Podded up Wintertime Suckers

 Suckers. Just the name alone has a complete lack of glamour. Who waxes poetic about the lowly sucker? Not enough people, if you ask me. White suckers are a fabulous and difficult fish, averaging larger than most trout in Southern New England. Plenty of times an angler will hook what they think is a large trout only to be disappointed by a modestly sized sucker. Why? That 16 inch sucker just fooled you into thinking you had a 22 inch brown trout! Imagine what the 22 inch sucker will feel like.... Well, if you're very experienced you know that a sucker fights a bit differently from a trout. They twist and death roll more, and stay deeper generally.  Fighting aside, a lot of people think suckers are ugly. I tend to think describing any living organism as ugly is a very archaic and perhaps even immoral prescription. There is beauty in survival, and when I think about the form and function of any living fish I feel the same deep feeling that life is beautiful. Suckers evolved in their environment to fill a nice, and their oft-thought unappealing head and mouth structure is a remarkable work of natural art, at least to me. Different species have very different shapes, be they longnose suckers, shorthead redhorse, river redhorse, or indeed our locally abundant white suckers. And then there's their coloration and scaling. White suckers look like they've adorned thousands of tiny pennies, shining copper under a late afternoon sun. They're a lovely fish, deserving of as much respect as any other. 

They're also infinitely more interesting to angle for than are hatchery trout. So it was that I dropped my plans completely one evening while doing some mono rig practice when I came across a large school of wintering suckers in a crystal clear deep pool. These fish would not be eating as readily as the holdover rainbows I'd been catching. I promptly made some rig alterations and tried to figure out how best to present to the school. The task was made difficult by a significant amount of ice and depth between myself and the fish. I opted to fish to them from below, though it was a little further away. I went through a quick rotation of flies before deciding that the fly wasn't as much of an issue as the presentation. I schlepped on an indicator and that problem was solved. it wasn't lock an load, despite the tightly packed school. It rarely is with suckers on artificials. But I started to pick off fish on a large Hare's Ear, their takes registering as gentle double and triple ticks on the indicator. 

A couple came up fouled, a regrettable but unavoidable aspect of fishing tightly packed sucker schools. Happily though, I managed a half dozen to hand hooked squarely in the upper lip. Funny enough I did rotate through some other flies, including a mop and some tiny pheasant tails, and the preference leaned decisively to the size 10 Hare's Ear. I tend to find that if suckers are being picky smaller in better, but it wasn't in this case this time. The key, especially in the winter, is having the fly roll right along the bottom. I was accomplishing that with ease with each fly by adding and removing small shot, though the hare's ear didn't need any. That may have been the difference maker. When I've been in position to closely observe the suckers I'm presenting to I've noticed that they'll move out of the way if they feel the tipped, and with a split shot rolling ahead of the fly they're far more likely to encounter the tippet before the fly makes it to them. This can be negated by utilizing the down and across technique often employed for Great Lakes salmon and steelhead, but I'd found this results in a higher percentage of snagged fish. 

I've fished intentionally for suckers for many years now, and on many a day found myself completely unable to convert opportunities even when there were large schools of them in front of me. Back in my formative years, we'd revert to snagging them. It was silly, but as kids there was this urge to see these weird, big-ish fish out of the water and hold them. When we found them much more picky and moody than the stocked trout, sunfish, and largemouth bass we were used to, we forced our will upon them  I feel bad for doing it now, of course. But I think it somewhat speaks to the intrinsic curiosity these fish resulted in. We'd see them plastered to the river bottom in so many of the places we fished, and just had to catch them. It wasn't until I started fly fishing that I had any thought of them being undesirable. The stupid, pointless hierarchy so common in fishing- that which sticks certain species on a pedestal while considering anything else as worthless trash -almost got to me. But the child-like curiosity won out, thankfully. Those odd, big fish plastered to the river bed still capture my imagination. All that really changed is that now I know how to properly catch them. 

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Franky, Geof, Luke, Noah, Justin, Sean, Tom, Mark, Jake, Chris, Oliver, and oddity on Display for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.

