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.
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!
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 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.
It’s a Squirmy Worm. It’s a jig nymph. It’s a shameful fly. It’s all of the above, and I love it.
This fly comes from Toby Lapinski — who first showed it to me on a small stream outing in December. The brookies went nuts for it. Toby tells me he riffed off similar patterns, added a collar for added contrast, et voila! You have this horrible wonderfulness. I’m going to try jigging this with a soft hackle dropper above it on some small streams this spring. I would also think this pattern will drive steelhead out of their tiny minds.
This is a simple tie. You need a jig hook (12-14), chartreuse tungsten bead (1/8″), pink worm material (Toby uses Hareline Caster’s Squirmito) and some black peacock Ice Dub.
I’ve been doing a little housekeeping on currentseams. The biggest visual change is the menu bar. If you’re on a laptop, you’ll see an expanded menu, shown below, that directly links to pages with essential information. If you’re on a phone, you’ll still have a drop-down menu, albeit a newly expanded one. My hope is that this makes everyone’s life easier.
“About” replaces “About Steve Culton — and Currentseams.” “Guide Trips/Lessons” replaces “Book a guide trip.” I’ve added “Book A Presentation” and “Contact.” “About” retains virtually the same content. Ditto “Guide Trips/Lessons,” which has updated rates; I’m hoping to add a one-page/one-side pdf checklist with basic information that clients can download. The “Book A Presentation” content has been reordered and partially re-written; I’m also hoping to add some more presentations before this fall. As always, I stand ready to help and answer questions.
Yesterday afternoon I dumped all the entries into a bucket and had my independent panel of one randomly select three winners: Steve M, Zach G, and Glenn D. Congratulations! The winners have already been notified by email. Now, to the vise…
I’d like to thank everyone who entered, and everyone who reads and follows currentseams. I see we’re only 65 people away from 1,000…so get a friend to subscribe and we’ll be doing this again soon!
Could be some small saltwater baitfish in someone’s future. These flies were part of a suspension rig I used this past fall. As always, droppers are the fastest way to find out what the fish want.
Thursday night was the world premier of director Matthew Vinick’s film, Summer on the Farmington. The venue was Brewery Legitimus in New Hartford. Good choice! They had a large private room reserved for the event, with a dedicated bar, plenty of seating, room to socialize, and a food truck outside for people like me who get cranky if they don’t eat. (I had two delicious chicken tacos for 12 bucks.) The beer was likewise yummy; I thoroughly enjoyed my Dr. Strangehaze NE Style IPA.
We (I was accompanied by my beautiful wife) arrived early so we could socialize. How wonderful to see so many old friends, and to be able to enjoy being out for an evening of entertainment. Thanks again to everyone who took the time to say hello — I often forget names, but I recognize the faces and it’s a pleasure to get reacquainted.
Almost showtime. There was a palpable sense of anticipation in the audience before the film. Those are dry fly legends Drew and Don Butler in the third row, third from right and far right, respectively. Between them, Don and Drew have somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 consecutive months of catching a trout on a dry fly on the Farmington. You could learn a lot from those two, which is why I pick their brains every chance I get.
To the film. There’s a certain challenge to being unbiased when you’re judging a creative product that you were a part of. But, viewing a work of art is an inherently emotional experience, so I suppose I’m allowed to think and feel what I think and feel. And I thought and felt that Matthew’s film met — and exceeded — my expectations.
The film remains true to its title as it follows several Farmington River guides and anglers from the first day of summer through the last as they fish the river with dry flies. The footage is outstanding, from sweeping aerials to mayflies dancing on the surface to subsurface shots of trout feeding (worth the price of admission alone — props to Director of Photography John Kozmaczewski). But it’s not all just dry fly fishing. You get segments on the genesis of the tailwater, the creation of Trout Management Areas, the Survivor Strain Program, and more. Vinick has clearly done this homework, drawing on a rich assortment of knowledgeable sources, from DEEP staff to fly fishing store owners/managers. I heard more than one appreciative comment on the crisp pace and excellence of the editing.
Lo and behold, there I was, leading off the film. Our shooting day was a challenge; I learned later from cast and crew that my day was, by far, the worst in terms of actively feeding fish. In hindsight, I like that. If life isn’t fair, fly fishing certainly isn’t, particularly on this river. You get what you get and you don’t get upset. Matthew tended to use my interview bits as lead-ins to new subjects, and I liked that, too. Any time you see yourself on camera or hear yourself speaking, I think the tendency is to be overly self-critical, but I was very pleased with how the director used me in his story.
While the juiciest bits of the film are the action sequences, Vinick does an exceptional job of showing the fishing experience in its entirety, warts-and-all. You see the refusals. You see the swings and misses. You see the LDRs. Best of all, you get to see the tragicomic reactions when things don’t go according to plan, which tends to happen a lot in fishing. (Overhead, whispered by a nearby audience member during the film: “See, those are professional guides, and they miss fish too!”) Yup. We all put our waders on one leg at a time. And of course, you get to see the triumphs. There are some beautiful fish in the Farmington. Thanks to them for playing.
Farmington River guides in triplicate. That’s Mark Swenson surrounded by Steves (Hogan on the left); all of us appear in the film. Vinick uses the frenemy banter between Swenson and fellow guide Antoine Bissieux throughout the film, whether they’re gearing up, fishing, or hanging out at UpCountry Sportfishing. If you’ve ever spent any time around them, you know they’re not acting. Hilarity ensues!
Many of you will be wondering about future plans for Summer on the Farmington. Here’s what I can tell you. It will probably have another showing , time and place TBD. It may go to DVD or be streamed, but I have no further details. I wish I had better information to share, but when I find out more I’ll let you know.
