It’s All About Time On the Water

by | Feb 2, 2015 | 11 comments

** This story was published in February of 2015. A couple of days ago, I spent time in the same area, adding to my history with this favorite place. Now with my new Australian Shepherd, River, along for the trip, I was reminded of this story. So I’ve revised updated and shared it here again.**

There was a large clearing on the far side of the cold river, underneath a thick stand of spruce trees. It’s a steep but quick hike to get on top of the ledge, but the canopy of evergreens has often provided me considerable shade in the summer. So I knew that on this winter day that the heavy snow I was walking through would be only half as deep on the other side. I tightened the balaclava around my face, crossed the river, scaled the sharp incline (made easier by the snow on the rocks forming a virtual staircase), and stepped up onto the shadowy plateau. It was as I expected.

The snow here was thinner and more powdery — because within the protection of spruce boughs, the shady plateau had avoided the short dousing of sleet earlier in the morning. The rounded, snowy outline of a fire ring reminded me of a chilly spring morning that I once spent here with my border collie, Dylan.

It has to be ten years ago now. And Dylan was in his prime — a perfect fishing companion. He loved this river completely, just as I do. I remember sitting near the meager ring of rocks, obviously unused for many season, and I contemplated building a fire. I decided against it, of course, because it would take away too much fishing time.

When I climbed out of the water and up the bank, Dylan greeted me and hung beside me for a minute or so, then he took off through the woods at a full gallop, head up, nose in the wind and a smile on his face. Next, he set a perimeter. No doubt this habit was instinctual to his shepherd genes, and after running fifty yards to the south, Dylan ran past me on his way north. As I rested on the ground with the spacious, air-pocketed root system of spruce trees below me, I could hear and feel the drumming of his footsteps. Dylan was Troutbitten . . .


I paused at the fire pit with those thoughts, and then I moved on.  Today was about memories; about beauty, about the scent of cold winter air in the woods, and about a perfect peace found only in loneliness.

I wish I could share this feeling with people who raise an eyebrow when I tell them that I wade rivers in the winter, regardless of the weather conditions. It’s my favorite season for fishing because these experiences — these emotions — are only available when the sun’s arc is low, and fresh snow is falling on a white canvas.

I know there are some of you who enjoy this time of year just as much as I do. But there aren’t that many of us — I see the clean snow in the parking areas. And the nastier the weather gets, the fewer the boot tracks there are to be found.

I thought about this as the path on the plateau narrowed into a wide tunnel of younger spruce trees. It’s about knowledge — and that knowledge is only gained through experience.

I’ve fished enough of the winter now to have a few things figured out — not the actual fishing, mind you (because no one ever really figures out trout fishing), but the ability to be out all day in any conditions, to catch fish and not only enjoy myself, but to have some of my most memorable days of the year. I’m not talking about getting out of the truck and hopping over a guard rail to fish the water for an hour or two either. I like to hike in and explore — to go somewhere where I’ve never been, or to get way back into somewhere special once again.

There’s a set of knowledge gained from your own experiences on the water — from your own failures, mostly. Then there’s a searching and finding of solutions for those failures. And finally, you get back at it, waiting for the next set of failures and solutions.  It’s things like these:

— I wear size 11 boots in the winter, although my feet are really 9.5, because I can wear more socks. And yet, I still carry toe warmers in my vest for those freestone river days where the water is as cold as it gets and I’m working slow pools all day.

— On the coldest days I carry a small thermos of coffee. The first couple that I bought were too heavy. But finally, the third one fits perfectly above my belt, against the small of my back and inside my waders. It took a while to find that carrying spot.

— After trying everything through the years, I still use fingerless wool gloves, because they’re just better than anything else. They stay warm when wet, they are cheap and they wash well. I also carry a spare pair of gloves in my vest.

— The thick wrist bands that I wear over-top of my gloves also make a huge difference, and they serve to anchor a hand warmer heat pack to the inside of my wrist on the very coldest days.

— I carry an extra fleece pullover sealed in a gallon Ziploc bag, because just knowing it’s available keeps me warmer.

— I wear up to three hats.

— A windproof outer shell is a necessity.

— God bless the balaclava.

— After years of attempting to deal with frozen guides and fly line with Chap-Stick, Mucilin, Pam non-sick spray, and Stanley's Ice Off Paste, I finally discovered that using a Mono Rig pretty much takes care of the ice-up issues. But the Stanley's is still best when the temps dip into the low twenties.

— And never, ever dunk your reel in the water.

READ: Troutbitten | Fly Fishing in the Winter — Your Hands

READ: Troutbitten | Fly Fishing in the Winter — The System

It’s these small things, and so many others, that keep me (fairly) comfortable and in the game all winter long. It’s knowledge collected over seasons past. Nothing special. Just a result of time on the water.

The spruce tunnel curved a bit. It widened, flattened and led me down to the water’s edge. Effectively, I cut off a quarter-mile of walking through (deeper) snow by crossing the river and taking the inside of a significant bend in the creek. It’s been a couple of years since I took that path, but today I just followed the direction that my memories took me. I fished a stretch of water and then walked to the next piece that I had my thoughts set upon, Then I did it again and again. That’s the reward of knowing a river deeply.

It’s all about time on the water.

Fish hard, friends.


** Donate ** If you enjoy this article, please consider a donation. Your support is what keeps this Troutbitten project funded. Scroll below to find the Donate Button. And thank you.


Enjoy the day.
Domenick Swentosky


Share This Article . . .

