No, you’re not seeing things. Yes, there is water again in the PTMA and even in Unionville. Last Monday, the upper Farmington River, its reservoirs, and watershed in southern MA got deluged, with some areas receiving inches of rain. Now that the Colebrook Reservoir is at 100% capacity, the Army Corps of Engineers has instructed the MDC to dump water and reduce the level. That’s why the gauge looks like this:
While this is better than the paltry 60cfs MDC was releasing, it’s a perfect illustration of how poorly this resource is managed. Instead of dumping 340 extra cfs of water en masse, why couldn’t the flows have been set to 150cfs for weeks? Better yet, how about the historical median flow? You know what’s going to happen next: the flows will go back to a trickle, and we’ll have the Farmington Rock Garden River. Again. There is no word on when those flows will be cut, but it is surely coming. So get out and enjoy the water while you can.
I’m still waiting to get you some better information on how this will all shake out, and what can be done about it. There are forces at work for better stewardship of the river. Stay tuned.
I was both humbled and honored to have the opportunity to guide three groups from Project Healing Waters. Over the course of two days, we fished, learned, talked, and just plain enjoyed being out on the water. On Tuesday afternoon, I did a streamside classroom for everybody, Wet Flies 101. OK, to be technical, it was at a picnic table at their campsite, but you could hear the river, so that counts for something.
This was the day after those torrential rains, so I gave the first group the option of streamers below the Still River or wet flies above Riverton. Option B was the choice, and off we went. That section was, not surprisingly, loaded with anglers. (Many thanks to those who shared the water both days and were so giving once they learned who we were and what we were doing. True, small kindness is vastly underrated.) The water was bracingly cold, and we had between 70-80cfs of flow to work with — not great, but doable. We found a few fish willing to jump on, but as I heard from the guys multiple times, it really isn’t about putting fish in the hoop. And in this case, they’re mighty right.
Not a bad day at the office! Time flies when you’re having fun, and on both days I frequently lost track of time.
For Wednesday AM, we stuck close to home, fishing water adjacent to the campground. The river had come down a bit, and cleared some, but we still had the challenge of mid-day summer fishing. Nonetheless, by covering water as best we could, we found a few feeding fish. The warmth of the sun on our shoulders and the cool of the river at our feet reminded us that were in a really good place. I had the group fishing a two-fly wet fly team, a fine compromise when not everyone is a great caster. Hatch activity on both days was minimal, and with the recent down and then up flows, I’m sure the insects were as discombobulated as we were.
We finished up Wednesday above the Still River in some gorgeous dry fly water. So, naturally, I suggested we fish dries. I rigged everyone up with a long leader system — minimum 13 feet — and we had at it. What a fantastic job this group did in some fairly technical water. While the trout were feeding — somewhat irregularly on emergers, but mostly spinners, the hatch (sulphurs size 14-16) wasn’t going to break any records for volume. But we stuck with it, and before too long, my man Guppy connected with a nice rainbow on a size 20 Usual.
I’d just seen a trout nail a skittering sulphur on top, so when Guppy’s fly began to drag at drift’s end, I told him to let it be. Moments later, whack! How exhilarating when it all works out just like you drew it up in your mind.
I stayed to fish after our session, but the evening rise never materialized in any big way. There were far more emergers and duns in the late afternoon than in the evening, and no spinner fall to speak of. I managed to stick three trout in about two hours. When I climbed out of the river at 9pm, my legs felt like cold, semi-unresponsive lumps. I was shivering. The fishing had been disappointing. But it hadn’t rained. It hadn’t stormed. And I realized that just being there did indeed count for something.
Last week I mentioned that I was testing a “new” Isonychia wet fly. (I placed the word in parentheses, because so much of modern fly tying is derivative, riffing off countless other patterns that came before. Not that that’s a bad thing! Rock ‘n’ rollers and jazz hepcats have been doing the same for decades.) Of course, I didn’t expect that mention to go unnoticed; in fact, I received multiple requests for more details.
But to quote Don Vito Corleone, my answer is no…and I will give you my reasons.
For me, a new fly pattern is a multi-faceted process. I start with the creative spark, and determining the need for a new pattern. That need can be as simple as, “I want my own fly,” or that I just don’t like what others have done before me. Then, I go the vise and build prototypes. Next comes testing. I may refine the fly and make small or large changes, depending on the pattern. The most important part is the conclusion. Does this fly work? Do I enjoy fishing it? And most of all, do the fish eat it?