A Lone Tiger in the Bridge Pool

Cheyenne and I walked down to the Bridge Pool one dull, chilly November day. This was the first time she'd ever been to my home river with me, which made it special. Few places have had such a significant impact on my life. The Bridge Pool is pretty much the epicenter of my fly fishing world. It was quite a playground for a fly fishing obsessed teenager; a stream stolen from the Rockies and hidden in CT, just a short bike ride from home and hidden from view. 

The Bridge Pool has changed a lot over the years, but was especially different this time as the old cart bridge that was the pool's name sake was gone. The pool is still there but the bridge is gone. That was a bit sad, as I can remember many years ago going on hikes with my mother and younger brother and walking across that bridge. I can remember looking down at that pool and wondering what sort of creatures might be hiding in its depths. 

I've had a whole lot of years and chances since then to figure out exactly the sort of things that swim in that pool. I'd caught everything from crappies to 22 inch wild brown trout in there, and a whole lot in between. Today, though, the Bridge Pool would give up a fish I'd never caught within its confines before. Kneeling on the bank, with Cheyenne behind me, I cast an Ausable Ugly under an indicator into the heart of the pool. On the fifth cast, the bobber dropped and I set the hook into a substantial trout. It wasn't a trout, actually. It was a trout char hybrid; a big holdover tiger. I'd caught rogue holdover tigers and even a few wild ones out of my home water before, but never out of the bridge pool. It was a handsome specimen, though one that I didn't feel should be permitted to live there any longer. Stocked tigers are ravenous predators that can have a notable individual impact in a small system like this one.

Cheyenne and I ate that fish that night, along with a rainbow I'd caught at another river later in the day, baked wrapped in tinfoil with lemon and spices. There was a time I would have released that fish and scoffed at another angler for deciding to take it. 

I've grown a lot since I first cast a fly into the Bridge Pool.

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.

Late Fall and Winter Trout Season

 We're progressing into a colder weather pattern here in New England and the fishing is changing. Dropping water temperatures and higher average stream flows mean generally slower fish behavior. That doesn't mean slower fishing though. It actually took me a fair bit of time to really dial in the late season trout bite on my local waters. Part of what it took to dial that bite in was just incessant bobber fishing and small but stupid heavy streamers. Since that isn't a fishing style I liked for a long time, I ended up missing out on a large amount of the season. Once I did pick it up though, I covered copious amounts of water to figure out where the wintering holes were, and when I did find them I found loads of trout stacked up. 

 

I then of course wanted to answer a question: could I catch these trout at night? It turns out the answer was yes. Even in the dead of winter, with fine tuned strategies and slow ad methodical approach, I was still able to pull on fish after dark.

If you are looking to improve your success during the late season, or learn new water and techniques, I'll be booking trout trips throughout the winter. Both daylight and nighttime trips will be available- hand warmers included on all trips, haha! 

A big thank you goes out to those of you that booked me already this year, you've all been fantastic and I greatly appreciate your business. I hope I'll get to see some of you folks again! 

In the meantime, I'm considering starting a series of zoom classes on fly fishing strategies, fly design, and reading water. If that sounds interesting to any of you, please comment to let me know. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.

Seeking a Monster Fallfish

 I'm totally infatuated with giant fallfish. I'd love to say that I have a few water bodies close to home where I can consistently catch fallfish north of a foot long, but this just doesn't happen around here. There are some fish of that caliber, but not many. This is in contrast to other parts of the Northeast where fallfish in excess of a foot really aren't that uncommon. For me, looking for an impressive fallfish is a needle-in-a-haystack type pursuit. 

last week I devoted quite a bit of time to a stream I've caught some of my biggest local fallfish in. It isn't a large stream but during the spawning season, big fallfish enter it from the river it flows into. The spawn was in full swing when I visited, and it was difficult to pick fish out of the schools. When I caught males, they were colored up and their heads were covered in tubercles. When I caught females, they were full of eggs. 

I worked both up and downriver hoping to find some dense schools with a few large ones mixed in, but the pickings were slim. I ended up covering more water than I intended, and catching a few unintended species. Stocked brown and rainbow trout were a disappointing find, and I got about a dozen of them. 

