I’m still waiting for the water to warm up and for the muskies to get more active but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been fishing. I’ve been on a trout fishing binge, that is when it’s not raining and the water is not too high and fast moving.

I may have mentioned this before, but trout fishing skipped a branch in my family tree. My dad wouldn’t know a Brown trout from a Brookie but my Grandpa Wally, why, he could turn a Mepps spinner into trout supper with a single cast. Seems like every time we stopped at his house he had trout soaking in a pail waiting to be cleaned for supper. When he passed on, my brother Garret and I bought his entire tackle collection at auction and then split everything right down the middle. On occasion I even use some of those lures but never for too long because of fear: the more sentimental a lure, the greater the chances of losing it.

Seeing Grandpa Wally’s trout was as close as I came to the sport when I was younger. Of course, I eventually found my way to a trout stream and eventually I figured out how to catch a few fish, but I still consider myself more novice than experienced. I have far more know-how when it comes to muskies or walleyes. When I can head to the Rush River and bring home a couple of nice Browns for supper, it’s a great day.

On a recent trip down to the Rush I had the benefit of some rain-stained water which made for advantage Dave. If the trout can’t see you, you can’t spook them. Not that I can’t catch fish in clear water, I just tend to do better with a little cover in my favor. I’m sure Grandpa Wally had a saying about stained water but like his honey hole, he kept that to himself.  

It didn’t take long for the first Brown trout to hit my small spinner and just like that I was on the board. It always feels good landing that first fish so early as it gives me hope that it’s gonna be a great outing. When I am able to catch a second trout right after that, I feel really good about what’s in store for the night.

I messed around and caught a couple more small trout but was almost startled by the strength of the next fish that hit my lure. It was almost as if it was bigger than all of the fish that I had previously caught, combined. I even loosened my drag respecting the fish’s size and strength. After a respectable battle, the fish was eventually eased to shore and I had my first dinner guest lined up.

I moved up the stream and managed to catch a couple more trout, but they weren’t worthy of an invite to dinner. They were released with the hope that our paths would cross again but not until next year, or maybe even the year after. It was still fun landing them and then watching them scoot back to the deeper water.  

I had had a pretty decent night going and thought that if I could take one more fish home with me it would make for a pretty decent spread. Well, it took a few more casts but another trout the size of the first keeper whacked at my spinner and after another good fight I had my dinner guests.

It was a good time and place to end my outing.  I headed out of the Rush River Valley with some renewed confidence that when it comes to trout fishing, maybe I’m not giving myself enough credit. I also figured that I had a great way to test my theory. Next week I’ll tell you all about the rematch of Dave (with a fly rod) vs the Rush River.

Didn’t get enough Dave this week? Visit “Outdoor Trails and Tales with Dave Beck” on Facebook for photos and video of Dave’s adventures. You can share your own photos and video with him there as well, or by emailing him at dave@piercecountyjournal.news Also, check out OTT content on Instagram @thepiercecountyjournal