15: Close, so I provided my own cigar

Dec1

I spent three hours on the river today with mixed results. I spoke to one centerpinner who said he took over a dozen trout, some in the 20″ class, on trout beads. Another bait angler report a single fish in the first five minutes, then nothing for two hours.

So, what about us fly guys? I threw a mix of streamers on floating and full-sink lines for two hours. Two sharp bumps that felt like smaller fish, then a chase on the mended swing from a good-sized brown that was hiding behind a boulder; sadly, no hookup, and I could not entice him to play again.

Then, I switched to indicator nymphing, and used a small egg pattern as the bottom fly. And there he was, my only hookup of the day. Nothing to shout about, so no picture. However (and this is significant as winter and very cold water temperatures are nearly upon us) the take was not a full drop of the indicator, but rather a series of quick shudders; I set the hook, and the bottom fought back.

Tiny dark midges were out in force, and there were a couple fish rising haphazardly around 1pm. River was clear and running at 280cfs. A damp, drizzly, raw day, but nonetheless beautiful in the eyes of this angler. (And for those who care about my post titles, it was a Gispert Churchill.)

Why trout beads work. That’s a real egg on the left. This photo is from a steelheading trip in November 2013.

Bead&Egg 11-13

Late November Stripers

Nov28

Make that singular, for one bass was all I could manage. But it was, as someone once wrote, a perfect fish. Twenty-inch class, dime bright from the sea, with sharply contrasting lines and the attentive eyes of a predator on the hunt. Taken on the third cast. A sharp tug on the retrieve, then some willful bullrushing against the substantial moon tide.

I only fished for an hour (switch rod in two-hand mode, full integrated sink tip line, three-foot leader of 20# nylon) but that too was perfect: air temperatures in the mid-fifties, winds from the southwest, bottom half of the drop.

Both sky and angler were positively glowing on the walk back.

Today’s fly was a pink, olive, and chartreuse soft-hackled flatwing, just about sparse enough to read a newspaper though.

Sparse SHFlatwing

Farmington River Report 11/18/15: Old Reliable

Nov19

I had the pleasure of guiding Mark for a half day on Wednesday. Mark is just getting back into fly fishing for trout, and we spent most of our time indicator nymphing, with a half hour dedicated to streamers. The river was low (250cfs in the Permanent TMA), clear, and cold (sorry, no temp.) Not much in the way of hatch activity, but there were fish feeding subsurface. We witnessed several trout taken, among them a healthy, fat buck rainbow that Mark nymphed up on a bead head Pheasant Tail.

Old reliable produces again. We hit two spots within the Permanent TMA, and found fish willing to take a nymph in both of them. Well done, Mark!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Farmington River Report: A Steelhead Warm-Up

Nov9

A quick session to tune up the old indicator nymphing skills. Water was 255cfs, low for this time of year, and leaves (mostly oak) were a factor. Only fished for 90 minutes, and managed a big, fat rainbow with a wide pink band that, in true steelhead fashion, refused to come quietly to net. Taken on a Hare’s Ear and SLF bead head fuzzy nymph, size 12.

Baron von Chunkenstein. The indicator goes down, the rod tip goes up, and madness ensues.

Housy Streamer Report: I shoulda gone in October

Nov4

I’m not just into fly fishing for the chicks and drugs and hotel points. I’m also in it for the freedom factor. To able to be outside on a November day when the sun is warm, the river clear, the cigar tasty, and most of the rest of the world is working does a soul incalculable good. So what if the the catching is lousy? The fishing, my friends, is downright brilliant.

This year’s Housy streamer trip came late. I hit four name pools with my Mickey Finn soft-hackled streamer. I swung, mended, stripped, and dangled. One touch with no hook set was all I could manage. The water was an easily wadeable 565cfs, cold, with just the slightest of tea stains. A short trip, two hours, and I nursed my Gispert churchill for the better part of the outing. Swarms of small stuff, mostly midges, without a single riser.

And so, with big river visions taking up residence in my brain, we turn our sights to steelhead.

No tonic like it indeed.

Farmington River Report 10/29/15: More leaves than water

Oct30

Even after Wednesday’s rain and a healthy bump in water levels (up to about 450 cfs, slight stain), the story yesterday was leaves. Lots and lots of leaves. A couple midges, a stray caddis, some lonely mayflies, and what seemed like the castoffs from every tree in People’s State Forest. Streamers were the plan, and if I threw enough mends to sink the fly I hooked less flora, but for the two hours I fished there was a distinct lack of fauna.

And there it is, in a nutshell.

And it almost didn’t happen. I opened the back of my truck to discover I’d left my waders at home. Sal to the rescue! Sal is a friend and the owner of Legends On The Farmington. Did he have a pair of waders I could snag for a couple hours? You betcha. A JR Cuban Alternate robusto for a pair of Simms. Done and done. Sal’s place is gorgeous, and it’s right on the river at Greenwoods.

So much depends on a pair of tan waders, glazed with river water beside the white door.

