Of Worms, Bullheads, and Salamanders

Some people get their inner little kid smothered not long after they are no longer little kids. The pressures to grow up aren't always a good thing, and sometimes they are enough to kill curiosity, wonder, and the urge to explore. Some people just don't hold on to that. I was lucky: my parents, my friends, many of the teachers I had in school... they encouraged me, directly or indirectly, to stay curious and excited about learning. And because of that, the same little kid in me that wanted to go to an aquarium or on a whale watch for my birthday instead of having a party at Chuck-E-Cheese or something is still alive and well. Few are the days when at some point he doesn't whisper "let's go play". That little kid is just a giddy as ever on a warm, rainy spring night that might bring out some amphibians.

Plethodon cinereus, red-backed salamander

Ambystoma maculatum, spotted salamander

Ambystoma opacum, marbled salamander

Wet, rainy spring nights bring out a lot more than salamanders. I've been pleased to see a lot of bats lately, and more than a few barred owls have swooped low over my head, so close I felt their presence before I saw them. Turtles have been showing themselves more and more. American and Fowler's toads have emerged and are making their shrill calls from pond and river edges, not far from pickerel frogs which are making a much deeper, almost groan like call. I don't find many Fowler's toads, which can be easily distinguished by looking at the number of warts on their dorsal dark spots. American toads will have one, maybe two, in each spot. Fowler's will have three or more. American toads also get a bit larger.

Anaxyrus americanus, American toad

Lithobates catesbeianus, American bullfrog

Lithobates clamitans, green frog

It isn't just herps, birds of prey, and flying insectivorous mammals out either... worms have been escaping their flooding homes en masse. The amount I saw the other night as the rain tapered off was staggering. And it gave me an idea.

At 3:00 a.m. on a rainy spring night, I sat in the wet grass, watching for my rod to bend. And it did, a great deal, a bunch of times. And it was pure joy.

The same little kid in me that loves salamanders and frogs, and exploring the woods in the night also has never lost the pure joy that comes when a bullhead confidently swims off with with a night crawler. And that is so important to me. I don't care how many species I catch, how many big fish on the fly, how many places I've been; if I can ever say that I never want to catch a farm pond bullhead on a worm again, or venture out to look for frogs, toads, and salamanders... I will have lost that little kid, and my life will no longer be everything that I value about it now. 

Simple, exciting, strange, and full of things to learn. 

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.

Generosity

I count myself pretty lucky these days. Not because of my limited obligations and immense amount of fishing time, which, though I'm thankful for, isn't as glamorous as some would lead you to believe. Fishing is hard work if you actually want to make something more of it than just leisure. It can be physically taxing and emotionally aggravating. It isn't always fun. But the times when it is make up for the times when it isn't.

Last Friday, with the ambient blue-grey light of twilight fading away, I got to have a little fun in place of frustrations that have plagued me for a few years now. On my part time home river, I have struggled to decipher the night bite. With one wild brown and a handful of stockers to show for a lot of hours put in, and daytime efforts producing big fish but not big enough fish, this river was starting to wear me down. I know it well enough to give every big brown a name, but those names aren't flattering, all being the expletives I shouted when I missed or lost one of them. The fish I got just after dark on Friday still wasn't the monster, but it validated my efforts, and, believe it or not, is the biggest wild brown I've ever caught at night, though it could have been eaten by my last night of the trip megabow on the Gallatin. She ate a variation of Domenick Swentosky's Full Pint hard on the swing. Then she tail walked three times, straight at me, before becoming seemingly bound to my feet. I seriously couldn't get her away from me for a good five minutes, despite all sorts of kicking, stomping, and dancing in circles. It was an absurd fight, but one I happily won. A gorgeous, silvery Loch Leven strain brown trout, a little shy of 20, with a lot more weight than the average specimen, made my night. A few quick shots in the dark didn't do her stuperb bulk any justice at all. Or the blue on her cheek, which was electric.

I like fat girls in pretty silver, copper, and black dresses, with blue cheeks and big attitudes. 

