Looking for Seclusion
by Tony Vinciguerra
I had forgotten that it was Columbus Day weekend. I hadn’t expected to see so many cars in the “parking lot” at the head of the two-mile trail that leads up a steep hill to Seclusion Pond. Seclusion Pond. Its name is so enticing, especially for my dad and me, who love fly fishing from our float tubes in ponds that one can only reach by foot. Seclusion Pond is perfect for this.
The New Hampshire Fish and Game Department has been stocking Seclusion Pond with fingerling brook trout for years. How do they stock a pond that can only be reached by hiking up a steep two-mile hill? By helicopter. That’s one more factor that adds to the mystique of Seclusion Pond, making it that much more enticing. Unfortunately, it was also enticing to the owners of the five other cars parked in the tiny pull-off at the head of the trail.
It was sunny and 60 degrees, unusually warm for Columbus Day weekend, and that made it difficult to know how to dress for our uphill hike with float tubes on our back while wearing waders, particularly knowing that the water temperature would be in the 50s.
The hike proved hot and sweaty. Along the way, we saw a few hikers going up and down the trail. Each set of hikers offered words of encouragement. “You’re not that far away,” they’d say. “It’s just a little further.” I guess it was obvious that we were hot and tired.
As we approached the pond, my dad said, “After that hike, I’d just like to catch one brookie. That would make it all worth it.”
There were several hikers walking around the pond. Many of them had questions about our float tubes. Just as we were getting into the water, a woman of about 80 years and her granddaughter, who was about 20 years old, hiked up the trail. As my father and I kicked our way toward the center of the pond, the older woman yelled out, “Hello there.” We responded with a hello of our own. She responded with “Where are your legs?”
My dad patiently explained the logistics of a float tube.
“Well isn’t that clever,” she said.
My father started with a fly that he tied himself, a small, olive-colored nymph, and he was quickly rewarded with a pretty 9-inch female brook trout. “That’s it,” he said. “That made that sweaty hike all worthwhile.”
I tried a few different flies, including some of my old stand-bys for brook trout, a Mickey Finn and a Golden Demon. Oddly, neither produced even a tap.
Some trout were rising, but not enough to talk us into changing to a floating fly line. The rises were even more sporadic than the hatching flies we saw, which were tiny midges, not a fly one easily imitates.
Eventually, I became impatient and folded up my fly rod. I put together my ultra-light spinning rod with four-pound test line and put on a small, gold spoon. On my second cast, which was more of a flip just shy of some lily pads, a fish hit the lure hard. Given the location of my cast, I thought a smallmouth bass might be on the end of my line. Instead, it was a pretty, 12-inch female brookie. She fought more than her size.
After a few more casts, I tried another small, gold colored spoon, and I soon had an 11-inch male brook trout in full autumn “plumage” to show for my efforts. True to form, he fought even better than the female. Is there anything prettier than a male brook trout in the fall?
As is always the case when you’re catching fish, the time to head home came all too fast. It seemed that we had just learned how to fish for these fish, but we had to get ready for our hike back to the car.
I put on a third type of small, gold spoon for the short kick back to the spot where we would go ashore. On one of my final casts, which was also to the edge of a patch of lily pads, I lost another trout. It was the pond’s way of telling me to come back soon.
There are rumors of native, wild brook trout in Seclusion Pond, but I think it would take a biologist with a DNA testing kit to tell the difference, unless the state were clipping fins on all of the fingerlings before dropping them into the pond. It’s hard to imagine having the time and patience to clip all those tiny fins.
We didn’t find seclusion at Seclusion Pond, but we did find some great trout fishing. I’m used to catching 10- to 13-inch brook trout in large lakes soon after they are stocked. Given that all the fish we caught were stocked as fingerlings, they must have been at least two years old, possibly three. Thinking of this somehow made the whole experience that much more special.
Click here to see more photos that I took that day.
-- TV