Friday, January 26, 2018

Native and Wild Trout of New Jersey


New Jersey’s Little Secret: Wild and Native Trout


Wild Rainbow Passaic River Headwaters


Native and Wild Trout of New Jersey
          How I learned about native brook trout in Dunnfield Creek is permanently obscured, but memories of catching them in the late 1970’s remain clear and colorful like the aquamarine spring-fed water. I made pilgrimages during the 1980’s with a brother of mine and also a girlfriend, catching both native brook trout and wild browns. In 1993, I hiked with my wife-to-be, Patricia, on a 90-degree July afternoon. Into the deepest pool I dove, clad in shorts. That’s when I learned just how cold the Creek stays.

          Charts and statistics online indicate approximately 50% of original native brook trout range remains in New Jersey, some of the lines of genetic inheritance going back about 12,000 years to the Wisconsin Glacier recession. From Somerset County northward, the New Jersey State Fish, designated by former Governor James Florio, is a multi-colored, fleshed-out jewel not all that rare. I’ve found them in a Somerset County rill, a shallow run not listed among 175 New Jersey Wild Trout Streams, which the Division of Fish & Wildlife designates. My son and I hiked the one-mile length, finding a single hole five feet deep with half a dozen brookies as large as seven inches finning at bottom. To the south of the state, native brook trout inhabited parts of the Pinelands in spring-fed streams and reportedly still do today in Big Timber Creek, tolerating high acidity.  

          Not every high quality stream in the state has brookies. Passaic River headwaters in Sherman Hoffman Wildlife Sanctuary’s vicinity flourish with wild rainbows and browns, absent of any brook trout. Rockaway Creek has wild browns, but no rainbows. Flanders Brook has all three species. Countless other examples have their unique characteristics. On the whole, wild brown trout are most resilient, native brookies not quite as common a survivor of our state’s environmental pressures, and wild rainbows are not rare but least to expect.

          All three species offer you an opportunity to count small fish as valuable, although on occasion, I’ve got news of a true wild brown—not a holdover—more than 20 inches long. I saw a photo of a five-pound brook trout caught somewhere in Warren County. At the time, I couldn't quite believe this fish was native, but what else could it have been, caught far back in remote forests? Some brook trout do holdover from stocking and work their way far upstream to reproduce. Not as natives, but as wild brook trout, their progeny live on, but it seems less likely to me that a giant brook trout from a remote forest stream was a  wild fish, instead of native.  

           Not every small, spring-fed stream is small its entire length. During seventh grade, a friend and I used to sneak into the woods during lunch recess, hiking to the headwaters of Little Shabakunk Creek in Mercer County where we planned on building a dam as beavers would make. I had the address and contract information of a trout hatchery. We were just kids. Before complications ensued over a brook trout order, my father asked to see the site with wood already piled on. I took him there. He said, “You would need an engineering degree and equipment to build this dam.”

          Beavers do it, though.

          You will find most wild and native trout in free-flowing creeks and river headwaters. Some exceptions include small impoundments of such streams. In the creeks and small rivers, trout don’t always hold in the deepest pools. I’ve caught nine and 10-inch brookies in Dunnfield Creek riffles by casting small shad darts on an ultra-light spinning rod, though in recent years, I stick to my two-weight fly rod. To catch a seven-incher of any of the three species is to gain an opportunity to witness a fine specimen. Nine-inch fish prove less common, and yet among brown trout, 14 to 17-inch fish are not drastically rare in streams small where you might not expect them. They live out their years by very wary behavior.

          Rules posted online by NJ Division of Fish and Wildlife govern designated wild trout streams, limiting anglers to use of artificial lures. Ultra-light spinning is a perfectly thrilling way to go. Trout Magnets and tiny jigs of any variety work best. I never bothered with spinners, because these clear water habitats make the metal seem too flashy for my taste. Besides, treble hooks are a nasty way to treat the trout, so if you do use lures with trebles, it’s a good idea to crimp the barbs to ensure clean release. Use no more than two-pound test low diameter line and you have all the casting range you need.

          Plenty gets written on small stickbaits for wild browns, especially around spawning time in the fall. I own tiny one-inch Rapalas I’ve caught plenty of stocked browns on in the past, and though they would work, longer lengths—yet small—tease out larger fish. Committed now to my six-foot fly rod, I never look back with any regret to the jigs I used, nor to the worms browns chewed in February before artificial lures became the rule on the Dunnfield.

