CALIFON, N.J.- The banks of the Califon River were crowded in this small New Jersey town on a quaint Saturday. It had only been a week since the opening day of trout season, and anglers from all over came to try their hand at catching dinner, or just for the thrill of the fight.
Califon is known for fly fishing, with many anglers flocking to the Ken Lockwood Gorge, a fly fishing only park, to stalk trout. However, other anglers could be found along the banks of the Califon River leading up to the gorge, where spinning rods are allowed, and catch-and-release is not enforced.
Local angler Casey Futterman, 22 of Long Valley was casting his fly right at a small bend before the entrance to the gorge where he can keep the fish in hopes of bringing home a trout to eat tonight. “The stocked trout are raised to be eaten. They don’t have a purpose other than to be caught and cooked,” he said. “If I can get two to three 6 plus inchers, that’s a day well spent.”
Watching Futterman cast back and forth a small fly smaller than a penny was everything one would expect it to be: an art. The careful rhythm of the back-cast paired with the delicate placement of the fly on the water is nothing short of a beautiful sight.
Once the fly hit the water, it would drift down river, mimicking the topwater insects that a trout would normally eat. “You watch the fly on top as it makes it’s drift, and when the fish strikes your gonna know it strikes,” Futterman said.
After multiple casts up and down river, not much was biting for Futterman, yet he was not discouraged. “Catching it on the fly is the hardest way to fish next to catching it with your hands,” he said. “A fly fisherman is happy if he gets one to two fish after being out for six hours.”
Futterman reeled in his line to change his fly, as he wasn’t having much luck with his original choice. He casted the new fly out, and on the second drift, a strike. Out of nowhere, a small splash of water right on top of the fly, and Futterman set the hook. “Got ‘em!” he exclaimed.
The river was seemingly empty, until out of the blue, a fish strikes the fly, and is reeled in by its hunter. The fish tries to fight the line, but is only dragged in further by Futterman. He grabs a net from the back of his vest and reaches down to make the final capture of a medium-sized rainbow trout. Now in the net, the fish surrenders and lays motionless as Futterman removes the fly from its lip with a pair of forceps.
The skin of the rainbow trout is just how it sounds, a rainbow. A pink stripe goes down its entire body, and golden spots cover the rest. “This one’s going on the stringer,” Futterman said referring to the device used to hold trout in place once caught. With one fish caught, Futterman knew there was room for more. “I got a feelin’ these trout are hungry,” he said as he cast out his fly in hopes for another strike.