Tag Archives: stevecultonflyfishing

ASMFC Draft Addendum III to Amendment 7 For Dummies

About ten years ago, there was a phenomenon experienced by football fans known as “Patriots fatigue.” Always on TV, always the darling of analysts, hard to like, frequently winning in ways that defied mathematical probability or opposing coach logic (Super Bowl LI, anyone?).

I have ASMFC fatigue.

Another draft addendum, another public comment period, another chance for the rogue states of New Jersey, Maryland, and Delaware to behave stupidly, blah-blah-blah-blah-blah. (Insert heavy sigh here.)

If the bass closes its eyes, will it look like it’s yawning?

Nonetheless, we must do our duty and voice our opinion. The goal of all of this is to improve the SSB, or Spawing Stock Biomass. No SSB, no future stripers. Here are the two simple things you need to do. It’ll take you 15 minutes.

First, go to the ASGA website for the conservation-based opinion on what to comment. (Look for the heading “Proposed Management Options in Addendum III). Two, email your comments to the ASMFC. The following is from their website: “The public is encouraged to submit comments regarding the proposed management options in this document at any time during the addendum process. There are four ways to submit comments, written comments via this page or the comment@asmfc.org email below, the public comment form, mailed written comments, or attend a public hearing. The final date comments will be accepted is Friday, October 3 at 11:59 p.m. EST.“

 

Montana, Part II: The Kootenai Smudge

Unless you’re a setback player, you’re very likely puzzled by the author’s intriguing choice of a headline. For you non-card-types, a smudge is a bid where you declare that you will not only make all four points, but also win every trick (when each player reveals a card they’re holding). Smudges are rare, and if you’re lucky to make one, you get five points.

So, if catching three different species of fish is a hat trick and four is a grand slam, what’s a five different species? Pentachamacallit? So smudge it is. And on my second day of fishing the Kootenai (pronounced KOOT-en-ee by the locals), I scored a smudge.

This was a day that I fished solo, under the capable guidance of my guide Jeff from Dave Blackburn’s Kootenai Angler. We floated a different section of river, starting below the town of Libby. While the river is still wide and overhead-deep in many areas, there’s a lot more gravelly structure, pocket water, and whitewater pools. I far preferred it over the section we’d fished the day before. We did a little bit of everything: wet flies, dry-dropper, nymphing, streamers. It turned out to be a smudge-tastic day.

Let’s start with our new old buddy, the Kootenai Redband Rainbow trout. The ones I connected with — and they were plentiful — were generally under a foot long. Nonetheless, they were spunky and frantic when hooked, and I can’t even begin to describe their breathtakingly beautiful flanks adorned with delicate parr marks.
It’s a sucker! It’s a bonefish! No, wait. It’s a northern whitefish, native to these parts. Despite their appearance, whitefish are a salmonid. Every one I hooked was taken on a nymph. This was the biggest one by far, and she gave me a good tussle. Two down.
On this day, I hooked and landed my first cutthroat trout. Consider me a fan. Another native fish, these are beautifully colored and look like someone took a fine point black Sharpie to their sides as an exercise in minimalism. This fish was an epic eat. We were fishing western style, pounding the banks with a hopper-dropper, when we approached a grove of trees with overhanging branches that nearly touched the waterline. Naturally, the sweet spot of the run was beneath the branches. I made a cast, and began mending, dropping my rod tip nearly into the water so the floating line would clear the branches. Three…two…one…and whack! She ate the hopper right where we thought she’d be. That’s one take I wish I had on film.
A few minutes later, I asked Jeff what that green thing in the water was. As we got closer, we could see it was a hopper going for a swim. We fished him out of the water and put him on the oar to dry off. We were going to use him for a science experiment, but before we could send him on his way, he decided to go for another swim. I haven’t seen many hoppers in the water, but this was proof that it does happen — and the way this thing was struggling, it’s not surprising that they get eaten. My fourth species was a pikeminnow. Sadly, no photo. But before you laugh at the noun “minnow,” you should know that they grow over two feet long! Mine was about 18″. Pikeminnow are a member of the dace family.
If you look under the maxillary, you can see the reddish band that gives the cutthroat trout its name.
Ooh. Ahh. Ohh. To complete the smudge, I offer you the cutbow. As its name suggests, it’s a cross between a rainbow trout and a cutthroat trout, with characteristics of each. I was fortunate to be able to tangle with a half dozen of these gorgeous creatures. Is it time to go back to Montana yet?

