How can I begin to explain why brook trout lurk in shallow pools, under banks, between logs and in any crevice so long as the water is clear, cool and oxygenated? It doesn’t seem possible that brookies inhabit these places, dart from them to forage a meal and return in a blink of an eye, flash or splash.
Brookies are the Brittanies of the aquatic world. They are tenacious, beautiful, graceful and a delight to hold in your hand. They seem to have the stamina of much larger species and yet, maintain their own characteristics equal to nothing ….except maybe grayling.
Grayling of course, are the true natives; natives we’ve managed to remove from Michigan’s ecosystem. Our loss; more’s the pity.
Brookies exist in glacial lakes in the arctic, in mountain streams, lakes and in anyplace big enough for a mayfly to sit, a caddis to flutter on, a stonefly to crawl out of and a hopper to fall onto from the grassy knolls of a meadow bordering a stream.
Out of all the trout I’ve fished for and will continue to fish for, brookies are and remain my favorite and most prized query.
There is a place on the Au Sable not far from Cummins Flat where brookies haunt riffles in larger size than most. They taunt piscators, reward those with patience while frustrating those who take them for granted and their ability to choose between patterns.
Brook trout are the mustang of the trout world in Michigan: Browns are the bruisers, rainbows, the thoroughbreds, but brookies, they are the all American fish in my eyes.
TD