to 84 so that was always a possibility as well.
The spot was empty and I made the U-turn into it. The guide book had promised quiet wilderness-like environment but the sounds of the Sunday motorcycle clubs were very apparent. The pool below the bridge is large and deep. I decided to go dry fly and worked it with a few variations before putting my emerger back on. (I put Rocco’s away for safe keeping to use as a model when I get home and to the bench.)
I worked my way downstream and before long the noise subsided as the river runs away from the road. It was suddenly quiet. Very quiet. A promise fulfilled. Lots of runs to test and caddis scurrying about. I spied a large boulder further down, which surely had a deep pool around it, and figured I would walk to it on the bank so as not to disturb anyone who might be enjoying the solitude along with me. As I lifted myself up, I was startled as was the long, grey snake who was sunning himself where I had decided to travel. He sprang up and for an instant I didn’t know if he was striking at me or just getting out of the way. Thankfully it was the latter as he dove into the stream and disappeared.
I fished the morning away and explored a good bit of the Bigelow, picking up a small rock for my collection. Three new rocks this trip – Natchaug, Still and Bigelow. I generally don’t count a rock if I don’t catch a fish but I am not sure I will see the Bigelow again and wanted one to remember it by.
On the road for home I passed the Mt. Hope and the Fenton, both looked inviting. Brook trout-like waters worthy of some time if I am ever back this way…maybe a little later in May next time. Maybe when the hatches are stronger. Maybe when I can relax into fishing instead of exploring.
If you are enjoying my posts, please consider trying my 3 book series – Letters to Mack, Correspondence on a Fishing Life – click here.
Please use the icons below to like, share and re-tweet. Thanks!