If there are only two things that make what I do day in and day out worth it, it's moments like that, and you folks. Having you here, inexplicably reading and enjoying my content, makes me feel very lucky. This is a small crowd here, a quite small one really. But some of you are very generous. 

A few days ago, Joe Drake, who contributes to blogflyfish, and did a profile of me and this blog there a while back, got in touch with me. He had a mini photo-tank he hadn't used and asked if I wanted it. That was a very easy 'yes'. I'd been looking to purchase one recently but hadn't pulled the trigger yet, being that it was more of a luxury than a necessity, and, inexpensive though they are, I did't have a whole lot of disposable income that I'm willing to throw down on a thing I did't consider necessary. Within days, a free photo tank was at my doorstep. 

Why would I want such a thing (I presume that most of you aren't micro fisherman and have never seen one)?

Better, more anatomically and color revealing photos of small fish. I used it just hours after I got it.

Luxilus cornutus

Rhinichthys atratulus

Thanks Joe. I will be using that an awful lot in the coming months. Hopefully some species will end up in it that nobody else has ever caught on the fly before.

And, even though its in either the header or footer of every post, I'd also like to take the time to thank everyone (all four of you) that are supporting me through Patreon. Every little bit helps. And everyone that has provided any financial support outside of the Patreon platform. And everyone that has supported this blog in any of countless other ways over its existence. Sincerely. No matter how, no matter when. Because this wouldn't be possible without it. It's hard to write a good blog post every few days, and I don't feel it's much worth doing if I'm not posting that frequently. In 2017 I lost 100's of daily views in a matter of about a month, seemingly just because I went on a 10 day trip and couldn't post anything substantial in that time. Though my writing and photography have both since improved, I don't foresee those numbers coming back. So if it weren't for the generous and kind few that have stuck with me all this time, I just don't think I could continue.

Thank you all for making this possible. It's a labor of love, with a lot of emphasis on the labor. I will keep going as long as you all let me.

My First Carp of the Year, In a Weird Way

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.

My continued quest for a 30 inch walleye has run into a slight impasse. I've been going every time the conditions have been right, and the fish have been there. But they also have gotten a lot more picky. Perhaps there isn't much of interchange of fish in this place and I'm casting over fish that have already seen my flies a dozen times? I don't know. But I do know that I've only had a couple for sure walleye takes in the last few visits.

Sander vitreus

Then, a few nights ago, with absolutely ideal conditions, I had a take that was by all means walleye like.
And then an initial fight that was, by all means, also walleye like. But big. Really big. And my first glimpse of the fish, in what little ambient light there was, it looked to me like it was a walleye of at least 34 inches and well over 10lbs. I won't lie. I was panicking. I was pretty sure this was a fish of a lifetime. But then I got my light on it....
And I laughed. It was a common carp. A pretty sizable one. And it wasn't foul hooked. It had eaten my little chartreuse and yellow streamer, on the strip, in muddy, dark water, at night. I've caught carp sight fishing in the glow of streetlights at night, and I've caught carp blind casting during the day. Friends of mine have caught carp blind at night, so I knew it was a possibility. I also knew it was extremely unlikely.
The place I was fishing had no easy landing spot for an angry, 20lb+ common carp that didn't do any long runs to use up energy, not without getting in the water. Which I wasn't about to do. And so, it was a long, frustrating, and a little annoying getting that thing to hand. But I was glad I did.

Cyprinus carpio

So, that's my first carp of the year; an accident, far later in the year than I'd typically get my first. Since night trout fishing conditions, the herring run, and some other night fishing scenarios are cropping up now, and the walleye are giving me the cold shoulder, I plan to divide my daytime fishing focus between multi species missions and carp for a while. Hopefully I can get my carp mojo back.

Searching for Sea Runs with Alan

Yesterday Alan and I went to visit some coastal streams with potential for both sea run browns and maybe a rogue sea run brookie. In fact, the first stream was chosen specifically for its salter potential.