All of this can take weeks, and usually months or years.
So, my apologies. No new Isonychia pattern for you…yet. I can share with you that so far it looks like a winner. Once it gets the seal of approval, you’ll all be the first to know. Not to drive anyone further bonkers, but I’ve also got a LaFontaine-inspired version of the Squirrel and Ginger in the works, and the early results are also very favorable. Plus that Henry’s Fork cripple (not a new pattern, and not mine, but worthy of inclusion in your box). It’s a crazy few weeks so I beg your pardon and ask for patience. Remember the sage words of Hannibal to Clarice…
On Thursday I guided Michael and Al from 2pm-6pm. My original plan was to explore some of the faster water in the PTMA, but an accident closed part of Rt. 44. So we decided to seek our pleasure downriver.
The stretch of water between Collinsville and Unionville is starting to warm up, but it’s still within an acceptable temperature range for trout (at least it was on Thursday). Depending on where you fish — i.e. below a long, pond-like stretch — you may find warmer water temperatures than in faster, deeper runs. Unless we get rain and a flow bump, the first real heat wave will torch this stretch. (Thanks, MDC, for your outstanding stewardship of the river, and genuine concern for preserving the resource…he said, dripping with sarcasm.)
We started in a run where I’d had some recent success, and while the action wasn’t hot and heavy, there were a few active fish to play with. We got into a mix of rainbows and juvenile Atlantic salmon, and it was gratifying to see two new wet fly anglers experience the thrill of the tug on a soft-hackled fly.
Al struck first, connecting with this lovely rainbow. How wonderful it is when theory is put into practice, and the trout do the rest of the heavy lifting. Both anglers did a great job, and enthusiastically embraced fishing under the hatch with wet flies.Same fish, heading for home. Most of our action came on creamy sulphury mayfly soft hackles and wingless wets.Does this guy look like he’s having fun? Al had to leave, so Michael and I walked a boulder field, picking pockets with wet flies. Today’s lesson is: When the water is low, look for the fastest, deepest water you can find, and cover every pocket, slot, and seam. By using this method, Michael found multiple trout willing to jump on. I loved his enthusiasm.
I finished the day fishing upriver. I swung wets from 7pm to around 7:30, and I managed three hookups in faster water, sadly losing a pig of wild brown when he wrapped the leader around a boulder. I’m still stinging from that loss, as it would have been my biggest Farmington fish this year. The good news was that he took a new Isonychia soft hackle prototype…and I know where he lives. I spent the next hour stubbornly swinging wets amidst a sulphur hatch that really never got going. I had two half-hearted touches, so I wasn’t sorry when I made the decision to switch to dry. I got three more fish in the next half hour, the first on a size 20 Magic Fly, the last two on Classic Catskills Light Cahill dries, sz 14-12. Even though the water was low, I used 5x tippet as part of a long leader, about 14 feet total length.
Looks like some much-needed rain over the next few days.
Moriel took a wet fly lesson with me yesterday from 2pm-6pm, and we were faced with the lowest flows I’ve encountered this year (thanks, MDC!) We started off in the PTMA, running just under 100cfs. By covering some fast water, we were able to conjure up a few hits, putting one juvenile Atlantic salmon in the hoop. Off to mark number two, below the PTMA. That was a major disappointment: zero-point-zero touches, no bugs, maybe 3-4 total rises in an hour. All the while, I was telling Moriel that he was producing many, many fish-worthy drifts, and that if he kept it up, he would some day-some time have one of those sessions we all dream about.
Two outs, bottom of the ninth found us way downstream. And just like that, trout began to materialize on our three fly team. We took them on a prototype Squirrel-Ginger-Sparkle diving caddis and our creamy mayflies. A gorgeous wild brown, stocked brook trout, grievously bird-wounded rainbow, and all of a sudden, our slow day turns into the grand salami. Today’s lesson: when the bite is slow, move around, cover water, and find the fish. Great job Moriel, and you excelled at letting the fish set the hook.
Tight lines and bent rods are a beautiful thing. A fine way to baptize a new stick. Well done, Moriel!
