I usually write about how excited I am about the new seasons approaching and this time of year it’s duck season and deer gun season, to name a few. But as I sat down at my computer recently, I thought about one season that is quietly ending without much noise or fanfare: trout season. It seems like the closing date keeps changing but for sure, the season is closing. The next time we can chase trout will be Jan. 1, 2025, when the catch and release season opens.  

I did a fair amount of trout fishing early this spring but as the lakes heated up and became more active, that’s where I gravitated. But I couldn’t let the trout season slip by without one last fling with the spinning rod and Panther Martins so I headed down to the stream and when I get there, I follow a routine that has developed over the years but I have no idea when it started. Because it doesn’t take long before the fish know I’m there I always stop short of the first trout hole to wait and watch. I want to make sure that there are trout waiting for me. If I know the trout are there it forces me to approach cautiously hoping to keep the advantage on my side. On this day, after several minutes of waiting, I saw three trout nab some sort of mid-morning snack and I smiled.

I eased alongside the stream following the shade of a cottonwood tree and threw a cast upriver towards where the trout had risen to the surface.  Instantly a wake appeared behind my lure and just a second later the Brook trout hammered my lure. Two seconds later that trout was off and my line went slack. Before I left that first spot, I kept a 14-inch Brookie and threw back four more. I was off to a great start.

I backed out of that area and then eased up to the next ambush spot. The results were almost the same. I caught a few, lost a couple and kept one. At least I had lunch taken care of if nothing else happened during the rest of the morning.  

Spot number three was where the real action happened, but it wasn’t from the trout. I was slipping through the head high grass and weeds and stopped when I caught glimpses of a stream. The trout eased slowly back and forth in the center of the small hole, certainly unaware that I was there. A couple of them were brown trout and much larger than the Brookies that I had stashed on a stringer. All I needed to top off my trout bag was one of those Browns to make the salad and chips portions of my lunch smaller.

I slowly eased the last few feet closer to the side of the stream. My presence was still undetected. The trout were just lying in the water doing trout things. If I had a Draft Kings gambling account, I would have bet all my trout equipment that a big Brown trout was going to be the guest of honor at my lunch.

Then it happened. There was an explosion almost under my boots. Water splashed in all directions and the weeds came to life with two large black figures. Before I could decide what sort of monster was about to attack me, two beavers dove into the water and I fell over backwards causing the trout to scatter. My sure thing, stone cold lead pipe lock, was gone a split second after the trout bolted. 

After the murky water settled down, I moved to the next spot upstream. Again, I took my time and I could see trout finning only a half cast upstream from me. I started to preheat the oven in my head as baked trout were about to become reality but before the pilot light came on, those two black trout busters appeared out of nowhere again. The beavers spooked the trout and that was it.  

Although I’m bummed that trout fishing is closing, I am suddenly really excited about another season opening on Nov. 2: Beaver trapping.

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