Opening Trout Day 2008

The days are getting longer, the weather is warming up, and flowers are starting to blossum. It's finally spring, that magical time of year when the Pennsylvania Fish and Game Comission dumps buckets full of trout into every lake river and stream allowing fisherman to catch these heralded freshwater gamefish.

While soaking a glob of powerbait along a crowded, litter-strewn bank may seem a tad less refined than drifting a dry fly in a quiet mountain brook, Opening Trout Day in Pennsylvania has nonetheless worked its way into being a yearly tradition of mine. It may also be the only time all year that I wet a line in freshwater, and I look forward to it each year.

Most of the year, my fishing is frantic. I obsess over tide, wind, and moon phases trying to find the right combination for each of my dozens of fishing spots. Finding fish is 90% of being a successful fisherman. Therefore most of my efforts and lost sleep have to do with this aspect of angling. On opening trout day, however, the state makes sure the fish are there, and the fisherman can concentrate on having fun (athough I guess fishing is always supposed to be fun).

The past few seasons my opening trout day partners have been my buddy Jerry and my dad. Having long moved on to much more challenging fishing scenarios, catching the trout is a bit anti-climatic, so in order to spice up the catching, we've taken to making contests.
First trout, first limit, most trout, and largest trout make up the four categories of our Trout Day Tournament.

Last year, my father took the first trout mere seconds after the opening whistle at 8:00, and less than 10 minutes later I had caught and released my limit of five trout. By 8:15 the three of us had all caught limits, and around 8:30 Jerry landed the best trout of the day, a 17" brown that fell for a tube jig. Although my Dad left at 8:30, he still managed 8 trout overall. Jerry and I fished up until lunch and slugged it out for most trout. By the time we called it quits, my black roostertail had given me a decisive edge, and I won the day 45 'bows and browns to Jerry's 35.

Opening Trout Day wasn't always that easy. Years ago, the third saturday in April would be as highly anticipated as Christmas morning in the Fee house. I would toss and turn the entire night, envisioning a big palomino or giant brown sucking down my waxworm. When I was 9 years old, a misstep sent me sliding down the bank and into a pool full of trout just 10 minutes into trout season. I arrived home shivering, wet, and fishless. Another year, a torrential down pour the night before made Darby Creek look like the Columbia River, and in all likelihood, the trout were swept down stream, far beyond the area I was fishing. Once again, I went home with an empty stringer.

Good or bad, trout fishing has given me a lot of memories. This week as I restock my black spinners, and grab a new jar of yellow powerbait, I still can't help but picture dropping my bait right in front of the big palimino and watching it eat it, streaking upstream as soon as he feels the sting of the hook. It's a welcome reprieve from a year's worth of intense striper fishing, a chance to slow down, have some laughs, and catch a few fish.