George and Michele took a wet fly lesson with me on Tuesday, and deserved much better than what they put into it. We started out in the lower end of the PTMA. The water was perfect for wet flies, but there was no hatch activity and virtually no visible feeding. We had a good, long streamside classroom session, but we had to scrap for the few touches we received. George and Michele both did an excellent job of getting their flies where they needed to be, but you can’t catch what doesn’t want to eat.
So we zipped down below the PTMA and were greeted by: more of the same. The fish were a little more active, but still no real hatch, nor feeding. Although both George and Michele put trout in the hoop, they didn’t get rewarded for the fine level they wet fly fished at. Our fishing window was 1pm-5pm, and to prove it wasn’t them, I swung wets for 90 minutes, 6pm-7:30pm, above the PTMA, and managed only two trout. Not good. At 7:30 I switched to dry, and proceeded to….wait. Nothing happened. 8pm. Still no rises. Finally, I moved downstream 200 feet, where I found a couple risers and landed them both. From 8:30-9:15pm, all hell broke loose, and it was a trout on every cast, even after I could no longer see the fly. Caddis 16-18, little Sulphurs 16-18, and midges filled the air and littered the surface of the water.
This is typical for this time of year when the hatch is delayed. If you want to catch fish, my best advice is to wait it out, then take advantage of the dusk feeding frenzy.
This was the scene on the walk out. The photo really doesn’t do it justice; there were thousands of bugs in the air and on the water, and the trout were eagerly gulping them down. Fly selection was irrelevant; I took them on 16 The Magic Fly, 12 and 16 The Usual, and 12 and 16 Catskills Light Cahill.
Summer is here early, and with a vengeance. The good news is that we have solid summer flows coming out of the dam at a favorable temperature:
However, note that the water temperature spikes five degrees by late afternoon, just from the release of the dam down to the measuring point at the bridge in Riverton. It doesn’t take a math whiz to reckon that once the river reaches Collinsville, the water is going to be significantly warmer.
This is where you and a good water temperature thermometer come in. If you don’t have one, you should get one. (I use this IR wine thermometer, $30 from Amazon). There is some debate about what the cutoff temperature for fishing is; 67-68 seems to be the number. My present policy is to call it at 67; that is, if it’s 67 or higher, I won’t fish for trout.
Also note that evening, night, and early morning are going to be your best times for find favorable temperatures; what’s more, those coincide with low light periods, which are generally good times to fish.
Finally, this time of year sees explosive feeding activity, starting around 7:30pm and building exponentially into dark. Don’t make the mistake of leaving the water at 8:15pm. You’ll be missing the best dry fly fishing of the day.
I fished the lower river Monday evening. The weather was vastly different than today’s; it was overcast and downright chilly for June. I swung wets for a couple hours, and the action was disappointing. Three trout on wets late afternoon this time of year ain’t exactly lighting it up. Part of that had to do with a sub-par hatch and very little visible feeding activity. Then, there was the cursing incident. Another angler thought I was bogarting his water; instead of talking to me about it, I was treated to a torrent of f-bombs and called various other unpleasant names that use slang to describe parts of the human body. Even though I thought he was being unreasonable (given the size and popularity of the pool) I apologized and backed away — and still, the venom and vitriol rain down upon me. Here’s the punch line: before I entered the water, I’d spent a few minutes asking where he was going to be fishing (he had been sitting on a log, taking a break), talking about flies, and I’d even gave him one of my favorite patterns. No good deed, etc.
To top it off, the fishing mostly stunk. I fooled a good number of fish on dries, and came away with no purchase on the hook set. I did eventually catch fish, but it wasn’t the lights out feeding orgy I had hoped for. Observed: midges, small caddis, a few sulphurs, a couple bigger Light Cahills.
But, every day is different, and Tuesday serves as the proof. I guided Brian from 1pm to 5pm, and he basically slayed them. We did our streamside classroom — this was a wet fly lesson — then we got into the water and began catching trout. The run we fished in the PTMA had a few risers, but nothing really consistent. Still, he got two in the hoop before we moved on to the lower river.
The pool we fished was a dream scenario for a wet fly lesson. You instruct the client; the client listens and executes, and the trout reward his efforts by jumping on with gusto. I don’t know how many trout we caught, but they smashed every fly on our team of three (sz 14 Squirrel and Ginger, sz 14 tan LF Diving Caddis, sz 12 BHSHPT multiple times. The rainbows offered tremendous sport; several of them performed cartwheels and aerials that would do any steelhead proud. Brian did a fantastic job of casting, mending, presenting, and covering water. Yet another Dangerous Wet Fly Machine has been created!
Hook. Play. Land. Repeat. Brian crushed them, and I was particularly impressed with how fast he landed his fish. Get ’em in, get ’em off — that’s the way to do it when you’re playing the catch-and-release game. Well done, Brian!
After our lesson, I was feeling ambivalent about fishing, but I had plans to meet “Summer on the Farmington” film director Matthew Vinick, so I headed up to the PTMA. I found him in a snotty boulder field, and while my plan was to start by swinging wets, there was no one(!) in one of the most popular dry fly pools on the river. So I jumped on that.