Unfortunately, it seems that all that prevents this from being a prolific salter stream is one small, useless dam. It has the advantage of running through mostly private and very restricted power plant property, and being small enough that most wouldn't give it so much as a glance anyway. It does have land locked brookies, but we couldn't get to them legally. And I wouldn't at all be surprised if, from time to time, one or two got stuck downstream from the dam and were forced into a salter lifestyle. 

The next stream we payed a visit to is known for it's sea run brown trout, but has some brookies as well, though no documentation of a sea run brook trout has come from it any time recently. Cormorants rained on our parade there. I hooked and lost one small brown trout, either wild or an Iijoki. Which, I do not know, for I did not get a good enough look. Down river, alewives were running strong. The dark bottom and tannin stained water made photographing the live fish difficult, so I scooped up a dead one. 

The next stream, not far away, has a far more robust wild trout population. This one was the true gem find of the day. We will both be visiting it again. I alternated between a purple leach and an Ausable Bomber. The streamer took the lions share, a half dozen brookies and one sizable brown, which clearly ate the fly but came free and then got hooked in a ventral fin. But the bomber took the prettiest fish in that stream, a remarkable looking brown with huge dark spots and fantastic gold coloration. That fish fought remarkably well, doing stunning high jumps and tail walks. That fish alone settled it: I had to revisit this place. 

 

  

Salmo trutta

Dark, tannin stained streams make dark fish.

On the way back towards home, we stopped at another stream, one I'm much more familiar with and have fished for years. Lately, it seems to producing a lot of gorgeous but smaller than average brookies... like this one:

Salvelinus fontinalis

This is contrary in a lot of other streams in the are, which, for the last two years, have been lacking in younger year classes. Why this stream differs I do not know. Another thing that's different about it but shared by a stream directly opposite it in the same drainage is an abundance of dace and common shiners. And they're getting active now. So, I decided to catch some. I got three species, actually. Eastern blacknose dace, fallfish, and common shiner. It was a nice little breakaway from the trout fishing. The tanago hooks are bringing home the bacon, I caught my smallest dace ever! I can't wait to get to some water with new micro species. 

Luxilus cornutus

Semotilus corporalis

Rhinichthys atratulus

When we got back to the car, we found it covered in brown stoneflies, all females carrying and depositing eggs on the shiny surface. 

I love spring.

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.

Micro Fishing Time!

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.

As things warm up more and more, my mind is wandering to thought of new species and new waters. Rock gunnels, central mudminnows, different sticklebacks, redhorse, swamp darters... there is a lot that I want and I want it soon. Some of the species on my list are pretty tiny. And so I may as well get back into the micro-fishing mindset so I don't miss out on any opportunities that come my way. With properly "springy" weather today, it was as good a time as any. With tanago hook (thank you tenkara bum) flies, some bits of soft plastic, split shot, and my trusty 6'6" rod, I went to visit some ditches.

I was pretty sure I could expect the typical assortment of sun fishes at the first spot and that's exactly what I got. Pumpkinseeds and bluegills. I had hoped for fathead minnows but saw no cyprinids of any kind, just micro sunfish. 

Lepomis gibbosus

Lepomis macrochirus

Lepomis gibbosus

In transit to the next location, which was actually more of a stream than a ditch, I found a small snapping turtle presumably bypassing a mill dam via land. I was very pleased to see him. He was less than pleased to see me. He was a pretty chill dude anyway.

Chelydra serpentina

When I got where I was going I was hoping I would be able to get an upgrade on my current only longnose dace, which wasn't the best example of the species. Indeed they were there, but the backnose dace were both more abundant and more willing. I caught a fair number of that species there but nothing else. 

Rhinichthys atratulus

Though not overly productive, that was a nice little outing to get out and warm up some muscles that haven't been exercised since Noah and I got back from Florida. I do plan to get out and do some more micro fishing fairly soon. I've gone far to long without adding a new species to my life list. 

Species Profile: Lake Chubsucker

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. 