I decided to stay and fish the evening rise. When I arrived at 7pm, precious little was happening. I saw the first sulphur emerge at 7:10pm, but things really didn’t get going until 8:30pm. This mark had some faster water that held trout feeding on emergers and spinners; below me was a quasi-frog water stretch with very little current, and there the trout were smutting. The fish in the faster water were maddening; they’d go on a feed in one section, then stop. It would pick up in a completely different section, then stop. I never really got a handle on those fish, sticking two and dropping one in 90 minutes. I hooked and landed three more in the last half hour on classic Catskills-style Light Cahills, size 12-14. The last one came when I could no longersee the fly, so I used the bucket method of strike detection. It was my best fish of the evening, a 15″ rainbow who’s been eating well.
Currentseams now has over 1,000 official subscribers — and it’s all your fault. Really, I can’t thank all of you enough for your interest, your readership, your passion, your enthusiasm, your comments, and especially for your kind, giving nature. I like very much what this site has become, and that’s in a large part due to your participation. Yeah, I wish I had more tying videos. Yeah, I wish I had more essays and articles. Yeah, I need to update some stuff (like my wet fly team diagram). But that’s something to aspire to.
Of course, we’ll have a drawing to celebrate. But not right now. Summer is upon us, and we’ve all got cookouts to attend, vacations to go on, and fish to catch. My plan is for something later in summer. Of course, as a subscriber you’ll see it first here. In the meantime, if you’re not a subscriber — ten lashed with a cane rod — now’s a great time to sign up. Be sure to follow me on Instagram @stevecultonflyfishing, too. Again, thank you, thank you, thank you!
It’s as easy as that. (Sorry, this isn’t a live link. The real one is off to the side or the top or the bottom, depending on your device.) Who’s going to be 1,012?
I fished for pleasure Wednesday evening, timing it so that I arrived at the mark on the lower river just as the thunderstorms were ending. There were a few small branches littering the roadway, but the water was surprisingly clear and free of debris. As I’d guessed would happen, I beat everyone else to the water and was able to secure some prime real estate. The river was quiet as I entered at 6pm, but the surface soon became dimpled by the tells of feeding fish.
This particular mark appeals to me because it’s a mix of moving runs and seams, eddying pockets, and a glassy pool bordering frog water. All of these places hold trout, and you’ve got to tailor your presentation, leader & tippet, and fly selection to meet the needs of each. Oh, and it all shifts and changes as daylight fades. It’s a difficult mark to get right, but when you figure it out, the rewards are great.
A healthy mid-teens Farmington brown taken on Mike Lawson’s Mayfly Cripple.
Wednesday night’s hatch window was textbook early summer. I had trout sipping spinners until dark, and I had trout slashing at emergers from 7:30pm until 8:45pm. I took fish on five different flies: Usual size 20, Magic Fly size 16 &18, Sulphur spinner size 20, classic Catskills Light Cahill size 12 & 14; and a new pattern I’d never fished before, Mike Lawson’s Mayfly Cripple in sulphur colors, size 16. I’ve never really gotten into the whole cripple thing, and the two times I’d fished this fly this year, the trout have largely ignored it. Not on this night. I stuck three good fish on it, and now it’s in my top rotation. The pattern is basically a Pheasant Tail bottom half with a sulphur dry top half that includes a thorax, hackle, and synthetic wing. (I’ll give you a pic and recipe soon.)
Say howdy to Mister White-Gloved. Iso time is a good time for all. This time of year, if you hear a take that sounds like someone threw a bowling ball into the river, chance are it was a trout feeding on Isonychia. Try a Hackled March Brown wet on point.
On Thursday I gave Brett a wet fly lesson. What a difference a day makes! We got a late start, so our window was 3:45-7:45, which should have meant a ton of bugs and visibly feeding fish. The bugs barely materialized; we saw a few sulphur, some tan caddis, and a couple Isos. Rises were few and far between, and none of the fish was in a regular feeding rhythm. Nonetheless, Brett slayed ’em. We stuck four at the first mark and I don’t know how many at the second — we easily put a double digits in the hoop. They ate every fly on the team (top dropper, Magic Fly size 14; middle dropper, new Squirrel and Ginger diving caddis prototype size 14; point fly tailed Partridge and Light Cahill size 14). We experienced a sequence where four consecutive fish took the diving caddis. More and more, I’m seeing evidence that this is a critical component of the three fly team. Brett did a fantastic job with his presentations and hook sets. If I were the trout, I’d be concerned.
