Laziness: A Lesson in the Personality Profile of a Trout

This piece is from the article series, The Human Side of Fish Behavior. People love to anthropomorphize fish: give them names, describe them as wise, or insist the trout is laughing at them.  Some of these behaviors are not flattering to the trout but deserve the exposure.

By T.J. Pence

I often hear of trout fishing conditions that are an angler’s paradise and sometimes I get to see them first hand.  There are many days that begin in the mountains with a stream that is teaming with activity.  Enthusiasm for anything on the surface rivals all you can eat pancakes at the nearest diner. 

Unfortunately we do not live in a utopia and invariably conditions will change to less than perfect.  A seasoned angler knows it will get extremely hot or cold. Hailstorms may turn the river into a Las Vegas water fountain.  Even worse, a flotilla of drunken tubers might invade. The conditions are never a discomfort until they affect the fishing.  That’s when the anxiety begins.   

Throughout the day you notice that trout are traveling ever shorter distances for their next meal.   Trout depend on this innate laziness for their survival and it is hardwired into every aspect of their decision process.  Thousands of years of evolution have taught them that sticking close to home is the best way to grow old and fat.   Any sign of trouble and you can bet your elusive trout will be taking a 20 minute time out – If you’re lucky.  

In my own nightmares, their laziness take on a certain urgency, as though the trout are some how getting serious about doing absolutely nothing.   What used to be a trout that was just slow on the take, turns to defiant avoidance of even the best flies my fly box can muster.   The final insult comes when the trout moves only enough to avoid being hit square on the nose by my best presentation of the day. 

How far will trout take this behavior?  To the point where you feel like stepping on them might be your best bet.  If that isn’t possible, river rock lobbed like a hand grenade into the enemy’s lair sends a clear signal that you’ll be back!  You decide in this sport when the day is lost.   There is no referee to mark on your fishing license that you got skunked that day but looking at it won’t feel the same until you’ve landed your next fish.   

It is these moments that I let burn in real good.  I feel like I have to, if I want to be an angler who betters ones self.   As a guide, I spend every idle   moment plotting to avoid that situation.   When fishing with a friend who is new to the sport, the pressure to produce is only limited by your own personal passion for the sport. 

As it would turn out, there is a balance to nature and the answer to this dilemma would be in the antithesis of laziness- tenacity.  At the first sign of trouble, there is a moment that you choose to give your efforts something special to make it happen.  When your normal effort might not be enough that day, you need to realize this and take action.

This means covering more of the river than usual.  A healthy curiosity of what the stream looks like around the next corner becomes an obsession by the end of the day.  The whole experience seems to sharpen the senses as you try you make the most of each prime location.   Now is not the time for conservative casting and a wait-and-see mantra.  

I often find myself doing complex mathematical calculations on the river that involve the distance to the car, steepness of the canyon, sunlight and the location of pickable wildflowers for my angry girlfriend.   Nothing says “Sorry, I’m late” like a grass wrapped trout and a bouquet of hand picked flowers.

A Colorado native, T.J. Pence has been a fly fishing guide in and around RMNP for many years, and currently guides for Rocky Mountain Anglers. He has been involved in fly tying, rod building and tackle making since his youth. To learn more about him and see some of his artwork, visit his personal web site at stoneyriveroutfitters.com.