Hammonasset Trout 1 - Little Guy 0

My future netsman

This little fella has been going more and more places lately, so I figured why not fishing? I thought I had this all figured out. We'd go to the Hammonasset River, a mere 20 minutes from home. Worst case scenario, his great aunt is only a mile away, tops. I put on my hippers before leaving home. My rod was already rigged up with a Golden Olive Dabbler and a small Silver Invicta. I figured today was the day to introduce the little guy to his first trout and I figured I had about ninety minutes of fishing time to get the job done. 

I should have taken the dirty diaper upon arrival as a sort of foreshadowing. Fortunately, the back of my Mazda Tribute is the perfect baby changing station. We took care of the stinky mess and were on our way. It was a short walk downhill to a pool where, according to my friend Pete, the trout "rise with blatant impunity."

We made it to the pool and found some small risers. Unfortunately, they were chubs. After bringing two to hand, I spotted a decent sized trout rising in the tail of the pool. Because of the nature of the pool, I had to work downstream to cover the bulk of the deeper water. I hadn't thrown close to enough line to cover that far down the pool before an unexpected thirty minute meltdown began. 

I knew we were done for the day. He wanted out of the car seat and wanted to be held. I tried to calm him down so I could get that one elusive trout and we could be on our way, but it wasn't meant to be. It was time to head home. 

I wish I could give some kind of helpful fishing report to the locals, but we weren't there long enough to see much happen. Plus, my attention was mainly focused on the bank, not the water. On the drive home, I told his mom about my shortest fishing trip ever. She replied, "30 minutes? That's a pretty good amount of time outdoors for him!" Was our trip a success? I didn't think so, but maybe I was wrong. 

I'll give him another month or two before we attempt this again. I know of a stream filled with wild trout and decent enough stroller access. In the meantime, I'll have to phone the Duke of Roxburghe and tell him to postpone our trip to the Alta River until further notice...