All good things must come to an end, and so it was with the premier screening of Summer on the Farmington. The film was shown in two segments with a brief intermission, and when it was over we all rose and applauded. This is your humble scribe with director Matthew Vinick. Many thanks to Matthew and his crew, DP John Kozmaczewski, and applause to those who appeared on-screen to tell the story: Steve Hogan, Mark Swenson, Antoine Bissieux, Torrey Collins, Don and Drew Butler, Brian Eltz, Dave Goulet…and to anyone else I missed mentioning. And of course, here’s to the river. We are blessed to have such a wonderful resource. Well done, all!
I hadn’t yet gone fishing this year, and Tuesday was going to be the day. I’d already made the decision to make it a small stream. But as I was checking emails and other social media that morning, I was shocked to learn that Alan Petrucci had passed away.
You may have known Alan from his license plate, BRK TRT. Or perhaps you’ve enjoyed his blog, Small Stream Reflections, or have seen him elsewhere online (he was a currentseams follower and made frequent comments on my small stream posts). Perhaps you were lucky enough to have fished with him. For me, there was a certain sort of symmetry in fishing a small stream; it would be the perfect way to honor Alan and work through the sorrow. Especially since I’d planned to fish a stream that we’d discussed dozens of times over the years. Yes. Today, I would go fishing with BRK TRT.
It was always easy to determine if Alan was fishing nearby. I took this photo along the Farmington River one fall many years ago.
I should make it clear that Alan and I weren’t fishing buddies. We didn’t hang out. Our common ground was a passion for small streams and wild brook trout. I first met him — albeit digitally — when he was a member of the now defunct Flyaddict Forums. We quickly established a rapport, and corresponded via email and the phone over the years to discuss all things thin blue lines. We even traded flies at one point. I still have some of his in my small stream box.
The trip started poorly. I forgot my yellow polaroid glasses, and on my walk back to my Jeep to get my spare pair, I tripped in the woods and bashed my knee against a rock. (When stuff like this happens, I’m always tempted to ask, “What else can go wrong?” But I usually don’t, mostly because I don’t want to know the answer.) There was still snow on the ground in this neck of the woods, not to mention a decent amount of ice clinging to rocks and other obstructions. The sky was overcast, about 44 degrees, and I was happy I brought my fingerless gloves.
Despite the lengthening daylight and warmer temps, winter still has a firm grasp on the brook.
I’d already decided that the outing wouldn’t be about catching fish, and not just because February is a tough month on a small stream. I figured I’d selectively use the dry/dropper (in this case the dropper was a size 18 Frenchie variant), then try jigging and bottom bouncing a small ICU Sculpin in the deeper runs and plunges. I wasn’t happy about the depth I was getting, so I added a BB shot to the leader about 10 inches from the fly. That seemed to work; as soon as I made the adjustment, I felt a sharp tug as I was drifting through a boiling plunge. Given the demonstrative hit, I was surprised there was no hook set.
I also spent some time paying attention to the the little changes the stream had gone through over the winter. Brooks like this one are constantly evolving; channels shift, trees fall in, obstructions washed into the system create natural dams, and so on. I also took the time to remove deadfall that served no purpose other than to mess up my drifts. My general rule of thumb is: If it’s alive, it doesn’t get touched. If it’s dead and is small and provides no cover/creates no significant current break/is not being used by a living creature, it can go.
And of course, I was there to fish with Alan. I’m not embarrassed to tell you I had more than one discussion with him, aloud. It felt good to be out in the woods and fishing and talking to him.
I blanked the entire length of the stream until the last pool. I’d gone back to the dry/dropper, and while it was chugging through a spirited run, the dry disappeared. The char wasn’t big, nor was it noteworthy for its colors, but I felt like this was a gift from Alan. I accepted it fully and eagerly, a proper ending to this solemn day.
But it’s funny, sometimes, how these things turn out. Because I suddenly decided to fish a stretch of the brook that I hadn’t fished in at least a decade. It was less than a five minute drive, so I kept my waders on. Since I was running out of time, I made another decision to double-time it to a section with easier access. I’m really unfamiliar with this stretch, but I thought I’d give the dry/dropper a sail through some of the deeper runs. I chose a pool with a very sexy cut bank beneath a leaning tree. It’s the kind of mark that just screams “fish here,” and yet how many times do you find no one home? The first drift was a blank. Ditto the second. On the third, the dry disappeared.
Right away I could tell it was a good fish. If it were the Farmington River I’d consider it a smaller trout, but on this stream it was a giant. I desperately wanted to land it, because I felt like this was the fish I was supposed to get, and somehow Alan was involved, and I didn’t want to let him down. Just as I’m lifting the fish toward the net, my rod tip and line got tangled in some branches. Really? The fishing gods can be so cruel. But in the end, the char was netted. Funny thing! It was the biggest brookie, by far, that I’ve ever caught on this stream.
Thank you, Alan. And so long, old friend. Tight lines on thin blue lines forever.
I didn’t measure it, but this was easily double-digit inches, a monster for a brook you can leap across. I was struck — as I often am — by the blue halos and the vibrant contrast of the spotting. What do you think, BRK TRT?
I’m hoping you’ll join me at Brewery Legitimus in New Hartford for the premier of Director Matthew Vinick’s film, “Summer on the Farmington.” Doors open at 6pm, film rolls at 7pm (that’s this Thursday, February 24). You can’t get tickets at the door — it’s advance sales only online through the FRAA. I’m looking forward to sitting back, relaxing, and viewing while enjoying a tasty craft brew. If you’re there, please say hello.
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