Backpacking and Flyfishing Ten Kilns Brook (Vermont)

Ten Kilns Brook is in Vermont’s Big Branch Wilderness near Mt Baker. It’s easy to access from Forest Road #10 followed by a hike south on the AT/LT and the Old Job Trail. I backpacked this section last summer and made a mental note to revisit it because it appeared to be excellent trout habitat. It’s named after the ten brick-lined charcoal kilns that once existed along the brook. Remnants of the kilns’ brick lining can be found downstream along the riverbank and on the trails.

I’m normally in too much of a hurry on my backpacking trips (to get somewhere) to spend my time fishing, so after backpacking into the brook, I planned to spend the next two days fishing. I find I can only concentrate on one activity at a time. Upon arriving at the trailhead, I hiked about 2.5 miles upstream to the Old Job Shelter, a very rundown lean-to, and started fishing back to my car. I’d brought along my backpacking gear because I wanted to camp out and have the flexibility to hike farther into the wilderness to another brook, if the fishing didn’t pan out.

I’d brought two rods for this hike: a Tenkara USA Iwana and a Dragontail Hydra. The Iwana is hands-down my favorite rod, and I own two of them. I brought the Dragontail along as a backup, in case I broke the Iwana, and it didn’t see much action. It’s not a bad rod, but it’s better in pushier water.

The Ten Kiln Brook meanders back and forth as it flows downstream. For this trip, I followed it by hiking along its rock and boulder-strewn banks instead of the adjacent trail, crossing back and forth every time the brook zigged and I ran out of boulders to climb over. I counted 17 stream crossings in the first mile as I waded from one side to the other. The brook wasn’t running high and never reached over my calves as I crossed, although I was careful where I chose to cross.

The best crossings were in places where the riverbed was made up of smaller rocks and stones, where my feet could get good purchase in the nooks and crannies between them. My trekking poles were also useful to keep my balance. I was carrying my backpack for these crossings, and I didn’t want to fall. The water was very clear, so I could see exactly where I was going. Rather than take big steps, I’d slide the soles of my shoes forward, gingerly testing my traction, as I made my way across the brook.

Working my way down the brook banks was similar. I avoided bounding from boulder to boulder, staying as close to the ground as possible. The last thing I needed was a serious fall, because there was no one around to help me. While part of the hike into the brook followed the AT/LT, the trail adjacent to where I was fishing did not, so no one was around. I only saw two AT thru-hikers passing by that evening, when I was stealth camping farther downstream near an AT/LT lean-to.

Rather than carry my pack with me all the time, I’d carry it to the bottom of the section of brook I wanted to fish, drop it, and then work my way back upstream, casting as I went. This went on all day from 9 am to 7 pm when I finally broke off to set up camp and make dinner. It’d taken me 10 hours to fish just one mile of brook because there were so many great pools, pour-overs, and runs to fish along the way. My shoulders ached that evening from casting all day, but I slept well.

The trout were very feisty in that brook, and I had some epic battles. I mainly used dry flies and terrestrials on this outing. When approaching a new feature, I’d float an attractor pattern over all the places where trout were likely to hold. They’d make themselves known by lunging for it, but spit it out most of the time. Once I knew where they were, I’d cycle through my fly box trying to entice them with a smaller fly, under the hypothesis that they’d rejected the attractor because its hook size was too large. My attractors are a size #12, and I have #14 and #16 dries and terrestrials. Even then, they were hitting the flies but not taking them. I’d get a half dozen hits off a fly, and then the trout would stop responding altogether. It was a little aggravating, but I managed to catch a few over the course of the day and released them. It was still good fun. 

One thing I did notice about this brook was the absence of terrestrials along the banks. It was surprising. I did see some green spiders and black grasshoppers, but not in the abundance I’d expect, which may explain why I had to work so hard to catch the trout I did encounter. Still, I want to change the composition of my fly box and tie some attractors in smaller hook sizes and increase the number of terrestrials I carry. My flybox is heavily weighted with dry flies, and I want to add some more variety back in, including ants and spiders.

This was my first dedicated fly fishing trip into the area, which has a number of brooks and streams worth exploring further. In addition to the Ten Kilns Brook, there’s Lake Brook, which drains stocked Griffith Lake and Big Branch, a mountain stream full of giant boulders that will require some serious bushwhacking to access.

As I was scrambling down the banks of Ten Kilns Brook, I couldn’t help but remember a trip I took many years ago when I did the same along the East Branch of the Pemigewasset River in the White Mountains. Rather than bushwhack through dense vegetation, I’d opted to hike along the rock-strewn riverbed. If you think about it, the people who originally lived in this region and subsequent explorers probably used the same tactic to travel. The rivers, streams, and brooks would have been more open and faster to travel along, although you certainly get a workout scrambling along the banks.

The next morning, I continued following the Ten Kilns Brook, but had to give up because the rocks and boulders alongside the brook were wet with morning dew. This made them dangerous to clamber over, especially since I was alone without a wing person to watch my back. While you can see the brook from the AT/LT lower down, the banks are too steep to descend safely. When I finally got back to my car around noon, I drove down to Silver Bridge, which spans a lower section of Big Branch, and had a session with more feisty trout. This entire area has attracted my fancy, and I hope to return for another trip this autumn, after i get back from Alaska.