Farmington River Report early September: a wet fly lesson, broodstock sampling, challenging conditions

I guided — we’ll call him “Bob” because he’s in incognito mode — last Thursday. We did a little dry fly and a lot of wet fly. The Farmington can be a highly technical dry fly arena, and sometimes it comes down a perfect drift and a little luck. But a good starting place is a long leader. I was happy to see that Bob was using a 13-foot minimum line-to-fly leader/tippet length. We added a couple more feet of 6x and had at it. Unfortunately, we missed the Trico spinner fall, but we did manage some practice, and by the time we made the decision to go to wets, Bobs drifts were noticeably better.

We spent the next six hours on classroom, then banging around the PTMA, as well as above and below it. Like many people who take a wet fly lesson with me, Bob had to learn to wait a few beats — “Are you still there?” — after the hit to let the trout hook itself. We missed a handful of strikes, but stuck four and landed three, which was pretty darned good under some tough conditions. Low water/seasonal hint: all of our hookup came in fast, bubbling water.

A lovely wild brown from the PTMA, taken by Bob on my Drowned Ant soft hackle. And on the first cast! At first, Bob thought he was hung up on a boulder. But boulders don’t shake their heads…

Which brings us to the conditions. We’re out of meteorological summer, and the water is running clear and low. Because of the drought, the trees are behaving like it’s fall, turning color and especially shedding leaves. On windy days from now until the trees are bare, expect organic matter to be blowing into the river. Leaves were a constant challenge for us on this gusty day. The trout and bugs are also in a transition. Most of what’s hatching is very small (there are exceptions, like Isonychia). The trout are getting into pre-spawn mode. This adds up to more frequent windows where fish are much harder to catch. Bob was the only angler I saw land a fish on Thursday, and we encountered multiple anglers who were astonished by our success. Well done, Bob!

But wait, there’s more. Normally, the slug of rain we received over the weekend would mix things up a bit. However, Tuesday through Thursday this week, the CT DEEP will be drawing down the dam release to do their annual broodstock sampling. You can still fish the river, but vast stretches will be rendered as rock gardens. If you do fish, please give the sampling crews a wide berth. Things should be back to normal by Friday.

However, that normal will still mean challenging fishing — which makes every trout you land even sweeter. Catch ’em up!

First week of September Potpourri: Speaking, Guiding, Book, Flows….

Just when you think you’re going to have more time to do writing…you don’t. I have to confess that I didn’t take into account that I would be this busy with non-fishing pursuits, but here we are. It’s mostly yard-home-garden-kitchen — ’tis the season for drying hot peppers, and making tomato and hot sauces — like the tides, ripe fruits wait for no one — and that’s the current situation. Still, I have much to talk about.

If you’re the person in charge of booking speakers for your fly fishing club, I have openings this fall and winter. You can find my presentation menu here. Be advised that when the Fly Fishing Guide to the Farmington River is published next year, I will want to come out and speak to your group about the book and the river. Something to look forward to!

I’m booked for the rest of the month with guide trips. Thanks to everyone who reached out! We are in rainfall deficit, so they’ve dropped the flow out of the Hogback gate to 165cfs. Note the release temperatures, and how they increase during the day (these readings are in Riverton, not at the gate). Be aware of water temps downstream. You should be OK through the PTMA, but carry and use your thermometer.

I’m supposed to get copy galleys for the book — this will be what the publisher has edited, in document form — mid-month. After I make comments, it goes back to them. It’s all very exciting. I’ll be locked away in my lonely writer’s garret that week, but if you see me on the river the other weeks, please say hello.

Next up will be the Montana trip, Part 2.

“Small Flies For Stripers” in the current issue (90) of Surfcaster’s Journal.

