A winter afternoon, and fishing conditions are far from ideal: a cloudless sky and brilliant sun, its shard-like refractions ricocheting off the gin-clear creek and somehow darting behind my sunglasses. The temperature has climbed to nearly 40, but the sunshine and absence of wind makes it feel warmer. A shade too warm for the wool vest beneath my jacket.
The riffle in which I’m standing narrows to a gurgling chute that flattens into a pool under the county road bridge. A couple of trout hover near the tail out. They gently wave in the current but display no interest in the fly I’m offering. I change the menu, lengthen the tippet with a piece of an almost thread-like 6x fluorocarbon, tipping it with a tiny black midge with a touch of silver. I take advantage of the current to make a drift cast. Nothing.
A four-door F-150 rumbles onto the bridge and stops. The driver’s window descends, revealing a face of indeterminable age that’s mostly concealed by a salt-and-pepper beard, wraparound sunglasses and a cap.
“Doin’ any good?” It’s the universal fishing greeting.
I answer with a back-and-forth head shake, although this isn’t exactly true. At the upstream bridge access, I’d hooked two trout and landed one, a chunky rainbow that had some color. I didn’t get a look at the second fish.
“This sun makes it tough,” the driver offered. “You could use some clouds.” I nodded in agreement.
“Yeah. I could.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
The truck inched forward then stopped.
“I fish here some in the summer when I can,” the bearded man added, gesturing with a head tilt toward the downstream side of the bridge. “That’s a pretty good spot. It’s where they stock.”
I answer with a nod. “Thanks.”
This time, the truck rolled off the bridge, up the hill and out of sight.
. . .
Trout are not native to Kentucky (in pre- and early settlement days, a few Appalachian streams might have harbored native brook trout, but evidence is scant, and opinions vary). But thanks to an aggressive trout stock program by the Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources, the prized sport fish is now found across much of the Commonwealth.
The state game agency regularly stocks about 390 miles of streams, creeks and rivers with trout. Most are rainbows, but some browns and a few brook trout go into the mix. A handful of streams, including the one I’m fishing (Trammel Fork in Allen County), are managed under special catch-and-release, artificial-lure-only winter regulations. Details with stream locations can be found at fw.ky.gov/Fish/Pages/Seasonal-Catch-and-Release-Trout-Streams.aspx.
The Cumberland River below Wolf Creek Dam is the state’s prize trout fishery. The cold-water release from the dam provides the needed habitat, and the federal trout hatchery at Wolf Creek provides the fish. As a trout fishery, the 76.7-mile-long Cumberland flowing from the dam to the Tennessee state line rivals any cold-water tailrace in the country.
Surprisingly, Kentucky’s trout fishing opportunities expand during the winter.
Fishery officials stock trout during the winter in waters that, due to summertime water temperatures, will not support the cold-water species year-round. These include 44 of the 45 popular Fishing in Neighborhoods (FINs) lakes, which are scattered across 27 counties from Hickman to Harlan. Seven FINs lakes are in Jefferson County. Two are in Fayette. They are stocked four times during the winter season. Twenty-six FINs lakes got trout in October, and 18 were stocked in November. Stocking resumes in February and March. Check page 3 of the current fishing guide for license requirement and bag limits.
The FINs winter trout stocking schedule can be found at fw.ky.gov/Fish/Pages/Planned-Monthly-Trout-Stocking-Schedule.aspx. All 44 FINs lakes are scheduled for a February trout stocking. There is one near you.
. . .
I had moved to the downstream side of the bridge and waded onto a narrow gravel tongue. The position required an upstream cast and downstream drift. I hooked fish on back-to-back casts but lost both, the second snapping the thread-thin tippet.
I didn’t notice the truck until the driver, still clad in the cap and sunglasses, spoke. I don’t know how long I’d been observed.
“That’s a good spot,” he said, then the Ford rolled off the bridge and toward the direction of town. I was unsure whether I’d been told something or asked something.
Readers may contact Gary Garth at editor@kentuckymonthly.com