Trout Fishing

We had planned a day trip in search of the elusive trout for several days.  Today started with a nice sunny morning, so Ron and I executed our plan.  I think we made the right choice.  After an uneventful ride of about 55 miles filled with wise dispensations of otherwise unobtainable knowledge we arrived in the wee hamlet of Santa Clara in Franklin County, New York.  No a hamlet is not part of a pig, it is a small group of homes near each other.  This first photo is of the tranquil St. Regis River as it meanders northwest toward the village of St. Regis Falls.  It is taken from the bridge where route 458 crosses the river.  Notice the leaves beginning to change into their fall wardrobes.

Although our stated quest was for trout of one sort or another Ron’s first visitor to the succulent worm he attached to his hook, in turn tied to his rod and reel with some monofilament, was a bullhead, of all things.  It’s a cousin to a catfish, or at least looks as if it is.  It was maybe a foot long, but we didn’t want to take time to measure it before tossing it back in the water.  It shall live on for a while until possibly it makes the same mistake again.

We moved on by driving into the campgrounds located within the Village of St. Regis Falls.  Here there is a lovely campground alongside the St. Regis River some five miles from where we started in Santa Clara.  On his first cast off this scenic little wooden bridge to nowhere, used as a fishing pier by most visitors, Ron caught a monster after a vicious fight.  I think his practiced eye identified it as an Orca, which I believe I heard once was short for “little shrimpy fish,” but I’m not sure.  Maybe I am confused.

A few casts later Ron actually caught one of the trout things for which we were searching.  It was about 8” – 9” in length, but again we took no extra time out of the water for measuring this rainbow before tossing it back to grow some more.  Aren’t they pretty though?

You may have noticed that Ron has caught all of the fish up until now, but was I skunked for the day?  Not by a darn sight.  This chub jumped out of the water some ten feet to attack me while I stood on the bridge.  As I stuck out my hand to ward it off, it bit my thumb and held on.

After catching all of the fish presently in the river at that time we moved on.  We drove through the village of Dickinson Center on our way for a rendezvous with the Deer River.  On the lawn of a home within the village Ron spotted a flock of turkeys.  This seemed unusual enough to warrant a photo.  There are approximately 30 birds in this flock consisting of about four hens and their poults.

Soon we were on the banks of the Deer River.  This view is looking up stream past an island with the largest rock on it.  Water is cascading down over a small water fall on the right, and also entering from the left between the rocks.  Today it was not to be, but Ron and I have caught several nice trout at this exact spot in the past.  I think the total count today was four rainbows for Ron as well as several chubs and the bullhead.  The only thing I caught was the one that caught me.

A few miles from the last place we fished on the Deer River I spotted these white furry things on a farm.  There appeared to be about 200 of them, more or less.  There are not a lot of sheep in these parts so I snapped a quick shot of them.  From there it was fifty miles of bumpy road back home with nothing to show for our day except these photos for memories.