That’s what my friends Willie and Del called it. And of course, what they called the Big D is actually the main stem of the Delaware River, which begins in the Village of Hancock at the confluence of the Beaverkill and West Branch of the Delaware River. In many ways, the Delaware River is an enigma, because its flows were once erratic and water temperatures were frequently unstable, rising above 80 degrees Fahrenheit during the summer. That all changed with the passage of the water releases legislation in 1976, which stabilized flows and water temperatures as far downstream as Lordville.

Before 1976, trout fishing was spotty once June arrived because of low flows, sporadic releases and fluctuating water temperatures. Fishing opportunities for both brown and rainbow trout have improved dramatically since that time.

I first learned about the Delaware River and its trout fishery in the late 1950s, when my friend Ted called and invited me to his home to admire the three large rainbows that he had on his kitchen counter. When I asked where he caught them, he said, “In the Delaware River at the third riff above Kellam’s Bridge.” (“Riff” is a slang abbreviation for “riffle.”)

My eyes became very wide, looking at those three beautiful trout, and it did not take long for me to make my friend Tony aware of Ted’s success. About a week later, we were on our way. And for us, the journey between our homes in Westchester County and the Delaware River was a very long ride. It involved taking Route 9 to Route 6 in Peekskill, through Bear Mountain State Park and onto Route 17. We took Route 17 to the White Lake exit, which is Route 17B, all the way over to Route 97, which runs along the Delaware. I think the trip took about three hours each way. That’s why we left at six in the morning and returned around nine at night.

During those trips to the Delaware, which sometimes took place during the summer, we did not pay much attention to water temperature. That being said, I can recall wading around in the river, the water flowing around my hip boots, feeling on the warm side. We were more fishermen than biologists in those days.

Of all the trips that we made to the Delaware, back in the late ‘50s, I don’t think I caught more than two trout. As a matter of record, Tony always caught more fish than I did, and even he did not do that well. However, I do recall one May morning, fishing near Long Eddy, when I caught a very large brown, a rare feat for me!

After I returned from college and went to work for the DEC in New Paltz, I met Ed VanPut. Soon we began to fish the Delaware together, despite the irregular flows and unstable water temperatures. Even in the late 1960s and early ‘70s, water conditions remained unstable. Only when the Delaware River Master called for releases from the Cannonsville or Pepacton Reservoirs, to meet the flow mandated at Montague, NJ, did water temperatures drop significantly. Only then would there be hatches and fishing.

But even then, with cooler water temperatures, stable flows and decent hatches, catching trout in that river was no easy task, certainly for me. Although I fished the river on a regular basis, I caught very few trout. The Delaware is a big, wide and deep river, and wading is not easy. More often than not, when there’s a decent hatch with a lot of rising trout, I could not wade close enough or cast far enough to reach those feeding fish. Casts of 60 to 70 feet, while wading chest deep, is not a feat that even good casters can make.

The little success that I had fishing the Delaware came on the few occasions when I had access to a canoe. Fishing from a canoe allowed me to paddle close enough to reach a reasonable casting range, where I found that Delaware trout were not that hard to catch.

A few days ago, and after I began this story, I checked my diary to see when I last fished the “Big D.” I was shocked to learn it was September 30, 1990. On that day over 35 years ago, my friends Willie and Heidi fished the water we accessed through a parcel owned by Billy Knight, whom Willie knew. It was also the last day of trout season in 1990. We found a beautiful pool there, where the river narrowed, allowing us to cast to rising trout that were in reasonable casting range. To top it off, there were a few different species of mayflies on the water and a number of trout rising.

It turned out to be one of those rare days where the River Gods shine down upon fly fishers, when all conditions align. As a result, I had my best day ever and landed a number of decent browns and rainbows. Willie and Heidi also caught several trout between them.

The Delaware River does not give up its trout easily, so one has to be thankful when a few trout come to the net and leave contented, with a smile as another season comes to an end.