Hooked Up: January 2026

If you’re anything like me, you’re transitioning out of a busy fall hunting season and turning your attention back to winter and spring trout. In years past, I used to feel a little guilty about spending so much time in a bow stand while cold fronts barreled through, convinced I was missing out on a big trout bite. But if these are the most complicated problems I ever face, I’ll count myself lucky.

As we’ve all noticed, it’s been a warm winter so far. This is the first year I’ve sat in that tree and not worried I was missing a trophy trout somewhere on Baffin. Decades of time on the water here have taught me a hard truth: the big-trout bite simply doesn’t happen until we’ve had enough true northerly weather to drop and hold water temperatures in the 55–65°F range. Until that happens, I’m not missing much—and I’m better off enjoying my time in the woods instead of forcing a bite that isn’t going to happen.

All that said—the time is now. The bow is hung up, the new Haynie is in the driveway, and the books are basically full. And that may not have been the case if the weather hadn’t finally shifted to the kind that puts big trout exactly where they should be, exactly when they should be there.

If you’re retired or fortunate enough to choose your fishing days, focus on the warming days after a cold front—especially those with a 10–20 mph southeast wind pushing a good chop onto a shallow shoreline. Even better is when two fronts are stacked close together and you get that warm window sandwiched between them. That’s probably my all-time favorite setup when the goal is a true heavyweight bite.

Of course, most folks don’t get to cherry-pick their days. So let me remind you: I’ve never seen a big trout caught from the comfort of a recliner or from the boat deck while eating a taco with the lure snapped to the reel. You work with what you’ve got and make every cast believing this is the one.

Fishing with confidence is the difference between anglers who catch fish and anglers who simply cast. I learned that years ago fishing tournaments, and I see it every week with clients. The angler who booked the trip is usually dialed-in—focused, paying attention, reading water, watching bait. That guy catches fish. Meanwhile, third-cousin Jimmy is checking Facebook and stock prices and might luck into one hit to the focused angler’s ten. Happens all the time.

That’s the fine line we walk every day—what turns a tough day into a successful one. On those magical days when everything clicks and the fish are practically jumping in the boat, confidence doesn’t really matter. But on the days when the fish fed overnight, the barometric pressure is sky-high, or the front blew in as you launched—that’s when confidence pays off. It’s what separates the anglers who grind out a bite from the ones who pack it in early.