Within 15 minutes, there were five other anglers in the run. Funny thing! We all managed to share the water (and we were all significantly closer together than I was to the Monday Night Curser) without anyone getting upset.
Even though I was the first in the pool, I made the wrong choice of real estate. Has this ever happened to you? You pick your water and the trout are rising above you, and below you, but not in front of you. I did catch a few fish on The Usual sz 16 and the Magic Fly size 16, but when the gentleman below me left around 7:45 pm, I eagerly moved into his slot. And that was the right call, because there were far more active feeders in that area. The trout were taking sulphur emergers and the occasional straggling sulphur dun, and on this night it was just like the early June Farmington River dry fly playbook said it would be: match the hatch in size and color, make a good drift over a feeding lane, and the trout will eat the fly. I have no idea how many eats I had, but it was a lot.
At 8:15 I switched over to a sz 16 Light Cahill Catskills style dry, and it took about 10 minutes of fading light for the trout to want to eat that fly. By 8:40 I had upped to a size 12, same fly, and it was a fish on every cast until I could no longer see the fly and the frenzy began to wane. I went 10 casts without a take, then called it.
I couldn’t remember the last time I left the river so happy.
As I write this, I am ensconced in my new writer’s cave (non-cave actually, what with the long, tall windows that allow voluminous amounts of sunshine to spill into the room). I’m wrangling sprinklers on our newly hydroseeded lawn — sod to come tomorrow for other areas. This whole watering thing takes several hours a day. And then there are all the other new-house things on the to-do list…
The book is keeping me busy, too. I should be out fishing and taking notes on the river and hatches and then taking photos and so dammit, that’s what I’m doing tonight, and tomorrow, too, after my afternoon lesson. My current goal is 7,000 words per month, which I didn’t quite reach in May, and now one-third of the way into June I’m lagging for this month, too. Not that I’m complaining! It is a privilege to be writing this book, and I’m taking every step to make sure that I do it right.
So I’ve come to the realization that the new normal for Currentseams is probably going to continue in the catch-as-catch-can mode for the foreseeable future. I will of course try to keep you up to date on my fishing experiences and other must-have news, but don’t be alarmed if in any given week there’s only a couple — or one — posts. I appreciate your patience and your readership. And of course, please keep the questions coming.
No. Not here, not now.
Speaking of the Farmington River, right now is a great time to be out fishing. The summer hatches are beginning to ramp up and we have good flows. I’ll try to get a report up on Wednesday. Hope to see you on the river!
My deepest apologies for being so late with this report. On Monday I spent a lovely afternoon on the river with Farmington River guide extraordinaire Steve Hogan and Delaware River guide/photographer par excellence Bob Lindquist. Steve and I were fishing and Bob was shooting, both for an article he’s writing and for my book. We started off in the PTMA, me swinging wets and Steve with a dry/dropper combo. There were a few caddis about, but not a lot. We both took several trout.
We moved operations to the lower river where I focused on some snotty whitewater in a boulder field to swing wets. Steve went to Euronymph the dum- in to a pool and took trout after trout on his rig, mostly fat, stocked rainbows. I had less action, but did take a gorgeous wild brown with brilliant orange spots. Witnessed: caddis, Light Cahill, Isonychia, and sulphur, albeit in statistically insignificant numbers.
At this point, you may be wondering, “Steve, you were on a photoshoot. Where the heck are all the amazing photos?” Sadly, what Bob shot — and he got some wonderful pictures of fish and anglers and action and bent rods and splashing trout — is for his article and the book only. What’s more, I forgot to bring my camera along, so I have no secondary shots to share. All I can tell you is: it will be worth the wait.
Not from Monday. But there was a lot of this going on!
At this point Steve left and Bob and I ventured off to another boulder field. Even though the sun was still high and there was virtually no hatch activity, I had a banner 60 minutes bailing trout on wet flies. We called it just before 6pm, as Bob had a long drive home, but I have no doubt that if I had stayed, I would have done some significant damage as the evening hatch ramped up.
Later, I did some thinking about why I didn’t get as many fish on wet flies as I thought I should have. My best guess is that in the bright sunlight, the trout were congregating in the deepest water they could find. The last mark I fished was mostly in shade. The evening hatches were probably starting to ramp up. So there’s your most likely answer.
This is a great time to be fishing the river. I hope you get the chance to get out.
As I suspected, writing the book is has become a major time sink. Not that I’m necessarily complaining — I really enjoy writing about fly fishing — but I’d rather be doing it than writing about it.
So, the fishing has suffered a bit, and my mid-to-late spring grass shrimp outings are a perfect case study. Normally by this time of year I’ve been out multiple times. Last night was my first, and I may not get out for it again until next year. I picked a meh night for it. The swarm was probably a 3 out of 10, and there wasn’t much on it. I fished my usual three-fly team (last night’s lineup: Grass Shrimp Solution top dropper, Orange Ruthless clam worm middle dropper, Micro Gurgler on point). I fished a modified swing and dangle. I had to work over the course of 90 minutes to hook one shad and two bass, and those fish came in a bite window of 30 minutes. But I was happy to be there, the cigar was swell, and I felt like I spent part of an evening with a dear old friend.
Some nights, you get fish on all three flies. Other nights, they want one thing only, and last night it was the Micro Gurgler.
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