At the very uppermost point that most fish migrating from downriver can reach, there was a really deep hole. Salmonid species and perhaps white suckers could perhaps pass the plunges about the pool, but most fish are stopped. Every year I get a few small smallmouth and largemouth bass in that pool, but on this trip my indicator was sunk by a smallmouth that was every bit of 4 1/2 pounds! Unfortunately, the hook pulled. That certainly would have been the fish of the day. As I walked back downriver, the sun came out and it started and I went to look for rattlesnakes. The cloud cover rolled right back over and it cooled off again. I saw timbers, but had no good photo opportunities. It was just one of those days where nothing was going quite right. Hopefully I'll be able to get on some monster fallfish at a later date.

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

White Sucker Insanity

 Every now and then I accomplish exactly what I want to. This is very, very rare, but it does happen. The spring sucker run had already been in progress for a little while when, on March 30th, I hit an absurdly good bite the likes of which I'd never seen before. My primary goal that day had actually been an abject failure: I'd been after fallfish, specifically large ones, and I'd not found anything remotely like what I was looking for in that regard. The day turned around the moment I came around one bend on the last stream I had on my hit list and found a run so full of suckers that I couldn't see the stream-bed at all. That wasn't even the only spot like that. Within about a hundred yards of creek, I may have seen over a thousand white suckers. And they weren't shy. I primarily indicator-nymphed, and that bobber dropped again and again. The bite was constant from the time I arrived until the time I left. There really were no lulls at all. It was the most insane white sucker fishing I've ever seen. 

Fat, egg laden females were followed by colored up, tubercle covered males. Each fish fought superbly: some jumped while others made mad dashes downstream. This was a small stream I was fishing, I could never hope to have an outing this action packed with any other species on water this size in CT. I was some of the most fun I've ever had with a fly rod in my hand, honestly. I was giddy. 

Most of the fish took a bead head Hare's Ear Soft Hackle. There was little need for me to bother changing as it never seemed to decrease in effectiveness at all. Maybe an egg would have worked better but I was hooking fish darn near every drift. I also discovered I had to set the hook very carefully to prevent repetitively snagging fish. The sort of quick, sharp set I use when trout fishing worked, but also snagged fish. A gentle lifting hook set stopped that entirely. It's essentially the same sort of hook set you'd use fishing for Great Lakes salmon with nymphs or eggs, for the same reason- snag prevention. 

By the time it was too dark to see, I'd caught more white suckers than I'd probably caught in my entire life prior. It had been exactly the sort of sucker fishing I'd hoped to experience this spring, and though I'll certainly be casting at some more before the run ends, I felt completely satisfied and was happy to move onto another major target species, a feeling I've gotten to enjoy only a handful of times over the years. Of course next spring I'll be checking back on logs to try hitting this sort of bite again, but until then, I'm on to the next fish. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien

I Didn't Take You For a Sucker(fisherman)

White suckers are the most ubiquitous fish in moving water here in Connecticut. They are vastly more numerous than trout, and because of their size they make up a larger biomass than sunfish species. Blacknose dace are certainly more abundant but are so small anglers rarely ever catch them, accidentally or intentionally. Anglers targeting trout periodically catch white suckers, especially in lake winter and early spring. Unfortunately, they are often disregarded, disrespected, or in some cases treated with outright contempt. I once listened to two anglers, (both in Trout Unlimited hats, go figure) on the Beaverkill speaking about a dead sucker they’d found… the words “better dead than alive’” were said. I duly explained to them that white suckers are a native species and play a vital role in the health of the river. They are an important food source for birds of prey, mammals, and large predator fish. They spawn in a fashion not dissimilar to trout but far more communal, and they clean large swaths of gravel that are later used by other fish species to spawn as well. Not to mention; there is a reason the sucker spawn fly pattern is so popular… trout eat sucker eggs. Non-native brown and rainbow trout, I might add….

