I know, I know, it’s July. It’s hot and the sun is shining and even though your favorite river may be blown out, we’re all still thinking about — if not actually doing — fly fishing. Since it’s never too early to plan, mark your calendars for the 2024 Fly Fishing Show in Marlborough and Edison. Note the new time frame for Marlborough — it’s earlier in the month than usual. I don’t have a schedule yet, but assume I’ll be doing talks and classes and demos as usual. I’ll likely be in Marlborough all three days and in Edison Friday & Saturday. Hope to see you there!
I feel like my current fishing world can be best summed up by Ray Davies, who wrote, “The news was so bad that I fell out of bed.”
The fishing on Block was soul-crushingly bad. This is the third straight down year, and I felt lucky to have landed five stripers in seven nights. (Yes, you read that correctly.) Four skunks in the mix. (Really?) My biggest fish was 22″, bringing my streak of not landing a keeper or better to three years. How far that shore fishery has fallen!
Back on the home front, Mother Nature and the MDC are wreaking havoc upon the Farmington River. A couple days from now is my traditional date to go fish the dorothea at a favorite mark, but that’s obviously not going to happen. To add insult to injury, I’ve had to cancel both wet fly lessons scheduled for this week.
Normally, I’d console myself by heading to the Housatonic, but that river is also experiencing catastrophic water levels. No smallmouth for you! And no smallmouth for me, either. The white fly hatch will come and go, and none of us will be able to enjoy fishing it. Maybe the Hous will come down to a dry/wet fly fishable level in 2-3 weeks. That’s assuming we don’t get pounded by rain…again. This is now four consecutive alternating years of flood, then drought. It’s the new normal, and it sucks for all of us. What’s worse, it can’t be good for the ecosystem. Would a happy medium be too much to ask? Perhaps the silver lining will be more trout holding over to this fall. We shall see.
Bloody hell! 5,500cfs is a long way from being even remotely fishable.
Finally, good reader, I must apologize for all this doom and gloom. I try to be a positive force, but I also feel compelled to tell it like it is. I suppose I could use this time to prep my fall striper box, or my winter nymph box, or even get a head start on some steelhead flies. Maybe some bluegills down at the pond on Elk Hair Caddis and a six-foot glass rod would cheer me up? Now there’s a thought…
It’s been a few years since I first published the Steve Culton’s Drowned Ant tying video, and with so many new subscribers — particularly those of you who have a keen interest in wet flies — this seemed like a good time to revisit the pattern. I like this as my middle dropper on summer team of three wets. To the vise!
Once again, I’ll be appearing as a celebrity tier at the 32nd International Fly Tying Symposium. That means in addition to having a tying table on the main floor, I’ll potentially be leading classes, teaching seminars, and appearing as a featured tier. I don’t have any details yet, other than to tell you that my contract is signed and in the mail. Once I find out more, I’ll let you know here.
Here’s what I do know: the IFTS is at the Doubletree by Hilton Somerset Hotel and Conference Center. The dates are Saturday, November 11 and Sunday, November 12, 2023. Last year’s show was a blast; you get vendors, tiers, and the chance to see some of the most talented people in fly tying do their thing. Classes are $80; seminars are included in the price of your ticket. Pen those dates in your calendar now!
If you woke up this morning and checked the Riverton gauge, you were greeted to the incredible sight of 1070cfs (now 1240cfs). This, of course, is due to the MDC, under the direction of the Army Corps of Engineers, needing to bleed water from an overfilled reservoir. We’ve been pounded with excessive rain in the last week, which is a good thing. Or is it?
It’s tricky. On the lemonade side, we have water volume just at the right time. 68cfs and an oppressive heat wave do not make a good mix for the survival of trout. From that perspective, this is a good thing. On the lemon side, we have an unusually high water dump that cannot be sustained. Those of us familiar with the total disregard the water gatekeepers have for the natural resource can easily imagine a sudden, catastrophic drop in water levels that will no doubt do damage to trout and invertebrates. The question must be asked: Could you not have released a steady 250cfs, the average release, for the entire month of June, with your already near-full reservoir, thereby avoiding this wasteful dump? (We’ll get to that answer in a moment.)
One thing is certain: a sustained 1K+ water dump is going to hemorrhage irreplaceable stores of cold water. In just one week, we’ve gained 5 degrees of released water temperature:
That sub-50 degree water isn’t coming back until we get some very cool fall nights. The reservoir simply cannot re-stratify in the heat of summer. It’s happened in recent years: the flow from the dam is robust, but it’s coming out at temperatures that are close or at the stressful threshhold for trout.
Never was this resource so ridiculously managed, and it’s all because of money. In what has to be one of the most absurd contracts in the history of water management, the MDC actually saves money by ignoring requests from downstream stakeholders for increased flow. At a recent meeting, the MDC head stated that they currently have no mechanism for releasing more water than the legal minimum or what the Army Corps orders for flood control. That’s not entirely true. They can release water called for for power generation downstream — and pay a fee of $1 million to do so — or ignore such requests and pay a fee of $250K. So MDC has decided to keep their $750K and screw everyone else who uses the river for recreation, screw the wildlife, and screw those of us who depend on the river for income.
To that last point: I should be on my way to the river right now to give a wet fly lesson, but I’m not. I had to cancel. So, I’m out a guide fee today. It’s not that big a deal to me. Because unlike the MDC, I’m not completely beholden to profit.
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.com 