Author Archives: Steve Culton

A few days ago, on a small stream…

As we bid farewell to March and say hello to April, I’d like to personally thank the CT DEEP for eliminating the closed season trout fishing rule. The old reg made it illegal to fish for wild trout in non-WTMA streams from March 1 though Opening Day. Enough with that nonsense! And let’s go fishing.

Since I had no previous experience fishing the day’s mark this time of year, I was curious about might be happening. As I mentioned in my last post, this not winter/not spring netherworld can be a tricky period. My random conditions drawing got me a low-side-of-medium, crystal clear flow; a mix of sun and clouds; and temperatures that struggle to get into the low 40s. I did see a few stray midges, but nothing that could be considered a proper hatch.

Spring must be close. Always a comforting sight, the skunk cabbage are popping everywhere, a clue that warmer days will soon be upon us.

The method was bushy dry/tiny bead head nymph dropper and the jigged micro streamer/nymph. If it was a deeper plunge, I did the latter. Everything else got the dry/dropper. I was pleased to find a wild char in a mark that has disappointed me no end. It’s really fishy, with plenty of cover and a big boulder that borders a deeper slot. The fish hit the dropper, but there was no hook set. Much farther upstream , I also had some repeated swipes at the dry, but again no hook set. Tug-tug-tug!!! Someone in a roiling plunge really wanted the jiggy thingy, and — stop me if you’ve heard this one before — there was, again, a failure to seal the deal.

I wish I could tell you that it turned on at some point, but those three touches were all I could manage. I wasn’t surprised, but I was disappointed. I suspect further research will need to be conducted this month.

But that’s not where the story ends.

I decided to drive to another mark, the place where I caught Alan last month. (Yes, I’m weird enough that I name fish. Sometimes I name them after real people, like Alan. Other times they’re just fictional , like Gus in this story.) I wasn’t sure if I was hoping for a Hail Mary or just didn’t want to end the session. I drifted the dry dropper through some deeper plunges and runs, then walked upstream.

And there it was. The place where I’d caught Alan. I spent a few minutes observing its wonderfulness. It’s at the head of a longer run. There’s a good, small cut bank with an overhanging tree that will one day fall into the brook. A deep cut runs parallel to the cut bank, and it’s evident why this a prime mark for an alpha fish: cover, current, and the head of the cafeteria line.

This time it took only one cast. The dry vanished from the surface, and when I raised the rod tip I could see that the nymph had been the target. It was a good brookie, and I immediately assumed it was Alan. Into the net, camera readied, shot taken, release completed.

It wasn’t until I got home and saw the photos that I realized that this wasn’t Alan. Wonderful thing, unique spotting! I’ve dubbed this guy “Alan’s Brother.” It all makes sense now. When I was taking this shot, I was thinking that I’d over-estimated Alan’s size. This was certainly an exceptional char for this size brook, but I remembered Alan being bigger. So, it’s good news all around: there’s more than one big old brookie in this town. I hope they made lots of whoopee last fall.

Exploring a new small stream

Last week, I went exploring on X Brook. It wasn’t a great day for fishing small streams; windy, cold front, brilliant sunshine and no canopy. Until recently, X Brook was completely off my radar. Access isn’t easy; you’ve got to do a bit of walking, and it’s surrounded by fairly dense woods and bushes. I thought you’d like to hear how I went about reconning some new water.

First, I hiked through the woods, heading upstream, taking care not to walk with heavy footfalls, and never getting close enough to the water to spook any fish. I made mental notes of potentially fishy areas, like long, glassy pools, and plunges. I wanted to be prepared for them for when I worked the brook downstream.

I kept the fly selection simple. We’re into the netherworld of not spring, not winter, so fish could be hanging out in cold water lies (think maximum depth in any given brook) as well as snottier runs and plunges. A bushy dry with a beadhead nymph dropper would cover two sections of water on any given drift. I also had a tungsten beadhead attractor nymphy/streamery thing to jig in the plunges. I felt like that had me covered for whatever water I encountered. I switched rigs up a few times, but the answer was always the same — no one home, or no one interested.

I was bitterly disappointed that no tug was forthcoming along this shadow line. I mean, c’mon! Really?

One of the things I like to do when I get no hits in a pool or run is see if I missed anything. What I mean is, if there’s a particularly sexy bit of water, and I blank, I like to find out if there were any fish. I start by standing up and making myself large in full view of anything that may be hiding. Sometimes I’ll wave a stick through the water to try to and spook fish. It’s a good idea to take great care when wading in a small stream, especially from fall through mid-spring — you don’t want to disturb any redds or crush unhatched eggs. I was a little surprised (not to mention bummed) that I didn’t see a single darting shadow in any of the runs I disturbed.

Finally, there was a decision to be made: is this stream worthy of another visit? In this case, I think it is. There is enough structure, flow and potential canopy. What’s more, I only explored a small section. It may very well be that where I was is more of a late spring/summer/fall environment, and that the best winter water is elsewhere.

I’ll keep you posted.