My latest and greatest (or at least moderately non-sucky) piece is now available for your reading pleasure. It boasts the clever title Small Flies for Striped Bass, or: Betcha the Bass Can’t Eat Just One. Like your favorite bowl of chips, you’ll want to enjoy this one over and over. As a bonus, I’ve included three of my favorite small striper patterns. Surfcaster’s Journal is an e-zine that is loaded with sage advice, even for fly fishers only. You can get a subscription for just 25 bucks a year right here.

In case you don’t recognize the names, this issue is packed with articles written by some of the best, most experienced surfcasters in the northeast.

Way Out West, Part 1: The Kootenai River

Years ago, when I first heard of the Kootenai River, my brain assumed that it was in Alaska. I mean, it sounds like it belongs in the 49th state, doesn’t it? Well, it’s in Montana, and the locals pronounce it “KOOT-en-ee,” not “nye.” So I was wrong on both counts.

Located in the extreme northwest corner of Montana, a ‘way up by Canada, the Kootenai is Montana’s largest tailwater fishery. This is a big, deep river with crystal clear waters that mask its depth; if you’re going to fish it effectively, you really need to be in a drift boat. When we first arrived at our cabin — located just a cast away from the back porch — I thought, “Maybe later I’ll just wade out to that deeper stretch along the opposite bank.” Wrong. The water would have been chest high just 20 feet from shore. Over the next tow days, we floated over pools that were well overhead deep, and you could still easily see the bottom.

This was just a few paces from the back porch of our cabin. Libby, MT, is so far north that on August 1, this is the light at 9:30pm. You can see that the immediate shoreline is wadeable, but then it drops off in a hurry. The Koonetai is wider than the Housatonic in many places, and consistently far deeper. When you’re fishing the Kootenai, you focus on the transition areas between depth and shallow — the “change of color,” as my guide Jeff put it. I did some wet fly fishing, but mostly dry-dropper, with the dropper being another dry or small nymph.
We stayed at the Kootenai Angler, run by Dave and Tammy Blackburn. There’s a fly shop on site, and full guide service available, which you’ll need. We rented their Betts Cabin, which was spacious and rustically elegant and wonderful. More than enough room for my me, my wife, and two sons. You can imagine how wide and deep the river must be for it to be flowing at 6,900cfs and still be low and clear!
There’s also a restaurant on site. We ate there two nights, and I think my favorite part (besides the good food and incredibly reasonable prices) was being able to buy a bottle of wine, drink half of it, then bring it back the next night to polish it off. I’ll also go on record with this: Tammy Blackburn makes the best sandwiches I’ve ever had on a guided trip. They bring plenty of water, and with my stash of snacks (I’m a growing boy) I was well-fueled both days. The town of Libby is just a 15-20 minute drive, so you can get a breakfast sandwich or sit-down breakfast at a number of locations.
The first day, we floated as a family in two boats; Karen and myself in one, the boys in the other. Neither Karen nor Gordon have done any real fly fishing, and both of them did a fantastic job with the learning curve — and yes, they both caught a good number of fish. The Kootenai is primarily a rainbow trout fishery, and they have the state’s only native strain on rainbows, the inland red band. While being out with the family and seeing everyone catch fish was a positive, I wasn’t thrilled with the water we floated over on the first day. Much of it was unremarkable, with flows that were in no rush to get to the ocean. But, I understand that is was good water for the beginners. I was also disappointed with the size of the fish on the first day. What you see here was typical of what we were getting into. Jeff explained that the feeder creeks had gotten too warm, and so much of the resident smaller fish had made their way into the bigger river in search of cold water relief.
Then, there were the whitefish. Some consider them to be a trash fish, but they are part of the salmonid family. And it’s a new species for the fly-fishing tally sheet.
Jeff Kalwara was my guide for two days. He did an excellent job teaching Karen, managing her rigs, releasing fish, and just being an all-around swell guy. Jeff and I went out solo the next day, but you’ll have to wait to read about that adventure…and more fish…and bigger fish.
A guide’s work is never done. This is Jay, who guided Cam and Gordo. When we left Libby at 9am, he was busy in the shop replenishing his stock of guide flies. He also did a commendable job with Gordo, who really hasn’t fly fished proper before this. Well done, gentlemen!