I often hear apocryphal, unsubstantiated reports of wild rainbows on the Farmington River. So when Brett landed this fish, my curiosity was off the charts. Vivid coloration, unique spotting, minimal scale damage, parr marks…could it be?Could be…but isn’t. A closer look at the tail reveals a structure far too short and stubby for a wild fish. The anal fin also reveals the kind of shredding you’d find from repeated scraping against the bottom of a tank. Still, a striking creature.
Back in the lonesome, isolated days of the pandemic, I mentioned that I’d never read Gary LaFontaine’s masterwork, Caddisflies. Currentseams subscriber Mayson Neel would have none of that. So he found a used hardcover copy of Caddisflies in fantastic condition (the book is out of print) and had it shipped to me. I started reading it, was intrigued, but like so many other projects, finishing it just fell by the wayside.
Cut to this winter, where I cracked it open, found my trusty yellow highlighter, and started anew. I’m happy I did, because I can tell you that what I’ve learned has resulted in dozens of trout caught, for both me and my clients.
I have so much to share about Caddisflies — I really can’t believe I ignored this book for so long — but I’d like to start with LaFontaine’s Diving Caddis wet fly. The female of many caddis species dive to the streamed to lay their eggs, encased in a gleaming bubble. LaFontaine writes, “Both the brightness and the action of the diving female are enough to make a wet fly imitation necessary…(the fly’s) pure Antron filaments, hanging free over the back, reflect more light.” He goes on to list four primary patterns, plus eleven secondary ones. I was dumbfounded to see that there isn’t a tan caddis pattern in the group; the closest we get is a tan/pale green version. So I made up my own tan diving caddis variant:
LaFontaine Tan Diving Caddis (Steve Culton variant)Hook: Standard wet fly size 14-20; Thread: Tan UNI 6/0; Body: Tan Caddis LifeCycle dubbing, small gold wire rib; Underwing: brown partridge feather fibers; Overwing: 20-30 tan sparkle yarn filaments; Hackle: One turn brown rooster hackle
Tying notes: LaFontaine specified the Mustard 7957-B hook; I went with my standard issue heavy wet fly hook, the TMC 3769, size 14. He doesn’t include a rib, but I like the segmented look it creates. While he specifies Sparkle yarn for the body, the LifeCycle dubbing makes a fine stand-in with its blend of natural and synthetic fibers. I plan on trying a few without the rib, and using the sparkle yarn, chopped up, to create a rougher, buggier body. I found it curious that he chose stiff rooster hackle, but LaFontaine explains that the fibers “Stand out from the body and add vibrancy to the moving wet fly.” Many of the photos I’ve seen of other ties feature a collar using several turns of hackle, but LaFontaine is adamant that the collar be kept sparse.
Although I’ve only been fishing this fly for a month, I’ve had several outings where it was the only fly on the team of three that was getting eaten…or the fish chose it by a wide margin over the other patterns.
Spoiled, selfish children have a habit of poor behavior when the game isn’t going their way. Their frustration reaches a boiling point. Then they grab their ball and storm off in a petulant frenzy. The result is that the game is over and ruined for everyone. The spoiled child in this case is the person (or people) in charge of making the flow decisions for the West Branch of the Farmington River. And once again, they’ve decided that if they’re miserable, everyone who uses the river for recreation should be miserable.
For years, it’s been no secret that the MDC doesn’t care about managing the West Branch as a viable tailwater fishery and recreational resource. For over a year now, their unconscionably selfish reaction to not wanting any further financial responsibility for Hogback Dam has been to release only the minimum flow as-required-by-law. Anglers be damned. Canoeists, kayakers and tubers be damned. Business who depend on robust river flows be damned. Fish and wildlife be damned. It’s their ball, and they’re taking it away in the name of corporate greed.
What’s wrong with this picture? As the flow drops like a stone toward the bare minimum — and let’s note that the reservoir is nearly full — you can see that the dicks at the MDC are releasing nearly 200cfs less than they normally do. Score one for corporate weasels!