A Tardy Mid-March Steelhead Report

Two weeks ago, Gordo and I floated the Salmon River with guide to the stars Row Jimmy, aka James Kirtland. Conditions weren’t great, nor were they dreadful, and that’s about as good as you can hope for in mid-March in upstate New York. That time of year can be a real mixed bag in terms of action: pre-spawn fish, spawning fish, largely indifferent fish, stale fish, fresh fish, cold or high water. You just never know what you’re going to get. We floated mid-river both days. Here’s what went down.

Monday: We started off below freezing, and we had to do the clearing-ice-from-the-guides dance until very late morning. Although Gordo and I fished hard and well, we had nothing to show for our efforts. The dam release was 1.2K, dropping to 900 at noon; the water was lightly stained and very cold at 34 degrees. Around noon we anchored in some fast, surging water, and I was stunned when my indicator dipped; this was the last place I expected to find fish. I never got a hookset, but it was definitely a bite. A few casts later I hooked up proper. So proper, in fact, that I was stunned when the steelhead came unbuttoned about 20 seconds into the fight. (Insert heavy sigh here.) A couple casts later, I was on again. We could tell it was a good fish because it ran upriver in a blazing 1.4K flow. But we realized something was amiss when the fish turned downstream and ran…and ran…and ran…I was far into my backing when I finally pointed my rod tip at the fish and terminated the connection. (Insert second heavy sigh here.) I reminded myself that the nice thing about multi-day steelheading trips is that there’s always tomorrow…

A low-res capture from video that shows — I think — the speed and chop and power of the current where I had those three touches. That was our action for entire day. We carpet bombed the bottom of several higher-percentage pools where Jim had been finding fish, but there was to be no love. I was exhausted and hungry; wings and pizza and Yeungling from Stefano’s took care of the latter, and a 9pm lights out the former.

Tuesday: “@#$% guides make you get up so &^%$ early.” Those were my words to Jim, uttered in mock disgust (but not inaccurate) as we sat in the boat in the dark and rain at 5:30am. Jim wanted us to lock down a prime spot, hence our early start time. Even though I’d already had my coffee, I felt like I could easily nod off. The fishing began as a duplicate of Monday: good drifts over worthy water, with nothing to show for it. Then, I had a strike. It was a big, chrome steelhead, but the take was 60 feet downstream of me. I set the hook as best I could, and began to clear my line in preparation for the battle. The thing about being tired and cold — 36 degrees and raining is, in my opinion, far more chilling that 20 and not raining — is that you might not have your A-game dexterity. The line fouled against my fingers, the fish surged, and then I was forlornly reeling in a limp line to check my hook point.

Our perseverance was rewarded at the next mark. Gordo landed one, then lost a beast of a steelhead inches short of the net when the leader snapped. So go the accidents of war when you’re steelheading.

Big fish + strong current = a good bend in the rod. Gordo was bummed that we didn’t get this one in the hoop, but he got his money’s worth with the fight. In another time and place, he’d have better luck. I’m so fortunate to be able to enjoy moments like this with my sons. Maybe the equation is: Fishing + your sons = treasure.

Then, it was my turn. I’d just finished giving myself a pep talk that went along the lines of: You’re a good angler. You’re fishing in a spot that holds steelhead. You’re fishing with a high-confidence pattern (Copperhead Stone). You can catch a steelhead. The very next cast was a hookup, and a few minutes later I was releasing her 50 yards downstream. Jim did a great job getting into a position where he could net her — they’d been fishing about 75 yards below me — and since all I need is one to make my happy, you can understand the smile on my face.

All I need is one steelhead. She’s a beauty, this one. Thus sated, we fished about one more hour, blanked, declared victory, and headed home.

Last night, while you were sleeping…

…I was catching my first striped bass of 2022. The conditions weren’t great — rising barometer, gusty winds, cold, rain showers — brrrr! But you don’t know if you don’t go, and she was right where she was supposed to be. She hit the Rock Island flatwing like a ton of bricks and gave me a couple powerful, short runs. The presentation was a greased line swing, and the hit came about halfway through the delivery.

Not huge, but 10 pounds is 10 pounds. This is the first slot fish I’ve taken in a long time.

CT Striper Anglers: Amendment 7 public hearing and comment

Once again, those of us who love striped bass have a chance to make our voices heard. The ASMFC is currently conducting public hearings; Connecticut’s virtual meeting is being hosted by DEEP, and it happens on Tuesday, March 22, 6pm-8pm. As our friends at the ASGA have said: Get involved. Do what is right for the stock. Do what is right for future generations.

Contact: Justin Davis 860.447.4322

Register for the webinar here. Make sure you select the correct date/location. You can attend any meeting you would like, just make sure to include your home state in your comment.

Please note that in order to comment during virtual webinar hearings you will need to use your computer or download the GoToWebinar app for your phone. Those joining by phone only will be limited to listening to the presentation and will not be able to provide input.

Here are the main issues for Amendment 7, along with the AGSA’s thoughts on what’s best for the fishery.

