It starts somewhere towards the end of August. That first night where the heat of summer relents, breaks even and gives way. Leaves spill their color, trading viridescence for a final vibrant burst of orange, red and yellow. On the river, they collect in back eddies and swirl in currents, occasionally getting mistaken for the flash of feeding trout. Some days, the water resembles a thick stew it’s so packed with color.
While the leaves transform and fall, a similar transformation occurs below the surface.
Trout of all size and shape begin to transform into spectacles of nature. From buttery, golden browns to brookies with bellies so red they rival the best sunsets, fall trout challenge our notions of what is possible in nature. As any devout trout angle knows, the leaves are nice and all, but the real definition of autumn lies in the fall colors of those beneath the surface.