          Bead-head nymphs like pheasant-tails, stonefly imitations, olives, and you-name-it in a variety of smaller hook measures have proven most versatile, although especially smaller streamers like Wooly Buggers and Muddler Minnows have had their moments. So do dry flies. If you’re new to our state’s little secret, consulting local hatch charts is a good idea, although all-around patterns like the Adams, Elk Hair Caddis, and Hendricksons are good to begin with especially for eager brook trout. The plethora of fly patterns available—and of stream entomology—will confuse you plenty, as it still does me. But if you read Art Scheck, former editor of Fly Fisherman magazine and former New Jersey resident, you might find him claim the only pattern he cares to fish for summer brook trout is the floating black ant.

            Light tippets of 6X and 7X may not hold a big trout but prove fitting for the little ones. A diopter can ease the uncertainty of finding the tie loop of a tiny fly. Just wear a vest and you’re good to go, unless the stream demands waders in the cooler and cold months.

          Summer trout fishing is easy compared to this time of year. If water temperatures remain as cold as they do in the Dunnfield Creek, trout will survive their struggle with you. As a rule, I don’t pursue trout in water above 68 degrees. Right now is a special time to seek out new streams and fish them. Cold weather inspires zest in the hardy, but if you feel averse to line freezing in the guides and numb fingers reaching for a hand warmer, a mild afternoon is a pleasant reminder of days to come. And yet if you find the deepest pools and fish them patiently while forgetting summer memories that distract you from the present, you may find persistent winter days are plenty to comfort the need to get out.                   

Wild Brown Peapack Brook Caught by Jorge Hildago

Native Brook Trout Dunnfield Creek


Headwaters North Branch Raritan


Capoolong Creek


Hakihokake Creek


Pohandusing Brook


Little Flatbrook

Rockaway Creek


Lamington River above CR 665


Van Campens Brook
Link to a piece on a stream hosting wild browns in its upper reaches: http://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2016/04/trout-entomology-sampling-lamington.html

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Ice Fishing Round Valley Pond

 
I drove to Advanced Power Equipment in Martinsville to pick up my auger with blades I assume were worked on. I paid some $23.00. We got to Round Valley Pond and found no difference whatsoever in the equipment's performance, compared to the recent trip to Lake Hopatcong.

I'm not pissed. Not only did we have an excellent time out there, I leaned on the auger to make it cut, burning at least $4.00 worth of Husquevarna 95-octane fuel, cutting three holes while not feeling pressured as I did under negative 20 wind chill last week. We were offered a hand drill from a guy who caught a 12-inch perch and an 18-inch pickerel, and I admit I felt of twinge of guilt, wondering about the longevity of his blades, but Matt got holes cut as I did not refuse. Maybe I'll buy a grinder. Maybe I'll go protest in Martinsville, but whatever, I will be examining the blades with Mike Maxwell, who understands things practical a lot better than I do. As Matt cut the third hole, I called over to him, "the existential concrete lived experience!" This I get. But it's not the same as making things work. My guess is that Heidegger knew all about it when he wrote about equipment. His existential philosophy would challenge the reader to indeed do his best at making things work.

I felt fully confidant about catching fish here, although I was a little concerned that the pond is getting pounded. I talked to Tom Tosco at The Sporting Life, and he told me to expect a couple of guys. I quipped that as long as they're not on my spots, that would be OK, and to tell you the truth, as I walked into view of the pond...that's where I was looking to, my spots, as if whoever was out there was just an object. As it turned out, in truth, the man out there was real nice guy, and I have to credit myself in spite of evil intent at first. Once I stepped out, I looked to the guy in the distance (and not on my spots), anticipated our meeting glances....and we raised hands of greeting. The bonds of relationship are so important. Things matter not at all without the concrete lived existential experience.

Before action flurried in a straight line near the straight-edged shoreline from about 12 to 20 feet deep, two young women approached Matt and me. Jena goes to Raritan Valley. I regret to say I didn't get the graduate's name, but she went to school in Pennsylvania. We hung out and talked for an hour or so before I noticed a high flag. Matt caught a 22-inch pickerel. Afterwards, I went to get the Husqevarna, fearing a stripped transmission, which I soon found out, to my great relief, was OK, while Jena caught a 20-inch pickerel. A gift from Matt.

A minute later, I caught my 18-incher. Later, as we began packing it in, Matt fought a pickerel of at least 22 inches, which broke off at the hole. Cut through 15-pound test fluorocarbon, which does happen on other rare occasions.