I’ve fished the East Branch of the Croton quite a few times this Spring and early summer and usually every cast into a riffle produces a small to medium-sized rainbow. Instead its a lot of wily baby browns. No matter, a trout is a trout. And yesterday, while I was fishing with fellow Brooklyner Michael, we did get into a very serious rainbow indeed.
Michael saw that an enormous tree had fallen across the river and noticed another fallen log running parallel to the water. He immediately thought, “This is a lot like Alaska (where he once guided), and I’m going to need to swing a wet.” Now, swinging a big black wooly bugger in the middle of a 90-degree day on a river less than twenty feet wide might make a veteran angler roll his eyes, but Michael’s twenty years of fly fishing made his instincts kick in. He was sure there had to be a fish in that hole. And there was. Happy 4th of July!