Sunday, March 31, 2019

Finally, Something to Chew On

Trout trout trout trout trout trout trout.
The last couple months have been so much trout. A little bit of panfish through the ice, but so much trout. I was getting sick of it. Don't get me wrong, I love trout. Especially small stream wild fish and targeting monster browns. But I also crave variety. I'm a multi-species angler. I like figuring stuff out. And, of all the fish I fish for, trout are one of those that I have pretty well figured out. Walleye though... I only have them a little bit figured out. There is so much to learn with them, especially with fly tackle. So I've been haunting some of my walleye spots these last two weeks, waiting for a sign. And yesterday I got that sign. I could see some things lining up. Temperatures, pressure, amount and timing of rainfall... what I saw told me to fish a specific spot I hadn't fished yet this year, even though I'd never caught a walleye there this early. I pay close attention to patterns and what I saw told me where I should go. I suspected I'd find big walleye feeding and getting ready to spawn.

I knew the bite would coincide with last light. I also knew I wanted to fish before then. So I went for some other toothy critters. The pickerel were all too willing to occupy me.



The conditions played out exactly as they were supposed to. I was confident in my choices and predictions when I got to the spot. I didn't, however, foresee there being largemouth there. Or slab crappies. But you won't see me complaining.





On two consecutive casts, in the very same spot, I came tight to what were clearly substantial walleye. Neither was on for long, just long enough to demonstrate how large and in charge they were. The first just threw the fly. The second made off with both my fly and my clip. Serves me right for using a loop knot with a clip (loop knots bounce around in the clip on the cast and can slip out if they end up in a bad place. Thanks Alberto, for confirming that and setting me straight). Failing to get another take, I downsized flies. That again didn't produce. So I switched my position and covered the same water. That may seem completely pointless, but you'd be surprised by how often it results in a catch. The fish have seen your lure or fly come through the water in the same direction, and probably gotten more finicky if you've moved and hooked a few of their schoolmates. Now they see something coming through their spot in a different direction. That may just be what does the trick. And that's exactly what happened this time. It saved my butt.



he was a spawn ready male, as evidenced by the milt he discharged when I grabbed him. 22 inches long. Not a bad fish.

So, things lined up just as I thought they would. That was perfect. I also widened the scope of the time window within which this spot produces under the right conditions, which is excellent. It puts me leaps and bounds closer to my goal of getting a 30 inch walleye on the fly, as it is far more likely to happen early in the season when the giant females are in close. 

If you enjoy what I'm doing here, please share and comment. It is increasingly difficult to maintain this blog under dwindling readership. What best keeps me going so is knowing that I am engaging people and getting them interested in different aspects of fly fishing, the natural world, and art. Follow, like on Facebook, share wherever, comment wherever. Also, consider supporting me on Patreon (link at the top of the bar to the right of your screen, on web version). Every little bit is appreciated! Thank you to my Patrons, Erin, David, john, and Christopher, for supporting this blog.

Friday, March 29, 2019

Species Profile: Brown Trout

As most of you hopefully already know, I am a life-list angler. I target, document, and count the number of species, hybrids, and subspecies I catch, specifically on fly tackle. Because of that I spend a lot of time learning about and fishing for many different species of fish. This means I'm more adept at identifying and fishing for an extremely broad range of species than the average fly angler. This series will attempt to outline species identification, some life history, and methods for targeting with fly tackle. Maybe I'll get to every fish on my life list, but considering it is ever growing... it would take a while. Mostly, I hope this will get a few of you interested in going out and learning about or catching something new. 

It may seem strange that I'd cover such an iconic, classic, well known, broadly written about species in my species profile series, especially given the ones I've covered so far (rock bassbluefishsea lampreyhickory shad), but if you think you know everything there is to know about brown trout, you probably don't. I know I don't. But my quest to learn as much about every species I fish for as possible has lead me down some very interesting paths when it comes to Salmo trutta. There are a lot of misconceptions about, well, almost every fish people like to fish for, but definitely for brown trout. This won't follow the same format as my other species profile posts, but it seeks to do the same thing: teach.

