For several years I’ve stood on the sidelines and listened to people expound on ideas about global warming. At first I thought it might be a Chicken Little and the sky is falling theory, but this spring’s odd weather conditions and their profound effect on normal fishing patterns has given me second thoughts.
Ice out and subsequent spring trolling on local lakes was 10 days to two weeks early, with very spotty success and short lived action due to a few unusually warm days. Fiddlehead season was early as well and although the crop was excellent the picking season peaked quickly and ended sooner than most years. River trolling on the Aroostook, Meduxnekeag, and Fish rivers was also short-lived due to quickly receding stream levels, but on the plus side wade- fishing got underway at least two weeks early.
Because of those unique weather and water changes I got to experience a special outing for the first time in over 40 years of spring fishing. A friend and I cast dry flies during a full hatch on a stretch of the Prestile Stream and enjoyed catching and releasing over two dozen trout in just over an hour. The bizarre part is that our dry fly success took place during the second week in May, a time when I’m usually bundled in two layers of clothes and trolling a local lake under an overcast sky in a chilly wind.
Regular rain every couple of days has helped maintain moderate stream levels as well as keeping the water temperatures cool. Throw in a couple of unusually warm, sunny days and suddenly the wildlife, fish and insects get a bit confused and think summer might have arrived. Tom Tardiff, an old friend from Robinson, an avid outdoorsman, a local guide and a commercial fiddlehead picker actually discovered the early hatch. While working a remote shoreline of the Prestile filling bags with tasty green ferns he heard a trout splash. Despite a heavy layer of insect repellent the mosquitoes were surrounding him like a moving, buzzing cloud, yet he was still astounded to see insects emerging and flying off the water surface at mid-afternoon. Even more surprising was the number of trout boiling on the brook to engulf and feed on the hatching insects.
Tom called me on his cell phone from the shoreline, and I thought he was joking until he stated that he was on his way home to grab his fly rod and chest waders. Skeptical the hatch would last but afraid to pass up the opportunity, I told Tom I’d pick him up in 45 minutes and began running about the house like a madman assembling my own dry fly equipment. Just over half an hour later I was pulling into Tom’s driveway and 15 minutes after that we were donning chest waders at the end of a planted potato field near the brook.
I think we were both a bit amazed as we arrived on the riverbank to find fish still rising all along a 100-yard run. The insects leaving the water surface were medium size, larger than a mosquito and grayish-brown in color. We each tied on a Henderson, Tom a size 16 and I went one hook larger, a size 14, and we carefully searched for solid footing in the swift, cold flowage.
The trout were working the bank edges in an attempt to avoid the faster current at midstream, so Tom and I each picked a shoreline and began casting. Once a fish rose to take an insect, we would pinpoint its feeding spot, wait a few seconds and lay out a cast a couple of feet upstream so our fake fly would float high and dry into the feeding window. Invariably the trout would rise and slurp in the Hendrickson and we’d set the hook, occasionally the small hook pulled free but often we enjoyed a feisty fight in the fast stream flow.
Most of the trout were 7- to 10-inches but Tom and I each got a couple of true 12-inchers that really put up a tussle on our 4-weight outfits. As fish got caught or got smart we worked our way downstream hooking and losing or catching and releasing a bunch of brightly speckled brookies. At dusk the hatch dwindled then stopped completely and you’d swear there were no trout at all, so we packed it in and meandered back to the truck.
A day of rain followed, than two days of heavy wind and nights of frigid, frosty temperatures. Ahh, now there’s the May weather we all know so well. There has been one more hatch since, last week for an hour or so, but there will be more as the weather warms so better rig a dry fly rod and be ready. Keep an eye on the Aroostook River, Presque Isle Stream, Meduxnekeag, St. Croix, Fish River, Prestile and the Machias; this global warming may have the climate fouled up but the fly fishing is great.