Anyway, not only are white suckers an important native fish, they are also very sporting. This is something I’ve never really understood: white suckers are more selective than trout, fight really hard, run much larger on average, and are edible and apparently quite tasty when prepared correctly. Why is it that they are one of the species most often referred to as a “trash fish”? I adore white suckers. They are very hard to catch most of the year, so when the spring spawning run concentrates fish and gets them more aggressive I am usually antsy to get out and try to catch some. This year, I devoted some extra focus to pursuing these tricky omnivores. On March 15th I followed up on a report from my friend Joe, who had caught a bunch of suckers the evening prior. I went to the same spot intent on indicator nymphing it until I could no longer feel my extremities. It was a cold evening and cloudy, and I was sure the conditions weren’t all that poor. It took picking through a couple stocked trout before my indicator dropped and I set the hook into the real thing. 

Targeting white suckers on the fly is a bit less straightforward than some would think. In the summer I sight fish for them, and it is a very engaging yet frustrating game of watching most fish run away from or just completely ignore your fly. During the spawning run there are usually more targets, but you often can’t see them and it feels just as difficult to get them to eat as it does while sight fishing. Almost like nymphing steelhead, if white suckers aren’t really on fire and biting like crazy you just have to pound water until your fly gets in front of a willing one’s face. I was certainly accomplishing that, there were tons of fish in front of me. It just took patience. I fished two pools and was on the river for three hours. I landed half a dozen white suckers though, not including three that were hooked outside the mouth. Each was bigger than any of the 8 stocked trout I also caught, and way, way cooler.They all fought like demons too. Two even jumped. 

A green weenie took four fish, a mop fly took two. Eggs are often recommended as a good sucker fly and I did fish egg patterns, however I came up empty handed with them. I’ve had good success in the past with a variety of patterns including the Carp Carrot, Black-ops, Hare’s Ear, Ausable Ugly, and San Juan Worm. I’m not sure there is a “best sucker fly”, you sort of just have to throw a buggy or meaty nymph until your arm is about to fall off. 

I left pretty satisfied, that was my best spring sucker outing in a long time. But I wasn’t so satisfied that I was ready to give up. Oh no, I had decided that I was going to nymph good white sucker water until I couldn’t take catching another. Big fallfish, big wild trout, and untold other fish would also likely get caught in the process. Stay tuned. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Indi Rig Winter Carp

 After catching my big early season pike and spending a bit more time figuring out that very little else was likely to come out of the same spot that day, Noah and I switched gears to target something smaller. We visited an early season crappie spot where I had some great success a few years ago around the same time of year. Upon arriving we discovered that although panfish seemed entirely absent, carp were present and seemed to be feeding. 

I’d seen carp at this spot before, including what looked like the same large orange koi we could see on this day, but had never caught any. Granted the effort I had put in wasn’t all that strong. But this time I decided to really give them a try, especially since they were all that was present. Early March is indeed when I get the first carp of the season most years, so it would be a shame not to start out 2021 strong seeing as carp are one of the fish I intend to regain some proficiency with this year. I started out doing what I typically do for carp, sight casting with a weighted fly. I may have had one take doing this but distance, visibility, and current were giving me a hard time. I decided to do something I’d never really tried before for carp. I’ve seen videos and heard people talk about using strike indicators for carp fishing. Seeing as I’d barely ever indicator fished for most of my fly fishing career, but suddenly started doing a whole lot of it last year, I decided to branch out with the methodology even further.

One of the reasons I’ve often objected to trying indi rig carping was the vertical nature of the presentation. I’ve often felt that a vertical tippet puts off carp because it is more likely to be felt by the fish when it attempts to eat the fly. I’m still not sure I’m wrong about this, but spending more time indicator fishing for species with similar feeding inclinations, like redhorse and white suckers, has put a bit of doubt in my mind. Granted carp seem more line-shy than both of those species, but I doubt the sensitivity of their mouths and faces is all that different. That was the main reason I’d not already tried it. Since detecting strikes was my main issue in this situation I decided to ignore that. 