Farmington River book timeline update

TGIF! I did a little fishing this week, and a lot of house- and yardkeeping, along with various other tasks. We got a wee slug of rain, which made a slight dent in our water deficit.

To the Fly Fishing Guide to the Farmington River book news. I should have copy edits for review in mid September. Fly photo review is next. Then the whole shebang goes into layout and typesetting, then back to me for review. That should happen by the end of October. Once final edits are made, we get into physical production. A revised target release date is June 2026! I know you’re excited and can’t wait — as am I — but like an angler resting a fussy fish, we’ll all just have to be patient.

No reason to be crabby! The book is moving along, and I’ll raise a glass (or a plastic cup) to that.

Meanwhile, I’ve started putting together my Montana report (no, really). Look for the first installment next week.

If you’re not doing so already, you should be following me on Instagram

Long-time currentseamsers already know this, but for the newer folks — or for the procrastinators among us (of which I’m one!) — it bears repeating. I have an Instagram account, and on it you’ll find unique material that you won’t see here. For example, in the last couple weeks I’ve posted two how-to videos, one wet fly, and one nymphing, for smallmouth bass. (Now that the book is “done,” I’m hoping to be doing more videos.) Hop to it. You can find and follow me on Instagram at stevecultonflyfishing.

Come see what you’ve been missing on Instagram at stevecultonflyfishing.

Montana report will have to wait: it’s time to tie up some September Nights!

It was about this time every year that Ken Abrames would post a reminder on his Striper Moon forum. The forum is long gone, but the sentiment and action statement lives on! Ken’s September Night is by far my favorite finger mullet fly, and you can tie it longer as the mullet get bigger and fatter. I’ve tied this with a ginger marabou collar, and the bass said yes. Here’s a good link with tying instruction from yours truly so you too can tie the September Night.

This might be the sexiest baitfish fly-without-eyes around.

And, we’re back! (Plus some odds and ends.)

Hopefully, you noticed I didn’t post last week. Maybe you even missed me a little. I was way out west — Montana, Idaho, Wyoming — on a family vacation. Oh, you betcha there was fishing. I’ll get to that in greater detail later this week, but for now, I fished the Kootenay in NW Montana, Hebgen Lake in southern Montana, and the Madison and Henry’s Fork rivers in Montana and Idaho. We drove around Yellowstone and Grand Teton for a couple days, but (sadly) no fishing in either location for me.

I’ve never been to this part of the country, let alone fished it, so it was all new and wondrous. The water I fished was unlike anything we have back here.

You’re kidding, right? We stayed in a private cabin on the banks — really, as this is the view just a few feet from the back porch — of the Kootenay River in northwestern Montana, a ‘way up near Canada. That far north, and at the western edge of the Mountain Time Zone, it gets dark late. This photo was taken at 9:24PM!

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Before I left, I finished a piece for Surfcaster’s Journal on fishing small flies for striped bass. This will be essential reading for anyone who’s interested in fishing a three-fly team in marshes with small bait-imitating flies, or sight fishing with smaller patterns on beach fronts or flats. I’ll let you know when it comes out.

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I just received the first pass on rendered maps for the Farmington River book, and I think they look great! My goal was to have a graphically simple, eye-to-brain-friendly design for you, dear reader, and the artist hit it out of the park. There’s a large overview map, and then five detail maps that focus on the 22-mile stretch from Hogback to Farmington.

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On the home front, the Farmington is running at a fantastic, cool, trout-friendly summer level, reminiscent of yesteryear when the MDC wasn’t toying with the flows. Tricos are the big little hatch right now, which horrifies night owls like me. Get on it, early birds, while you can.

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Finally, I have some availability the rest of this month and through September for guide trips/lessons. If you’ve been hemming and hawing about getting out with me, this is best time to do it for the rest of the year. I used guides on my trip out west, and even I learned a ton — I’m a better angler than before I left. You know where to find me.