When you drive north on Route 7, there's a point - probably just before the village of Kent - when you realize you're actually driving through a substantial floodplain. The hills either side take on the look of something approaching mountains and you haven't seen a strip mall in 10 miles. You're in the North-West CT "Highlands", and the ridge to your left is the Appalachian Trail as it clips Connecticut. And yes, it feels a bit like you're in a small version of Speyside, and you'll just have to take my word for this.
|When I posted this on Facebook, one of my friends from Scotland said "I thought you'd taken this in Scotland",|
but I had not.
|My right hand and a Brown Trout|
|Quite embarrassing, then, that we doubled on fallfish. (Incidentally, I think they are very pretty, will take a dry fly, and at the very least present a nice change from trout after stocked trout.)|
|Quick: here's a shovel-tailed male brown trout to make us feel better. He hammered a dry Adams and tugged well. It was nice to land him.|
|Speyside in Connecticut. We'll be back for our Thanksgiving Fruitcake, floods permitting.|