I’ve always been intrigued with the idea that there are fish nearby. Probably like most anglers, or even avid nature lovers, my fascination begins with the reassuring knowledge that there exists an ecosystem that is functioning properly. And that I live close to it.

I even went so far as to try to make that happen for myself in a very significant way.

Currently I live in Virginia. Prior to coming back here, I had a home in New Hampshire. After the requisite months of looking at houses I was getting a bit jaded with the same old pro and con lists. An old furnace, but a great lot; a swampy backyard, but a clean and spacious living area. And then I stopped by the property that I would eventually buy. There was a stream in the backyard.

After touring the home and doing my best attempt at a thorough inspection, I went outside to look at the property. The creek was a moderately-paced, narrow little ditch that was much deeper than I expected from seeing photographs. And I immediately saw fish. I know now that most were dace and fallfish. That was all I caught in my years of tooling around the backyard. But on that day I could have sworn I saw trout.

It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. The little stream flowed between two larger ponds that were connected to a larger river system. This river received at least two stockings from the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department. Trout could move around easily enough. Or, as I liked to fantasize, it was a native brook trout that somehow avoided the multitude of ecological calamities that the watershed had suffered over the past few hundred years.

I never caught a trout in my backyard stream, but there was also no way to disprove the existence of salmonids in the creek either. And, as some kind of consolation, I did find a small spring within a fifteen-mile radius which had a flow that held a native population of brook trout.

Knowing that there are fish nearby is indeed intriguing, but knowing that there are trout within close proximity is even more captivating. Their low tolerances compounded by the inevitable angling pressure makes them something special.

Everywhere I’ve lived I have spent hours poring over maps and guidebooks, hiking into likely spots, and having sly conversations with locals. On one level my desire has been to catch fish. But ultimately, I think that I’m seeking to just catch a fish here. Particularly when it comes to trout, most places I’ve lived have been developed at the expense of the natural habitats and the native trout long since extirpated. There is solace in catching a fish that has survived, held on, or otherwise “beat the system.”

I’m aware that it is very unlikely that I’ll discover some native population of brook trout that has long been forgotten or was somehow unknown until this point. It would even be improbable to stumble upon some stocked trout that are relatively inconspicuous. But there is always a chance.

And there is only one way to find out.

***

Read the rest of the series here.