So, let's dive on in.


Fish of Many Flavors

Brown trout come in many different shapes, sizes, colors, and behaviors. Throughout their native range in Europe and North Africa, different brown trout populations had a lot of time in a variety of very different habitats to evolve into different strains, sometimes even in the same bodies of water. The amount of genetic variation in the brown trout species is staggering, and so obvious there were times when different strains or groups of strains were considered species onto themselves. In Carl Linnaeus' Systema Naturea in 1758,  three different species were described that today all fall under the singular species, Salmo trutta. Salmo trutta described sea run brown trout, Salmo fario described fluvial brown trout, and Salmo lacustris described lake dwelling brown trout. Other biologists deemed the differences in strains between bodies of water or even the same lakes different enough to be worthy of species or subspecies ranking. Now, the field is a lot less crowded, and we are left with different named strains, like Loch Leven, Seeforellen, Iijoki, and Ferox, to name just some. Each have their own characteristics and even their own behaviors. Which brings me to our first two common misconception: that coloration can in any way be used to determine if a brown trout is wild or stocked, and that all U.S. trout came from "German browns". 
I've been told before that all wild trout will have numerous red spots, buttery yellow color, blue cheeks, and other different permutations and color related nonsense, none of it true. Throw it all out the window. Not all trout we have here in the U.S. are from the same strain, and interbreeding between strains has even further added to the variety of patterns. Not all wild trout have red spots. Loch Leven strain fish rarely if ever do. They are also very often almost silver in coloration outside of spawning time, looking the furthest thing from "buttery yellow". Most sea run brown trout carry the same features, but not all do. My only sea run brown trout wasn't in spawning dress, I caught it in May, but it did have red spots. Or rather, what would have been red spots on a fish that hadn't up until recently spent all of its time in salt water. This fish's spots were a starling purple, and had no halos around them.  Germanic brown trout usually do have red spots, but not all of them do either, wild or stocked. Basically, we've got trout here from Scotland, Germany, England, and Finland, and maybe even more places; they all look different, they all interbreed, and there's no such thing as a rule when it comes to identifying whether a fish is wild or not based on color alone. All of the photos that follow are of wild fish. Look at the variety of different colors and physical features. 



















Going Rogue

Giant wild brown trout aren't common, but they are more widespread than some anglers think, and they are often living right under our noses in the places we'd least expect them. Brown trout are restless creatures. As much time as they spend sitting on a lie they also just move around. Be it to look for food, cooler water, better spawning territory or just feed their urge to spread to new waters, brown trout can cover a lot of distance and often end up in places that don't fit what those who don't know any better think of as trout habitat. If a watershed has cold, oxygenated water in one or two places, good spawning conditions, and was historically stocked with brown trout, somewhere there are a few huge wild or holdover browns that just don't get caught, because nobody thought outside the box enough to find and fool them. Almost every year someone catches a large brown somewhere "unusual" in CT and it briefly gets some people talking, but it never goes far. And I'm a little glad it doesn't because there can only be so many people out there hunting rogue browns without making things more difficult, but there's a reason people don't. It's really, really, really hard. These fish are rare. They are big. They are smart. And they don't follow the rules. They often occupy urban water, places where shopping carts and used needles are just as common as the trout themselves, and much more easy to come in contact with. The fish are often piscivorous, often absurdly so, feeding on adult herring, large fallfish, even stocked trout. And they are also almost exclusively nocturnal. If you don't have the wherewithal to play the game, don't even bother trying. But if you are crazy like me, and want to catch a truly big wild or holdover trout, 24-30 inches and possibly touching 10lbs or even more, follow these simple rules and put in the time. It will probably take years to get the monster, but it is worth it. 

