It is a very rare occurrence when the small creeks I fish are too high for me to wade. I’m a certified kayak instructor and paddle white water so my tolerance level is darn high for wading. That being said, today was one of those days when I can say that the water was not wadable. Slate Run was bursting from its banks and most of it was simply a channelized torrent of water powered by two days of rain and snow melt from a recent unseasonable warm up.

Since I could not wade across the creek at any point, I resigned myself to walking dry land looking for slivers of slower water along the bank. I managed to find just a handful of decent fishable pockets of water but that was enough to land a few nice brown trout.

The natural beauty surrounding Slat Run is always worth the trip regardless of how many trout are landed. I was greeted by a knee high snow pack that chilled the low lying woods surrounding the creek. My only reprieve from the cold was the sparse rays emanating from the early morning sun.

The first feisty brown trout loaded my 10 foot nymphing rod with steady weight. I followed with a quick hook set. It was a strong beautifully colored specimen that pressed my tippet hard several times as it dashed into the heaviest current harnessing the power of the water in hopes of escaping. I leaned heavier on the fish than I would like and brought the fish to my waiting net with a steady sweep of the rod.

When I encounter high green or stained flows, I often tie a squirmy worm on my dropper line for starters. The one I used today was tied on a jig style hook with a tungsten bead. It’s a productive variation of the “usual” squirmy worm tie. The pattern I used today was tied on a size #16 jig hook. My second heavy point fly was a simple Caddis Larva tied on a size #10 competition hook with an oversized tungsten bead. This was all I needed to get my flies scraping bottom today. The squirmy was responsible for all but one of the brown trout that I caught today. A clear winner on this particular day.

The last trout I caught was definitely the prettiest and undisputedly the toughest to land. It pounced on my squirmy worm within the first couple feet of the drift even before my flies had reached the bottom. It doubled over my 10 ft. 3wt hooking itself. I quickly applied side pressure as the fish used the softer current of the eddy to glide into the heaviest deepest current. The trout and I were locked in a stalemate for several seconds that felt to me like minutes. The trout was seemingly glued to the bottom.

I momentarily thought that I was making ground on the trout as it moved my way. That was wishful thinking. This was an educated Slate Run trout. These trout have a PHD in outsmarting fly anglers. My relief quickly turned to anxiety. The trout turned and swam into a thick fast flowing wave train simultaneously bolting hard down stream headed for a chute of water that lead into a long stretch of white water.

I knew if the brown trout reached the heavy rapids that the fight was over. The water was too fast and deep. I would not be able to follow the fish. I’d have to break the fish off. He was far from the biggest brown tout that I’ve ever caught but this trout’s instincts were strong and it used the current masterfully against me. I had no choice. I locked the fly line agains my rod blank with my finger and I leaned hard on the fish. I stopped the run. My rod now bowed deeply and straining, I could feel the powerful head shakes of the trout as it dug in as well.

The fight had become “personal” now. I had to land the fish not matter what. I made a not so prudent snap decision to jump into the waste deep sliver slower water and do what I call a “Hail Mary” landing. In preparation for the Hail Mary, I stripped in my fly line as tight as I dared while still holding the trout at bay, grabbed my landing net and jumped. As my feet hit the bottom of the creek, I made a long overhead sweep of the rod bringing the fish both closer to the top and closer to me in one motion. I thrust my net out toward the trout mentally willing my normal reach to extend an additional 10 inches toward the trout. The battle was over. I scrambled out onto the bank clutching my net with the brown trout cradled inside. As I released the trout, a sense of total satisfaction came over me. It was time to stop fishing. It has been my experience that the fishing gods will often tell you when to end your day… you just have to listen.