Since 2014 and 600 articles deep
Troutbitten is a free resource for all anglers
Your support is greatly appreciated

– Explore These Post Tags –

Domenick Swentosky

Central Pennsylvania

Hi. I’m a father of two young boys, a husband, author, fly fishing guide and a musician. I fish for wild brown trout in the cool limestone waters of Central Pennsylvania year round. This is my home, and I love it. Friends. Family. And the river.

More from this Category

Never Blame the Fish

Never Blame the Fish

When everything you expect to work produces nothing, don’t blame the fish. Think more. Try harder.

When your good drifts still leave the net empty, then don’t settle for good. Make things perfect. Never blame the fish . . .

Super Fly — The Story of a Squirmy Wormy

Super Fly — The Story of a Squirmy Wormy

Occasionally (rarely) something comes along that makes trout go a little crazy. Why? Who the hell knows. But it trips some trigger in trout that makes them move further and eat more than they do for just about anything else. In my life there’ve been only four of these super flies.

In dark bars and seedy internet gatherings, I keep my ear to the ground for rumors of the next super fly. Because those who find one can’t keep a secret for long. And I want to be in on the next fly from the ground up again. I want long months of virgin trout that lust for something original yet familiar, the right mix of bold but non-threatening, curiously edible and irresistible. I want to fish another super fly . . .

Calm and Chaos

Calm and Chaos

Some of it winds and bends in line with the tall grasses in the breeze. This is meandering meadow water that glistens and swoons against the low angles of a fading sun. Trout thrive here, protected in the deep cool water, among shade lines that are artfully formed by long weeds that wag and flutter in the current. You could swear the tips of those weeds are trout tails — until they’re not. Maybe some are.

The calm waters of a river are like a church sanctuary. They encourage a measure of reverent respect, even if you don’t much believe what’s in there . . .

Canyon Caddis

Canyon Caddis

Some of these caddis were swamped by the current or damaged by their acrobatic and reckless tumbling. And the broken ones didn’t last long. Large slurps from underneath signaled the feeding of the biggest trout, keying in on the opportunity for an easy meal.

Smith and I shared a smile at the sheer number of good chances. Trout often ignore caddis, because the emerging insects spend very little time on the surface, and trout don’t like to chase too often. But with a blanket hatch like this, the odds stack up, and trout were taking notice . . .

Natural vs Attractive Presentations

Natural vs Attractive Presentations

. . . Let’s call it natural if the fly is doing something the trout are used to seeing. If the fly looks like what a trout watches day after day and hour after hour — if the fly is doing something expected — that’s a natural presentation.

By contrast, let’s call it attractive if the fly deviates from the expected norm. Like any other animal in the wild, trout know their environment. They understand what the aquatic insects and the baitfish around them are capable of. They know the habits of mayflies and midges, of caddis, stones, black nosed dace and sculpins. And just as an eagle realizes that a woodland rabbit will never fly, a trout knows that a sculpin cannot hover near the top of the water column with its nose into heavy current . . .

Cicadas, Sawyer and the Clinic

Cicadas, Sawyer and the Clinic

Just as the Cicada settled again, with its deer hair wing coming to rest and its rubber legs still quivering, the pool boss came to finish what he started. His big head engulfed the fly, and my patience finally released into a sharp hookset on 3X. The stout hook buried itself against the weight of a big trout . . .

What do you think?

Be part of the Troutbitten community of ideas.
Be helpful. And be nice.


  1. Domenick

    Enjoying the blog


  2. Loved the story. Winter is my favorite time to be out on the river for all the reasons you mentioned. I would like to recommend one other item to help keep you warm, Hot seat warmers. A 12×12 non residue peel and stick adhesive that I stick to the inside of my outer layer jacket. It really works in keeping me warm. No residue left on jacket. These warmers are essential for my cold days on the river.

  3. I don’t have a dog but thankfully, Dom, I have you. For a long time, fishing was just about the fish. Thanks for helping me, and a whole of others, to open our eyes and take it all in, particularly in the winter.

  4. The most important lesson I learned about winter fishing came on a reasonably warm day on the South Platte, after a blustery cold snap of sub-freezing temps. I was wading deep in a pool and casting downstream when I happened to turn around at the sound of a crow and I saw it – a huge ice floe broken off and headed right at me. I scrambled up out of the pool at the very last minute. I have ever since been conscious of what might be coming at me from upstream.

  5. Thank you for the inspiration, after reading this I will try to get out more during winter season.
    Most streams are closed until April 1st here but sea trout fishing on the coast is allowed from January 1st so that’s usually what gets me through the last couple of months before the early hatches start.
    This year though I’ll make some time to visit the few streams that open up earlier.
    Love your writing and in depth knowledge, thanks for sharing and keep up the good work.

  6. Being retired and healthy weather permitting am on water 5,6 days a week,and lucky enough to live 15 minutes away,and while know lots of other stretches really like and know this mile long part. Only problem is definitely get way too attached to fish,and harbor evil thoughts when see meat hunters kill a trout. Great article!! Like always!

  7. We have 5-6 inches of fresh snow and it’s still coming down. But with Spring Creek less than 5 minutes away, I hear it calling. So off I go, anticipating few if any tracks in the fresh snow. Blessed to be able to go fishing, admire all the beauty He has provided, and enjoy the solitude except for the occasional squirrel or deer.


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Recent Articles

Recent Posts

Domenick Swentosky

Central Pennsylvania

Hi. I’m a father of two young boys, a husband, author, fly fishing guide and a musician. I fish for wild brown trout in the cool limestone waters of Central Pennsylvania year round. This is my home, and I love it. Friends. Family. And the river.

Pin It on Pinterest