I tied on a small chartreuse jig fly, size 10 with a tungsten bead, on 4x tippet and 3 feet under a Thingamabobber. It was a bit surprising how little time it took to get a bite. I could see the fish in the water but would not likely have seen the take. The indicator dropped with authority, though, and I was immediately faced with a problem. We were fishing in a spot with a substantial stone wall dropping into the water, with trees to our left and some remaining ice in front of us. I managed to get around the first tree before deciding to try to drop carefully onto the ice to get around the second one. The ice didn’t break when I stepped on it, but instead started to push out away from the edge. In comically slow fashion I’d become stuck with my back against the rock wall and my feet on the ice, scrambling to get back up on the wall unsuccessfully while still fighting the carp. I fell in, inevitably, but only up to my knees. I scrambled back onto the wall and tried to re-evaluate. Weirdly, getting on the ice still seemed like the best plan. I used my foot to get the ice back against the edge and stepped back onto it, this time without pushing it out. I walked around the tree and promptly broke through the ice. Now accepting that I’d be spending the rest of the fight in the water, I maneuvered to fish around the ice and eventually caught it.

That was about as chaotic a battle as I’d ever had with a carp that weighed, in all likelihood, less than 10 pounds. But after a winter of very minimal big fish success, catching both a nice pike and a common carp on the same day was exhilarating. Noah took some shots for me before I released the fish and climbed back up onto dry land. I was very glad I’d kept the waders on. We stuck around for a while trying to repeat this success but weren’t able to get another bite. I’d landed the first carp of the year though, and was very pleased. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, and Luke for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Spillway Multispecies Fishing

 Spillway holes in Connecticut are sporadically productive. It seems that throughout the Midwest, most spillways hold fish well through the winter, but in New England only a small percentage do. It has taken me quite a few years to find some that do hold bass, panfish, suckers, and shiners year round. To make things more complex, some of the spillways only appear to hold fish some years, regardless of conditions. I wish I could say visiting any spillway hole that isn’t frozen is a sure bet for some fish, but that’s definitely not the case in Connecticut. Fortunately I have a couple ringers, and when I’m not in the mood for holdover stripers, trout, or ice fishing, they are there to save my sanity. 

The thought process behind looking for fish in spillway holes in the winter is pretty simple. When the water temperature drops in smaller streams and rivers, the deepest, slowest pools offer the best refuge for warm-water species. Spillway holes are often deep and slow and some have slack or near slack water as well. The thermocline of the lake or pond above also plays a role if the dam isn’t exclusively releasing surface water. In the winter, the water at the bottom of the lake is typically warmer. In essence, the best winter spillways are micro-tailwaters. I know one such micro tailwater in Connecticut and a few top spill dams that hold panfish, bass, and golden shiners at least most winters. 

Noah and I visited one such spillway on a mild day in mid January and found plenty of fish there but didn’t catch much. A few days later I went back on my own. I was in the mood to catch anything that wasn’t a trout, but I was particularly hopeful to get at least one nice golden shiner. I would fish a very small indicator and a size 14 Walt’s Worm. Like a float n’ fly in the late fall or early spring on a pond or the jigging through the ice, an indicator and tiny nymph is subtle enough not to disturb the fish and slow enough they don’t have to move much to eat. The indicator is key, the fly needs to suspend. There is rarely enough current to dead drift a fly in the column without an indicator.

Initially it was sluggish. I could see some very small white suckers flashing but I wasn’t getting takes. It turns out many of the bluegills and crappies were all just jammed into a very small area of less than three square feet. As soon as I began casting to a specific part of the pool, it was a fish almost every cast. Bluegills dominated, though there were a couple very small crappies mixed in. 

I kept going beyond the point where the bite seemed to die hoping for just one golden shiner. I was still getting the occasional take but not many after fish 23. I crept up on number 30 with 7 more bluegills in half an hour. My 30th fish was a golden shiner! It seems 30 is a number of significance when it comes to panfishing in particular. This is something Noah noticed first. If you want to catch something unusual or bigger, one in 30 fish will be something atypical. Sure, it’s not a law, but it seems pretty darn consistent. 