1: Select overlooked water.
On rivers with well known stretches, TMA's, or WTMA's, go downstream. You may even have to leave that river for the one it empties into. Go the furthest down you can and still have water that isn't just conducive to holding trout but catching trout, and those do not always go hand in hand. There may be some really big trout in places you just won't be able to fly fish effectively. Focus on the places you can. The water doesn't have to be within a trout's ideal range all year, in fact, all the better if it isn't. There just needs to be somewhere nearby for the trout to go to find cold water when it s needed. Think creek mouths on big rivers, dams, pinch points in coves, bridges in frog water stretches, and riffles or runs in otherwise deep, slow, big water. 

2: Find baitfish. 
If there isn't a ton of small or small-ish fish for your trophy rogue trout to eat, he's not going to be there. In CT, I look at seven fish species as the best indicators when looking for giant browns. American shad, river herring, menhaden, fallfish, white suckers, common shiners, and sculpins. American shad and menhaded are important in late summer or early fall, river herring are important in spring, late summer and early fall, and the rest are important year round. Find where the biggest concentrations of protein are and you'll likely find large browns.

3: Fish at night.
Spring, summer, winter, fall, fishing at night will put you at far better odds at catching big rogue browns. 

4: Just don't stop.
These fish will wear you down if you let them. Don't stop hunting, put your time in and you will get that one fish. I've not gotten mine yet but I've come really damn close a couple of times. It will happen. Persistence is key.

Where Obsession Leads to Destruction

Our love of brown trout as anglers has lead to some serious ecological problems. Throughout the places they've been introduced, brown trout have been responsible for decimating a variety of native populations, from the galaxiids of New Zealand and Australia to different trout species in the Western U.S. Though there is no escaping the fact that brown trout are here to stay, they shouldn't actually be here. We are responsible for preventing them from being spread further and, wherever feasible, extirpating them to restore endangered or threatened native species. Brown trout are spectacular animals, but so is every species we destroyed by introducing them. The ease with which sportsman slip into a one track mind is dangerous and disturbing. Brown trout are great, but don't ignore everything else. 

If you enjoy what I'm doing here, please share and comment. It is increasingly difficult to maintain this blog under dwindling readership. What best keeps me going so is knowing that I am engaging people and getting them interested in different aspects of fly fishing, the natural world, and art. Follow, like on Facebook, share wherever, comment wherever. Also, consider supporting me on Patreon (link at the top of the bar to the right of your screen, on web version). Every little bit is appreciated! Thank you to my Patrons, Erin, David, john, and Christopher, for supporting this blog.

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

Speed Fishing WTMA

Sometimes you just don't have time to fish for very long. What do you do? Just not bother? Kick back and relax for a little while instead? That's not me. I have to fish. If it has to be rushed, I can move pretty fast. I am confident enough to know that I can almost always make the right moves to get it done in a short time window. Such was the case yesterday, on a small stream I have fished a fair bit but certainly don't really "know" yet. It isn't a difficult fishery though either. I had a stretch in mind that I wanted to hit and I knew that in the amount of time I had I'd have to cover it systematically but very, very quickly. If I had to run between spots, so be it. I was covering everything I wanted to.




The fly I chose was an Ausable Ugly, sz. 10, the best all around nymph/micro streamer I've ever fished, and I was fishing it on a mono rig with a dacron indicator of my own design and a 28 inch 5x tippet length. The rod, a 9ft 5wt, which seems overkill, but there are substantial fish in this water and I've been burned before with lighter tackle that couldn't keep them out of the cuts and wood. In the end, I am not a fan of fine wire hooks and super long, light rods, which were designed for keeping small fish from shaking off and preserving fine tippets. That's not my game. I often shake fish off intentionally and if I'm fishing 7x, it's certainly not with a subsurface presentation. Loosing a bunch of average or below average fish won't phase me and I like to be able to basically skate in a 16 incher if push comes to shove. And I land a bunch of small fish anyway. Like this guy:


I covered a half a mile of water relatively thoroughly. I skipped a bit because I knew fore sure someone had just fished it, but I hit pretty much everything I wanted to. The ugly did it's job, by it on the swing or dead drifting. I got a couple decent little fish. One was really pretty.





