The text came in late Saturday.
“They put a bunch of trout in behind the WalMart.”
Now, I can appreciate how this string of words may trigger a good number of fly fishers reading this article. And I could certainly up my word count by marking each and every syntactical landmine. But for those with a more sensitive conscience: Just pass on this one and click on any of the hundreds of posts in which I wax poetically about native brook trout. Because today I’m talking about fishing for stocked trout behind a WalMart.
So while the lede might have some of you sputtering and frantically searching for the comments section, some may be excited at this prospective topic. It is awfully convenient if you want to get some shopping done and land a few fish, after all. But the true intended audience is that middle group who may be on the fence. You feel the tension. You are a little torn. This, then, is for you.
Because I want to talk about three reasons why I had a good afternoon catching a bunch of trout that they just put in behind the WalMart.
I was able to practice.
Earlier in the week I went to a much more prestigious river to chase a higher caliber of fish. The rod and line I chose to use were new to me. I hadn’t cast them together on water until that day. It wasn’t pretty. In fact, there wasn’t even enough redemptive value in the ordeal to write about it in the context of a cautionary tale.
But I took the same rig out behind the WalMart. And I was able to practice casting up close. And I was able to practice casting at distance. As the freshly introduced fish were willing to entertain my flies, I was also able to practice setting the hook. The new equipment did take a little figuring out, but it did come together after a while.
And it might just be me, but I feel like I performed a little better – and more loosely casting there at 70 feet than I would on the hoity-toity river.
I was reminded of the great native fish near me.
Sure, there were the browns with the nubby fins. But there were bright, aggressive yellow perch to be had as well. I also caught some decent fallfish.
If you were stifling a gag from the beginning of this article, there is a good chance you’ve lost it at this point.
But I maintain (as I have before) that you can’t be for native trout and against native “trash fish.” I’m also on the record that I’d rather catch a ten-inch fallfish than an ten-inch stocked rainbow. “Well all I catch is 20-inch fish, bro!” Congrats. I don’t know why you’re on the internet reading about fly fishing if you’re the expert.
Me? I’m happy to drive five minutes, cast into a swampy creek, and have no idea what I’m going to find when I reel in my line.
I was catching trout.
This is perhaps the most important point. I have lived on the banks of spring creeks containing big, wild browns. I have had mountain streams in close proximity where I can find native brookies. But at this point in my life, I’ve been providentially placed within a short drive of a river that flows behind a WalMart.
I’m not going to change that for the sake of fish. I’m not going to neglect that river I can fish for “better rivers” that I can’t fish for a few hours on a Sunday. I’ve been fly fishing enough and enough places that such existential angling crises don’t even flash across my mind.
Plus, these little stocked brown trout weren’t that bad. Yes, their fins were a little gimpy. But they were pretty fish. And they fought with ferocity. Also, they were rising to little mayflies with vigor. I didn’t need a strike indicator for a single one of them! It could have all been context, but I thought they were quite fine for a bunch of trout that had just been put in behind the WalMart.