Even the Smallmouth Liked The Cold

This April was very warm, and the small stream smallmouth were active.

First smallie of the season

Late Fall Trouting is Risky in Wading Boots

Late last fall I headed north to a river that I had only fished once before to find the water was much higher than I expected it to me. The air was cool, the sun was warm, and the area had the typical smell of blackpowder and leaves that have become so familiar to me in the fall.

I love this time of year. I typically avoid the woods and fishing in general during hunting season but the weather is perfect, so I spend as much time out doors as possible. The only problem is the leaves.

The slippery, wet, dangerous leaves.

I climbed down this, in my waders and wading boots, to fish an area I thought might produce some brook trout only to find the water ridiculously high and completely un fishable.

I then spent the next 30 minutes looking at this.

Since every time I'd try to climb out, I'd slide back down.

I eventually was able to use a combination of trees, rocks, and luck, to get to the top, where I found that I had wandered a bit away from my entry point and was faced with a 6 foot sheer wall of rock.

Obviously, I'm writing this using my solar powered cell phone for internet, because I'm not nimble enough to scale a wall.

At least I managed one fish on the day.

An Icey Recap

As part of my "catching up" series, I figured I should cover my ice fishing season. I had a ton of fun this year on the ice and got out a bit more than I had before, with a bit more success than before. Here's the photo recap.

Fat perch from a small pond

First ice is always fun. Ice came early this season. This photo is from December 20th, 2009

Just a few days later, on Christmas Eve, I went out for a couple of hours solo to a different small pond to find 8+ inches of ice and hungry fish

Ice Out Fishing Is Worth The Frostbite

Fishing ice out can be cold and miserable. The fish are almost always there, but not always hungry, or pissed off, enough to take your flies, lures, or worms.

This year seemed to be different and special.

They Will Survive.

As I mentioned last year, June 22nd is a good day for fishing. This year the fishing wasn't spectacular and I was tired from training entering the week before my triathlon but spending time in the woods, away from the masses, was as great and refreshing as usual. Dapping and casting from 7 or 8 feet from the bank were the tickets today. Stealth was important.

Second little guy of the day

And his house

Thin little headwaters

came from a deep bend pool

Fiesty little rainbow

Look closely. Where's waldo?

... and then my knuckles were bruised. (The story)

Alright, here's the deal. Every year I make a run out west to hit the Salmon run coming out of one of the Great Lakes. Last year I went with one group of friends; this year another. Regardless, I made the run. Last year was crazy - it was my first time, I hooked a couple of fish but never landed them. More weight in fish was landed that weekend than I had ever seen, and I was amazed. I knew I'd be back this year.

I met a few buddies at around 3am - sandwiches made by my wife at 2am in hand - and we began the 3.5 hour journey west through beautiful country, rolling hills, and farm lands... in the dark. The whole way over, through some snoring, we discussed where to start. The upper? The lower? How about that creek? What if the water is too high? What if its too crowded?

These are typical questions for this river. We decided to fish the very popular upper and, when we arrived, there was only two cars already there. Thats a good sign.

We staggered down the bank and through the woods to get to the stream, which was flowing high but crystal clear. As soon as we got there, I began showing a friend who hadn't ever fished this way before the routine. Flip, drift, flip, drift. Monotonous, but it works. On his second flip during the lesson, a fish took the fly and came straight out of the water. A decent male King, hooked in the corner of the mouth. The shock on my buddies face was pretty funny, as were the whoops and hollers from the guys down stream of us. There might be fish in the river.

Not 10 minutes later, we had our first fish. Our "expert" on this particular river gave us an idea about what we'd be in for for the day.


King Salmon. Lots of them. Fighting hard, pretty fresh from the lake, and taking flies.

I fought several over the next few hours, failing to keep them out of the heavy current and either breaking them off or pulling the hook. Some weren't fair hooked so those were typically let go intentionally. I had one slam into my leg - leaving a fair sized bruise. There might be fish in the river.

The hookups slowed, we were getting hungry, and it was time to think about our next spot. The new guy and I headed up stream to see how things were going for people up there and to wait for the other two, that decided to head down to see if another spot was open. At this point, the bank was busy and lined with anglers.

When we didn't hear from anyone for 30 minutes, I headed down to see what was going on. Our group had secured the hot spot and had already landed two fish. I hopped right in and hooked up several times in several casts. This was getting a little ridiculous.







It went on like this for the rest of the afternoon. Everyone had hooked fish and I was in the process of landing mine. It was time to get the new guy a fish. We began hooking fish and handing him our rods. After 20 fish, every one of them broken off or lost, we finally gave up. New guy was exhausted, we were all starting to fall asleep, and we still had the 3.5 hour drive home.

I slept like a baby. Snored. Was promptly made fun of when I woke up. What a day.

Its hard to put it into words, especially since I'm not the most witty writer out there, but hopefully you'll get it. Big fish, heavy current, light rods, tons of fun.

Still Alive, maybe

Training really has taken over. I haven't really fished much, with the exception of a week or two ago. My wife took me to the coast for my birthday and told me to hire a guide to finally fish the salt. It was a successful trip, to say the least.







I'll be making a run or two out west for Salmon to have a multi-species salmon year. Also will be trying to get out to another small stream before the end of the season in a couple of weeks. I'll post photos, I promise.

I've been biking. Not really fishing.

Triathlon training has gotten serious, all of a sudden, and mileage on the bike has trumped mileage on the water. I've still had the chance to get out, including a family trip to Maine, a new species, and a few old favorites. Enjoy the photos.

(Beware of the cell phone photos below)

June 22nd Is a Good Day For Fishing.

June 22nd, each year, is a day that I won't ever forget. I decided to honor mom (It's been 4 years now... amazingly) by hitting my favorite stream and hiding in the woods for a while. It worked out well, in many regards. I won't post all of my photos, but a few of the highlights won't hurt.

First trout caught nymphing...

Compare it to the typical for this stream...

 

 

And a couple of mysterious surprises...

Just a few more to soak in...

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