All in all it was a productive little outing. It wasn't ideal, even though it wasn't that warm I ended up sweating, but I sure as hell wouldn't have traded it for just not going.

If you enjoy what I'm doing here, please share and comment. It is increasingly difficult to maintain this blog under dwindling readership. What best keeps me going so is knowing that I am engaging people and getting them interested in different aspects of fly fishing, the natural world, and art. Follow, like on Facebook, share wherever, comment wherever. Also, consider supporting me on Patreon (link at the top of the bar to the right of your screen, on web version). Every little bit is appreciated! Thank you to my Patrons, Erin, David, and Christopher, for supporting this blog.

Monday, March 25, 2019

Oddities After Dark: Redfin Pickerel at Night

  I made it a priority this year to start night fishing trout rivers regularly very early. I had initially committed myself to starting as soon as nights we consistently above freezing. But with all the amphibian action already, I knew there was a chance I'd get into fish even before that. I've caught trout in March hacking up partly digested salamanders in frogs. I had no reason to wait until it got warmer.

Saturday night, a little cold, the river was a little high and off-color for my tastes, but I was going to night fish. The water was 40 degrees and I thought I might be able to move some big browns.



Before dark I laid into some stocker rainbows. It was good to knock the skunk off before dark. Though I was hopeful, I wasn't certain I'd get on fish. So, though they weren't what I wanted, I wasn't going to be annoyed about them.

After dark, I started with a large, black, unweighted Heifer Groomer. I worked the flats, back eddies, and around wood structure. That failing, I  switched to a mouse. It was quite cold. I was getting ice in the guides. While I walked between spots my fly froze solid. I wasn't hearing anything going on. Even in December I've heard night action here, so I know temperature wasn't the issue. I just don't think the flow was right. I wasn't getting the kind of drifts I wanted. I know when I'm being forced to fish to fast, and I was absolutely not fishing slowly enough on this night. 




I didn't move squat. I fished until 11:00. In between pools I spent a lot of time seeing what I could see in thew shallows. Don't just use your light to see where you're going and choose and tie new flies. You could easily miss noticing the key to the night if you don't occasionally turn your light on. Obviously, don't do it in the spot you intend to fish, but between spots, point your light into the shallows and see what's swimming around. 




What Saturday night lacked in warmth, Sunday night wasn't going to. So I was going out again. But it was very different water and a very different game. Smaller mice, big nymphs, and big wetflies were going to be the name of the game. 




I fished a couple deep pools initially, but most of this stream is pocked water and I had a feeling big trout would slide in and out of the more slow pockets on the sides of the stream to hunt. I worked these pockets carefully with the mouse, slapping it down as though it were jumping from one rock the swimming across to the next. It was challenging work in the dark. And man was it ever dark last night. Though we had a near full moon it was completely cloudy. Add to that steep canyon walls and hemlocks and I was working about as close to blind as was possible for this game. An hour in something slashed at the mouse. I set the hook, and at first though I had missed the fish. I turned on my light though and got was shocked to see a fat, gravid, 10 inch redfin pickerel just barely hooked on my mouse. While I struggled to get out my camera it managed to silently slip away. I was left annoyed that I had managed to miss what was likely a once in a lifetime occurrence. 

I continued downstream, failed to find any more willing fish, and spent a little time catching macroinvertebrates. 



Going back upstream, I nymphed. For an hour and a half, nothing. Then, something. A very small trout, I thought. But it wasn't. It was another gravid American pickerel. Unbelievable. I've never even seen one in this stream, which I've been fishing for years. Pickerel are also pretty much exclusively diurnal feeders. Targeting them at night is essentially pointless. I've caught one chain pickerel at night. And now, on the same night, two redfin pickerel. I doubt I could do so intentionally, honestly. 
I have been less excited had I caught two 18 inch brown trout. 

