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FISHING DESTINATIONS: NEW ZEALAND: Screaming reels in kiwi land
TURANGI, New Zealand - Tyler Shoberg, a Herald copy editor, recently spent two weeks traveling through New Zealand with his girlfriend, Erin Dixon, who was studying abroad. The following story is from a daylong guided fishing trip the pair took June 23 in New Zealand. Shoberg's parents gave him the trip as a present for graduating from UND. Twenty-five minutes: That's how long it took to land the first fish of the day. I'd never fought anything that long back home in Minnesota. My parents, my sister, the school bully; all 15 minutes, tops. But when the tired-out rainbow trout finally succumbed to the bend of the rod and the strain in my back, Will Kemp, my guide, tapped the face of his watch. "Twenty-five minutes," he grinned. "She's quite the pig, eh?" With the fish safely nestled inside a landing net, Kemp popped a clip on the handle and used the built-in scale to calculate the weight.
Brook trout were the first salmonid species in Colorado
The brook trout, Salvelinus fontinalis, is an engaging fish. Nearly every trout fisher that I know, young and old alike, has fond memories concerning the beautiful little trout that inhabit most of Colorado's mountain streams. Many anglers remember a brook trout as being first at something or other; their first trout caught from a stream, first trout on a fly rod, first trout on a spinning rod, first trout on something other than a worm, first trout cooked over a campfire beside a moonlit mountain lake, first trout (fill in the blank).
Eastern brook trout are good at being first. Pioneers of a sort, they were the first salmonid species introduced into Colorado, beating the California rainbows by ten years. In late 1872, Denver Alderman, James M. Broadwell, obtained 10,000 fertile brook trout eggs from a fish culturist in Boscobel, Wisconsin and hatched them at his facility located on the South Platte River ten miles north of Denver.
A Sound Sleep and a Single Fish
BLOOMINGTON, Md. I like a good sleep as much as the next man, but is even the soundest snooze worth a three-hour drive, particularly with gasoline at $3 a gallon? "I thought we were supposed to be catching big trout," I groused to Jay Sheppard last week after eight hours flogging the storied waters of the Savage River and North Branch of the Potomac here in the highlands of Western Maryland. "Where's all the fish?" .
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