Finally, if you (like me) can’t attend a hearing, the public comment period ends on April 15, 2022. Individual emails are what counts the most. Form letters count the least. Send your comment to comments@asmfc.org with the subject line “Draft Amendment 7.” ASGA will be running a raffle again this time. There will be awesome prizes from our best sponsors. Just copy stripercomments@gmail.com in your email to ASMFC and you are entered. It does not matter if you agree with our positions or not. We just want folks to participate in this process.

Don’t be bashful. Open your mouth and let your voice be heard!

New menu item: a guide trip checklist

As the demand for my guide services increases, I’m trying to figure out how to make things easier for everyone. So I created a “Preparing for Your Guide Trip” checklist/infographic and added it to the menu bar at the top of the homepage:

The checklist, shown below, is also available as a pdf under the “Guide Trips/Lessons” link. I’m hoping that you find it helpful!

Tip of the week: check those hook points

It’s easy to tell I’ve been steelheading. All you need to do is look at my right thumbnail.

That’s where I test the sharpness of my hook points. (You do know that a sharp hook is the single most important thing in fly fishing, yes?) There’s nothing more important than a sharp hook. This becomes self evident with any bottom-style presentation. The fly tumbles downriver, bumpety-bump, over sand, rocks, boulders, sticks, and whatever other things might be lurking down below. Contact — especially repeated contact — with any of them can result in a dull hook point.

So when I snag the bottom, the first thing I do before the next cast is check my hook point. Even without a snag, I am constantly checking my hook points. Every ten casts should be a no-brainer. Maybe you want to check after every five. Do it every three or two or even one and I still won’t call you crazy. Au contraire. You, dear sir or madame, are being a savvy angler.

You’ve heard of striper thumb? This is steelhead thumbnail. To check sharpness, you drag the hook point across your nail. The point should stick to your nail like Scotch tape. If it doesn’t, the hook isn’t sharp. Off it comes. Most steelhead are won and lost at hook set. Be ruthless about the sharpness of your hooks and you’ll catch a lot more fish.

Steelheading isn’t fair. You can do everything right and still drop fish. I know I am going to lose steelhead due to an occasional sloppy hook set. I know I will lose steelhead because sometimes the fish bests me. I know I will lose steelhead for no other reason than plain bad luck. But I will never lose a steelhead because my hook points aren’t sharp.

A good, healthy fishing breakfast

If you’re friends with me on Facebook, you already know that I’m a food and wine guy. Now, I love a charcoal-grilled cheeseburger as much as the next person (or, since we’re talking about breakfast, a sausage and egg and cheese sandwich). But I try to eat healthy as much as possible. A good example would be this delicious, easy-to-make breakfast. It’s been my pre-fishing breakfast for a long time.

I think the industry term is “Serving Suggestion.” I make the tomato juice a Virgin Mary version with hot pepper sauce, Worcestershire, and (antioxidant-rich) horseradish.

It’s based on the kind of breakfast you’d see served in many Latin American countries: brown rice, red beans, an egg and little bit of reduced-fat cheese. You’ve got your fats, your fiber, your carbs, and your protein. Serve it with a glass of tomato juice, and you can add a veggie to that list. It comes together in about ten minutes, and it will keep you going on the river until snack time. If you don’t want the cholesterol from the egg, remove the yolk. Or make it two egg whites for a low-fat, extra protein punch. Your favorite hot pepper sauce provides some flavorful heat.

You need 1/2 cup Minute brown rice, 1/3 cup small red beans, an egg, 1 tbs. reduced fat cheese. While the rice is cooking, rinse the beans in a sieve. (You can keep the extra beans in a sealed container for a few days.) I steam the beans on top of the rice about five minutes into the process. Fry the egg, plate the egg and rice & beans, and sprinkle with the cheese. (One tablespoon is not a lot of cheese. That’s on purpose.) Enjoy!

Farmington River Report 3/10/22: Slow she goes

I fished the Farmington yesterday from 1pm-4pm, dedicated to the streamer cause. We had bright sunlight and seasonal temperatures; the water in the Permanent TMA was 480cfs and clear. While there were a few bugs in the air (midges and and a very small dark un-IDed mayfly) I didn’t see any surface activity. Angler traffic was moderate; there were people fishing in two of the three pools I visited.

The first mark was a riffley dump-in to a larger pool; the method was long-leader jigged mini-streamers. That was a blank. I had the second mark to myself. Again, I went the jigged streamer route with no love. I switched over to a more traditional streamer (Coffey Sparkle Minnow) and my full-sink integrated line and hammered up zero-point-zero trout. Not one measly touch.

The third mark was by now in the shade, which I hoped would work to my advantage. I worked downstream in a long pool with the same results. A walk upstream a 150 yard through the woods warmed me up a bit, and I cycled through again. Finally, a dull thud, a hookset, and soon a chunky rainbow was in the hoop. This is tough time of year to fish (I did not see another trout hooked all afternoon). Happy with one, I called it a day.

Capture! It felt so good after 2 hours and 55 minutes of blankness. Pre-celebrated with a San Cristobal Quintessence Churchill.

The ASGA Road Show comes to CT Weds March 16

The infographic below just about says it all. I’ll be posting more on the ASGA position for ASMFC Amendment 7 soon, but in the meantime here’s a great way to have fun and get informed. You can register for the event here.