With my golden shiner acquired I decided to head to another dam to see if it was fishing well at all. This one had been sporadic for me but at least usually holds trout. Sure enough, that’s all I caught -stocked trout. One was a tiger. I can’t seem to escape those buggers. A little bummed that there weren’t any wild fish of any kind willing to eat and losing my light anyway, I headed home. My spillway adventures are not done yet this winter though. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, and Geof for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien

Puddle Shiners and Rock-flipping Sculpins (Western PA Pt. 7)

 Our finale full day in Pennsylvania was upon us and Noah, Jake and I wanted to end the trip on a high note. With lower pressure, cloud cover, and showers in the morning forecast we hoped our luck with the bigger predators might improve. Add to it, my grandfather would be joining us on the water for the first bit of the day, it seemed nothing could be better. At first we may be in luck, as the redhorse, drum, and carp were much more active. One thing I forgot to count on is how bad I sometimes am at hooking bottom feeding roughfish, especially suckers and carp. I have days where I just whiff take after take and this was one of them. I whiffed a few carp. I whiffed a nice drum. Then I reefed the set on a huge redhorse and my leader snapped with a sickening whip-crack. It's a good thing I can nymph channel catfish, apparently, because I got a few of them. They weren't big but I'll take any cat on the fly any time, and indicator nymphing them was new to me. 

Jake ended up getting himself one smallmouth redhorse on a worm, but as the morning wore on it seemed we might not get the big fish we were hoping to. We all aught fish at least, and for my money, Some of Noah's were the funniest. There was a puddle on the walkway above the tunnel, where fisherman stand and soak bait in the deep, roiling dam discharge below. They'd clearly been discarding their minnows in that puddle as it was full of them. 

He got one golden shiner, and I think a spottail shiner too. That these fish were surviving effectively in the puddle demonstrates the problems with discarding live bait. A heavy rain could so easily provide these fish a way into the river, and these weren't all native species. Fisherman are not conscious enough about such things, a tiny cyprinid species could wreck havoc on some important native species and the habitat they need.  

As it began to seem our options at this spot were exhausted, we decided to move along. My grandfather headed out and Noah, Jake and I went to the next spot. It was a small freestone stream suggested to us by my grandfather, where we stood a reasonable shot at Jake getting his lifer rainbow trout, as well as catching good catfish bait for that night in the form of big creek chubs. We filled the bait quota but found no trout, but the odd bass instead.

As we were fishing downstream, a family hopped in just below us and continued on down. Not wanting to fish water that had just been fished, we turned back upstream and headed back towards the cars. Noah rushed ahead as Jake and I lollygagged and fished our way up. We ended up finding a pool with some good darter and sculpin habitat, and started micro fishing it. I flipped some rocks and found that some large mottled sculpins were residing under them. It didn't take long for both Jake and I to catch one, and when Noah wondered where the hell we were and came back down he had little trouble getting them to eat either. At the time, this was a lifer for me, but sine then I'e learned that the tiny sculpin I got further up in the Allegheny watershed was a mottled too. 

Lifelist fish #176, Mottled sculpin, Cottus bairdii. Rank: Species

Sculpins are awesome, I really do adore them. They are beautiful little fish and very charismatic. And honestly, any fish that has the gall to still eat after you've essentially lifted up the roof of his house in order to find him is pretty cool. 

Jake then diverted attention to darters and it payed off, he got a lovely fan tail, a lifer for him.

Fantail darter, Etheostoma flabellare

Then we all caught bluntnose minnows, which were lifers for Noah and I.

Lifelist fish #177. Bluntnose minnow, Pimephales notatus. Rank: species.

With lifers now under our belts, at least we felt some goals had been met and we decided to change spots again and seek bigger fish yet again. 

Until next time,

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, and Franky for supporting this blog on Patreon.

Redhorse, Shiners, and Crayfish Eating Snakes (Western PA Pt. 6)

 As dawn broke on our second morning in Pennsylvania, it became abundantly clear to Jake, Noah and I that we needed to make a pretty drastic change. We'd struggled the whole day prior and well into the night to find larger fish that were willing to eat, and we just weren't successful. And now it was the coldest morning any of us had felt in months. Temperatures had dropped below 50 overnight. We hit the same creek where Noah and I had found wild trout the first day, and Jake quickly got his lifer, but we then dropped south. Even though we were inland and not even travelling an hour, we were going into slightly warmer weather. We were headed to another area I'd spent a lot of time around as a kid, but still hadn't fished much. 