 E. americanus americanus



Having caught anything at all, and especially something pretty atypical, I am even more inclined to night fish trout streams in the coming weeks. I'll be night fishing a bunch soon anyway, with the river herring knocking at our door. Things are about to blow wide open, and it can't happen soon enough. I'm getting pretty trout-sick. I crave variety. 

If you enjoy what I'm doing here, please share and comment. It is increasingly difficult to maintain this blog under dwindling readership. What best keeps me going so is knowing that I am engaging people and getting them interested in different aspects of fly fishing, the natural world, and art. Follow, like on Facebook, share wherever, comment wherever. Also, consider supporting me on Patreon (link at the top of the bar to the right of your screen, on web version). Every little bit is appreciated! Thank you to my Patrons, Erin, David, and Christopher, for supporting this blog.

Friday, March 22, 2019

Mouse Eaters and Salamander Larvae

I've whipped out the mouse a handful of times already this year. Most days it was a mediocre producer. It just wasn't moving many fish. They hadn't been in the river long enough to be very hungry and the water was cold. I needed just one before the snow melted, and fortunately I got it, so I could take this photo:

Time: middle of the day. Foreground: trout with big mouse in his maw. Background: snow. Not as cool as my big snowstorm brookie on a mouse in 2017, but mice, trout, snow, and daylight generally don't mix in most fly anglers' minds.
Then came yesterday. The fish were on. I had to work the pocket water, the fish that haven't already been caught were the ones really willing to move up, but my numbers weren't bad. Six on the mouse. A slow, steady pick. My hookup ratio was phenomenal, actually. I only missed two fish. Normally I'd have to flip that ratio.





A very uniquely intact dorsal on a stocker bow.



It was supposed to rain at some point during the day here. It didn't. I fished in quite dry conditions hoping to see some drops. Why? I was anticipating some amphibian movement after dark. Noah and I went out late to look for spotted salamanders and it hadn't even showered yet. With the ground still dry, we went to search the edges of vernal pools. We found salamanders, but not spotteds.



Noah and I found, among the giant cased caddis, crayfish, fairy shrimp, and assorted water bugs, larval marbled salamanders. This was my first time getting to see a larval mole salamander up close and it was awesome.

Marbled salamanders have a unique life history compared to many amphibians. Their reproductive methods are surprising. Unlike their more famous cousin, the spotted salamander, and most of the rest of North American amphibians, Ambystoma opacum drop their eggs under rotting logs, bark, or leaf litter in the dry bottoms of vernal pools in the fall. After the pools fill back up and the water slowly begins to warm, their larvae emerge. Right now, as the pools are loosing their last bits of ice in central CT, larvae marbled salamanders are swimming around in the leaf litter. They look more like fish than they do a mole salamanders, dodging giant water beetles and crayfish, munching on small fairy shrimp, swimming around in water that other amphibian species haven't even really started to lay their own eggs in yet. What a remarkable species!

Eventually it did begin to rain, so we left the trails and took to the streets, driving slowly and stopping when we saw something of an amphibious nature. Well, we ended up stopping a lot. Very cold, stiff, slow spring peepers and wood frogs were all over the place. Salamanders though, were curiously absent. Maybe it was just a little to cold. Or maybe, had we stayed out longer, they would have made an appearance. Who knows?
Pseudacris crucifer



Lithobates sylvaticus
If you enjoy what I'm doing here, please share and comment. It is increasingly difficult to maintain this blog under dwindling readership. What best keeps me going so is knowing that I am engaging people and getting them interested in different aspects of fly fishing, the natural world, and art. Follow, like on Facebook, share wherever, comment wherever. Also, consider supporting me on Patreon (link at the top of the bar to the right of your screen, on web version). Every little bit is appreciated! Thank you to my Patrons, Erin and Christopher, for supporting this blog.