If it’s all too confusing, this one-page, one-side sheet explains the legal flow requirements for both Colebrook and Goodwin dams. We thank the Farmington River Watershed Association for providing it. And we damn the MDC for reducing flows and damaging our river, simply because they can.
In the meantime, we can only hope for rain up north, which would require the MDC to release more water — and more rain locally, which would bump up the Still River.
You haven’t heard from me this week because I’ve been busy. Some family stuff, some business stuff, and, oh, by the way, fly fishing the Farmington River. I fished Monday late afternoon into dark; Tuesday 7pm-dark; and yesterday I guided Max in the afternoon, then finished off the day all by myself till dark. Rather than divy the days up, I’ll give you some hard data to digest. But first, yesterday’s session with Max.
Max wanted to learn the ancient and traditional art of wet flies, and after several years of missed connections, we finally made it happen. It was worth the wait, as conditions were nearly ideal for wet fly: 165cfs in the PTMA and 247cfs downriver, water running clear and cold and plenty of bugs. We started off in the PTMA, and sulphurs were the story. We spent the first hour doing a streamside classroom, then entered the water around 3pm. In the space of an hour we stuck six fish. Like many anglers new to swinging wets, Max found the hook-setting process a challenge — you’ve got to wait before you set and let the fish do most of the work. We moved downstream below the PTMA and once Max found his “are-you-still-there?” equilibrium it was lights out. We stuck a bunch more, and Max did a great job of getting his flies over feeding fish and managing his drifts. Well done!
Not the river’s prettiest rainbow, but a good fish nonetheless. She actually went 15″ and gave us a proper display of mykiss obstreperousness. She was feeding in about 18″ of moving water; we saw the rise, and Max delivered a perfect strike over her lie. Three of the last four fish we connected with, including this one, took a size 14 tan LaFontaine Diving Caddis. (Droppers are the fastest way to find out what the fish want.) Be advised, trout, there’s another wet fly flinging fish-catching machine in the making.
Now to my observations. This is a wonderful time to be fishing the Farmington. You’ve got actively feeding fish and bugs from daylight to dark. Witnessed: sulphurs, tan caddis, dark grey caddis, March Browns, Isonychia (well below the PTMA) midges, BWOs. All three days saw a prodigious number of sulphurs on the water and in the air from late afternoon to about 8pm.
The lower water and cooler temps aren’t hurting the wet fly fishing; but you’ve got to pick and choose your locations. Any wet fly success I witnessed and experienced came in broken water 1-3 feet deep that was moving at a brisk walking pace. Slower, languid water, even when loaded with active feeders, proved unproductive. The trout in the slower water seemed to be be keyed on spinners (present even in the late afternoon) and I had only a few half-hearted tugs to show for my wet fly efforts. Faster water was money, even when there were no visibly feeding fish.
Surfcaster Extraordinaire Toby Lapinski scored this 20+” wild brown on a Light Cahill soft hackle in — you guessed it — faster water. A lovely fish, and nice pecs! It was one of two large browns he picked up on Tuesday swinging wet flies.
Finally, the evening dry fly bite was been vexing me (says the guy who was featured in a movie about dry fly fishing on the Farmington). We all put our waders on one leg at a time, folks, and I’m your proof. Monday, it was a lot of bad luck: I had about a dozen swings and misses by the trout, connecting with and landing only three. Tuesday, I hooked and landed a trout on my first dry fly cast; it was all downhill after that. The slot I was fishing was far less populated with rising fish than the night before; there were more swings and misses, and I only stuck one more fish into dark. Then a wind and rain squall blew in and stopped the feeding dead in its tracks.
And for dessert, we have…
Last night, I had the place all to myself…and about 400,000 size 16 Sulphur duns and spinners that littered the surface of the run I was fishing. My target drift lane bordered frog water and classic glassy dry water. The fish seemed to move at will from sipping spinners to slashing at emergers, and sometimes doing both. Duns were everywhere on the water and were largely ignored. With so much food in the water, I again had trouble buying a strike, let alone trying to figure out what they wanted. In 90 minutes I was able to hook and land two trout, one on a size 16 Magic Fly fished dry and the other on a size 14 Light Cahill. At 8:45pm, the feed went from an 11 to 1-and-done. I think the cold weather has changed the usual pattern of feeding long after you can see your fly.
Get out there, folks. It’s really, really good, even when it seems like it isn’t.
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