We dropped further down the Allegheny watershed, towards a town called Vandergrift and the surrounding area. Vandergrift is where my mother grew up and where my grandparents still live, northeast of Pittsburgh. We'd spend the second half of our trip fishing this area, which is just as species rich though much more impacted industrial activity. It would be interesting to see how the native species were faring in these waters. 

The first spot we decided to check out was a spillway my grandfather has been telling me about for years. It was a spot he'd caught a number of muskellunge at over the years. That was certainly a big draw, but it was a spillway... from shiners to redhorse to huge catfish, spillways draw fish. They're both a barrier to upstream travel, a food delivery funnel, and a provider of deep holding water. We knew the likelihood of encountering things like drum, sauger, redhorse, and buffalo would be pretty high at such a place. And he first few minutes were not disappointing, as we saw multiple sized and species of redhorse. Some were just flashing, but others were actually tailing like carp. Or, frankly, like bonefish. Because if I were going to consider any North American freshwater fish a bonefish, it would be redhorse. They're sleeker than carp and I'm convinced they fight harder, pound for pound. 

As it turned out though they aren't as easy to catch. I was getting snubbed constantly no matter what I presented these fish. This surprised me a bit, I'd expected these fish to be about as difficult as carp and a little easier than white suckers, but at least in the conditions we'd been presented so far they were about as tricky as white suckers if not more. Even with bait they were far from pushovers. 

Incidentally, the first notable catch, by Jake, wasn't a fish, but a reptile. He'd actually caught one the night before as well, albeit a juvenile, and that one had been my lifer. It was a queen snake, an unassuming but beautiful semi-aquatic natricine that feeds primarily on crayfish. They're cool snakes but that's all I really knew about them, I hadn't even realized they lived in the area. 

These were very cool snakes, I saw them exhibit behavior more aquatic in nature than any snake species I'e observed besides actual water snakes (Nerodia). They'd poke out of crevices with everything but their heads under the surface, and spent extended periods of time completely submerged. They seemed especially abundant too, we saw lots of them. 

Eventually I finally caught something noteworthy while indicator nymphing, something very noteworthy. My indicator gave a little shudder, very bluegill like, but I set into something much larger than I'd hooked all day and when it started thrashing at the surface I could see that it was a redhorse, so no matter what it would be a new species. It turned out to be a smallmouth redhorse, endemic to the Ohio drainage and an especially good looking redhorse speceis. It had nibbled a beadhead Hare's Ear soft hackle. 

Lifelist fish #174, smallmouth redhorse, Moxostoma breviceps. Rank:species.

That was a gorgeous fish, a native species that is largely overlooked and an exceptional challenge to catch. I promptly fell in love and had a big goofy smile plastered on my face as I let the fish slip from my hands and back into the muddy river. 

I kept indicator nymphing for a while hoping that might be the effective method, and I did get a few more fish, but not anything exciting. 

By the time I gave up on that, Jake and Noah were hammering down on micros, including streamline chubs which I thought I needed (I'd not yet ID'd mine from the day before). Jake was also catching the odd logperch. So I rigged a tanago and got to it. Of course I could only seem to catch species I already had, but luckily I take photos of fish that may not be new but have some relatives that are similar enough... what I thought was a spottail shiner I'm now as sure as I an be is a rosyface shiner.

Lifelist Fish #175, rosyface shiner, Notropis rubellus. Rank: species.

With two new species on the fly under my belt, I ended the day's outing photographing another queen snake.

From the river we headed to my grandparents' house, where we'd get to say in relative luxury for two nights in their camper. It was great to see them, though strange due to the necessity of social distancing due to coronavirus. Living a few states away from my family leaves long gaps between visits, so though I'd been there and seen them all much more recently than I'd seen Franklin, a lot had changed. It held more of a familiarity though, it felt much less strange. Perhaps the presence of people I know and love is all there is to that.

Until next time,

Fish for the love of fish.
Fish for the love of places fish live.
Fish for you.
And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, and Franky for supporting this blog on Patreon.