Whenever overhearing two or more people from New Jersey talk about where they are from, invariably the conversation focuses on what Interstate Exit they live near to. Having traveled those major highways a few times myself, for years I assumed that those highways and their bordering, over populated hamlets were the sole focus of those poor people’s lives and I could not imagine such an existence. And I could not have been more wrong.
Pulling off the interstate and heading into the wilds of the
Garden State was a treat and a pleasant surprise. The rolling hills of vibrant fall colors; the
winding two lane blacktop and the small Rockwellesque communities that lined it
were beautiful. The many horse farms and
their adjoining mini-mansions were a far cry from the apartment complexes and
shopping malls along the interstate.
Maybe the tag “Garden State” is appropriate after all. Who knew?
Our next stop was at a little parking area on the banks of the Raritan’s South Branch. As Rich and I, along with his young daughter, got geared up I soaked in the beauty of the stream and gave thanks for the chance to enjoy such a special place.
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| Rich and his daughter, the "Master Angler in Training" |
Rich was determined to practice his nymphing techniques,
while I as usual attached a meaty streamer to my line. As Rich worked the waters along with his
daughter, we leap frogged from pool to pool with no success at all. Rich thought he felt a tug or two but I felt
and saw nothing.
After surveying the pool and
deciding that a position right up against the Split Rock would give me a good
shot at effectively covering the pool, I began casting. Just a few casts in, what superstition and
some experience has taught me to be a good omen ocurred. I was buzzed by a Kingfisher.
And sure enough, on the next cast I was onto a good
fish. While I was in a good position to
cover the pool with my casts, I was in the worst possible position to play and
land a large rainbow. The only way to
get him to the net was upstream through a pretty hefty current. After a few good runs and an incredible
acrobatic display the big guy - around 20 inches - finally came to me. YES!
My first New Jersey trout!
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| Me at the Split Rock Pool |
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| Rich working the Measuring Pool |
Then, being the ever generous host, Rich directed me to the
next hole, one called “The Measuring Pool” to try for a large brown that tended
to hang out there. I insisted that Rich
give it a try first as I relaxed and watched him methodically work a few seams
with the nymph. After a while we decided
that it was about time to head back to the parking lot and Rich turned the pool
over to me. Well, as Rich headed back
upstream, and after I’d made about about a dozen casts into the pool, what
should appear again but the Kingfisher!
Fish
on! This one was half again as big as
the first one and after a fight that I’ll never forget he was finally coming to
the net. Maybe I needed another over-flight
of the Kingfisher (more likely, more skill) because about two feet out from the
net the barbless hook separated from his jaw and the line went slack. Oh well, I was honored to do battle with such
a beautiful creature.
The meeting on Sunday with the chapter presidents went well
with the promise of bringing more New Jersey TU chapters into the Veterans
Service Partnership, but my mind wandered a bit. I couldn’t help but being
amazed by the largely unknown beauty of the state – and wondering if I could
train a Kingfisher to be my fishing companion.
