Hopped up on the joy of summer dry fly bites and days accompanied by t-shirts and
sandals, people forget how blissful the season of change can be.
To me, there’s few experiences more joyous than watching the clouds blanket my atmosphere as I head to the river bank. The usual deep green of the mountains melds into a fluorescent yellow and the clouds remain feathery and wraithlike. Despite the dark imagery, one can only be filled with awe when in such a setting.
Humans aren’t be the only ones that love this season. Cooling temperatures, higher cloud volume, and less tourists? Conditions like this make for happy trout.
Similar to the landscape, the behavior of the river’s inhabitants aggressively shifts during the fall. Brown trout have a seemingly endless hunger and tenacity as they either prepare or wrap up their spawning season, resulting in the best streamer fishing of the year.
For me, this means pure joy. As someone who can barely make out the shape of his own dry fly on the water, streamer fishing is as good as it gets.
The setup is quite simple. During this time of year, my 6-weight stays vaulted atop my car, and if things are really going my way, the same fly and loop knot hang tight as well.
My favorite aspect of the season is its permission granted to take a minimalist approach to targeting a seemingly assuming fish. Autumn has a fascinating ability to humble trout, reminding anglers that they’re wet, hungry, and swimming, just like every other fish on the planet.
This means that as long as I have my favorite patterns and some extra leaders on hand, I won’t have a problem catching fish.
The fly that usually sits above my reel seat all season is some variation of a shaggy rabbit strip with an intruder hook tied on the back. Nothing complicated is required when targeting fall browns. They’ll lurch at nearly anything that moves, so fall is also prime time to test new fly patterns.
The simplicity of streamer fishing brings me joy. When it comes to fly fishing, there’s nothing more childlike than chucking a patch of fur on a hook into a fishy spot. Perhaps I’m an unrefined angler- I hardly bear the patience to nymph or the vision to fish dries.
To the same extent, I’m also not a fan of excessive preparation to fish nor getting stuck in the snow. So even in face of the season’s motif of change, autumn represents simplicity to me. The ritual that goes into each outing is humble- a slip into my waders and a knot to my fly.
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