The small spring brook required an accurate, ever so short fly cast – 15 feet tops – to present the fly beneath an undercut bank where brookies lay in shade out of sight of predators.
So many fly rods cannot make 10- to 20-foot, precise casts because manufacturers design most of them to have 30 feet of fly line in the air before the rod action works perfectly. It's just the nature of the beast.
However, I had bought a fly rod especially for making ultra-short casts on tiny brooks such as this one, brooks a long-legged guy like me could jump across with a good running start. This purchase illustrated my serious commitment to Maine brook fishing.
The rod, an Orvis 6-foot, 4-weight, 4.0 full flex in the Superfine series, sent a size 12 Hare's Ear through a narrow tunnel of alders before the nymph landed gently just upstream of the target.
"Bull's-eye," I whispered, and two seconds later, an 11-inch brookie put a serious bend in the wispy rod.
After I had the trout in hand, an obvious question popped to mind. How could this fish grow so big in such limited habitat?
The answer – it couldn't. The trout reached this size in a marginal pond downstream before running upstream in the heat of summer, even in a cool summer such as this one. Perhaps instinct more than water temperature had brought it into flowing water.
The brook originated from springs on the side of a mountain and flowed under a canopy of shrubs and trees. The dense upper story helped keep the spring water in the 60-degree range, even in hot summer.
That's the ultimate secret to finding a secret brookie brook – key on one with water that stays below 68 degrees in droughts. This makes a stream thermometer a crucial investment for folks interested in brook fishing.
The brook has no official name on a topo map and eventually flows into another brook and then a small pond without crossing or coming near a single road, surprisingly remote by central-Maine standards. Naturally, it has provided me with super brookie fishing – well – for much of my life.
I seldom catch an 11-inch brook trout in this brook, but 6- to 10-inch specimens come often enough, and once two decades ago, a 12-incher there hit my large Picket Pin in early season. What a brute from thigh-deep water.
If you read this column often, you know that in April and very early May, small brooks draw me almost exclusively for native brookies. Then, when rivers and larger streams with much bigger trout start producing dynamite action around May 7 to 10, I quit these tiny rivulets.
Each August and September, I promise myself to hit brooks again but seldom do. This past Sept. 8, though, the day after most non-residents head home and give us the state back until leaf-peeping season, I celebrated by going brook fishing – a grand choice.
The brook flowed neither too high nor too low, but rather, just perfectly. Every pool with shadows or enough depth to hide the bottom from probing predator eyes held hungry brookies.
As always, I could depend on brookies filling this lovely, woodland brook – life in the fast lane Maine style.
After admiring the colorful, 11-inch brookie with its fluorescent-orange flanks, three-dimensional red spots, vivid cerulean aureoles and ultra-distinct vermiculations, I released it. The trout shot away toward the undercut bank, where it would lie – hopefully – until my next visit.
The day continued with smaller brookies whacking the nymph. What late-season fun on a cool day completely free of pesky insects.
Maine's storied fall rivers and streams – say the Kennebago, Rapid, Magalloway, Moose, East Outlet of Kennebec, Roach and West Branch of the Penobscot rivers or Grand Lake and Caucomgomoc streams – have mobs this month, but small September brooks seldom attract a single angler. When brook waters are flowing well, anglers can expect fast action, and it would be shocking to run into another angler.
The best way for newcomers to find brookie-rich honey holes begins with fisheries biologists from the Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife.
Contact the regional fisheries office in your area and ask about potential brooks. These guys have electro-fished dozens, many of them more than once, and know the size and population densities of brook trout that inhabit most brooks.
Your quest for info can begin with a call to 207-287-8000 and asking the IF&W public-relations representative for regional phone numbers to the area interesting you.
We have 10 more days to fish brooks this season. For folks who have never done this sport, it might start a new passion.
Ken Allen of Belgrade Lakes is a writer, editor and photographer.