Put the Limestone in the Coconut (with apologies to Harry Nilsson)

Oct29

Doctor, ain’t there nothing I could take to relieve this fishing ache? Yup. Accept an invitation from Dean Keister to join him at the lovely Limestone Trout Club in East Canaan, CT, and you’ll be in fine fettle, Steve. As the brochure copy reads, Limestone offers fly fishing in a scenic 94-acre parcel, featuring six unique ponds (old limestone quarries).

There’s something about fishing within a gated area that makes you feel suitably impressed with yourself (even if you’re just a guest). But there’s not a whiff of snootiness at Limestone. Everyone is so kind and welcoming.

So. Fishing at Limestone is like fishing in a natural aquarium. Squadrons of trout cruise past your feet, oblivious to your offerings. Every so often the water erupts with the mighty crash of a trout chasing a caddis or whacking a bug. The fish are impressive, to say the least — not only long (over 20″ is not rare) but also fat. It’s cool and and it’s beautiful, and I want to go back.

I had a quality take at a size 16 beetle, and several delicate rises to a size 20 archival English midge pattern (Smut #1, black wool body with a white soft-hackle), but sadly, no hookups for me that day. Refusals came early and often. I tried streamers, and witnessed many follows, and felt a few bumps, but again no hook sets.

Thanks so much for the invite, Dean, and to all you Limestone trout: I know where you live.

I think this gentlemen’s name is Bill McDougall — we shared the same pond and had numerous fish interested in the small black flies we presented on the surface. This trout slammed Bill’s tiny black caddis like it was a mouse pattern. What a gorgeous fall day!

A Back-Country Brookie Adventure

Oct19

Due to the prolonged drought, I have been keeping my distance from my precious small streams. But, my patience extends only so far. So with the recent cooler weather, I decided to head out. As expected, the water was low, clear, and cold. I find that in lower flows, topwater flies are the best producers. Of course, you can find subsurface action in the deeper plunge pools, but the vast majority of my action came on dries: Elk Hair Caddis, Improved Sofa Pillow, Ausable Bombers, etc.

I pricked dozens and landed quite a few. Most of the fish were smaller (<5″) but there were a few more substantial char in the mix. Even though the summer was dry and hot, nature finds a way. In one small, glassy pool I call “The Incubator,” I witnessed a burgeoning population of young-of-year brook trout. My guess is that thousands of generations have come of age there — something wondrous to ponder while you’re sitting streamside blowing smoke rings from your Aging Room corona gorda.

Some days I’m in full camera geek mode, actively seeking out shots. Other days, like this one, I’m far less motivated. Still, when incidental magic occurs, you take advantage. I had just squatted down into position at the head of a run when I looked down at the rock at my feet. From the chaos of falling leaves comes order. Have a nice day.

One of the best fish of the day, probably 7″-8″, about to make a dash for the depths. He took an Ausable Bomber.

Dark char. I am fascinated by how brookies change colors to match their surroundings. On one limestone stream I fish, the fish have a lighter background cast to their flanks. This guy came from a deeply shaded pool. His head is almost black.

Paul was out hiking and shooting, and asked if I wouldn’t mind posing for him. I found fish on the dry from the head of the plunge to the submerged rock halfway down the run. Surprisingly nothing subsurface. It’s a gorgeous shot, even if the model doesn’t quite reach the level of the beauty of his surroundings.

Farmington River Report: still low and slow

Oct2

Dave took my Wet Flies 101 class today in the form of a private lesson. We fished two runs in the permanent TMA (170 cfs) and then we bounced around above Riverton (110cfs). The TMA was a blank, but we found some fish willing to jump on after we headed north.

Dave did a great job moving around in an effort to find fish (something I can’t emphasize enough when wet fly fishing). We brought a gorgeous wild brookie to net, and played tug-of-war with something more substantial that decided to skedaddle before we could land it.

What great day to be fishing as we had vast stretches of water all to ourselves.

Heads up! Incoming char.

Dave covering water with his team of three wets.

Farmington River Report: A little bit of this, a little bit of that

Sep25

Since I couldn’t make up my mind yesterday whether to stay home and work or go fishing, I decided to do both. Fishing first. A man must, after all, set his priorities.

The first hour I did a little exploring on the lower river. This was a section I’d never fished before. It was either impressively deep or painfully shallow. Lots of holes and oxygenated riffles and other things trout like. I’m filing this spot away for future reference.

In the course of my travels, I came across old friend BRK TRT. Alan was casting to some delicate risers in some slow-moving water. We chatted about small streams for a bit (if you haven’t, check out Alan’s site Smallstreamreflections), then I went off to swing some streamers and do a little nymphing. The sun was warm. The air crisp. The river cool.

It most definitely did not suck.

A recent ward of the state that found an olive Zoo Cougar (fished with a floating line and a BB shot at the head of the fly) to his liking. Not bad for a hatchery brown. His spots almost look airbrushed.