That inflammatory title doesn’t refer to the fish — plenty of Micropterus dolomieu to go around — but rather to the number of big, classic Connecticut fly fishing rivers currently with flows in the triple digits of cfs.
While neither extreme is preferable, I really don’t enjoy fishing in low water. Like the Farmington, the Hous (96cfs, 75 degrees) is rapidly becoming a featureless rock garden. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like Hermine is going to give us even a temporary respite (I understand that going back to 2015, our state is at a 14-inch rain deficit). And so we carry on.
But enough of the negative waves.
Yesterday was a good day for a little father-sons wet-wading fly fishing for smallies expedition. Here are a few shots from Dad’s brag book.
Cam’s on! Cam says: “These things fight like little steelhead.”
Gordo’s on! Gordo says: “Why do they keep jumping out of the water?” This smallie gave us two spectacular aerials.
Today’s special: Crayfish. Half-off.