I'm in a rather unique position for writing this "Species Profile" installment. Erimyzon sucetta is an interesting little fish. It rarely ever gets caught. There are two life listers that I know of that have caught a lake chubsucker: Jessel Sanchez (instagram) and a friend of his who I only know as Species Spotlight (instagram). They both caught theirs on bait in the same location. Then there's me. On the 29th of December, just after sunrise, in a little ditch outside of Jupiter, Florida, I became the first person on record to catch a lake chubsucker on the fly. I didn't even know what a lake chubsucker was before that trip, though creek chubsuckers are on my radar. But I've learned quite a bit about the species since. Certainly enough to write an accurate profile. So, lets examine one of North America's most notoriously evasive sucker species, shall we?

Lake chubsuckers belong to the genus Erimyzon with four other species. They are generally small in size, maybe reaching 10 inches, deep bodied, have a small protrusible mouth, an olive colored back, silvery to golden colored sides, and yellow to white belly. Adult males get tubercles on the head and anal fin during spawning.

Lake chubsuckers can be found in watershed from New York to Wisconsin, and down to the Gulf Coast from Texas to Florida. Though their range covers a large part of the U.S. and a bit of Canada, it has lots of gaps. Basically the entirety of the Appalachian mountain range, for example. Their preferred habitat is clean, weedy lowland swamps, lakes, and creeks. Their range reflects this: they aren't found in especially hilly places. Habitat degradation is a significant threat to the species. Mining, development, and diverting waterways put lake chubsuckers at risk. Simply changing the turbidity of a water body is enough to push this species out. They have been extirpated in a number of portions of its historical range.

Warm, clear, clean, still water with an exceptional amount of weed coverage will harbor the greatest abundance of chubsuckers. They also prefer a bottom of sand mixed with organic debris. Spawning occurs from March through July. males will clean an area of gravel or vegetation, females will disperse their eggs, and the males will then fertilize them. Individuals generally have a life span of five years. Algae, copepods, and chironomid larvae are all important food sources for lake chubsuckers, and vegetation may make up as much as 70% of their diet. 

Lake chubsuckers can be exceedingly difficult to find. So much so that the state of New York isn't even entirely certain that the species still exists there and are actively trying to locate extant populations to determine whether they have been extirpated or not. This evasiveness is one of the things that makes catching the species on hook and line very difficult. The other is that diet... vegetation eaters can be extremely picky.

A marsh in Florida inhabited by lake chubsuckers

So, do you want to catch a lake chubsucker? It may well be one of the most extraordinary challenges in angling. On, fly, on bait... any method of hook and line angling... trying to catch this species will be one of the most difficult things you ever try to do. But I do have a few pointers.

Since they are very hard to find, you need to narrow your search extensively. First, make sure you are actually looking withing their range. Then, try to get in touch with local fisheries biologists. Look for electro-fishing data. Find the places that have the highest abundance of the species. Then, look for places that have big swings in water level seasonally. You want to find scenarios that will concentrate the fish. This is probably the only reason why I caught my own lake chubsucker: we were fishing a small, deep culvert ditch in the middle of a very expansive marsh during Florida's dry season. Fish that would otherwise have been spread out through weedy water where they wouldn't have been seen were concentrated in one clear pool. This is especially necessary because you are going to need to sight fish to this species. There is no other alternative. If you can't see them, you won't catch them. 

If you've actually succeeded in finding a place with visible and very concentrated numbers of lake chubsuckers, start fishing it regularly, at different times of day, during different conditions. Dap small nymphs in front of as many fish as possible. Eventually, one might eat. Noah and I visited our little Florida ditch a bunch of times and on all but one visit the chubsuckers just weren't willing to move to anything. On that one outlying visit, I got a number of them to move to a Walt's Worm, and eventually did hook one. I wish I knew why they were willing on that visit, but there weren't any standout variables. Basically, catching a lake chubsucker is going to have to be the result of either a ton of luck or a ton of hard work. But I'd say it is worth the effort.  These are a fascinating little fish, and, like I said, probably one of the greatest challenges in the sport of angling. 

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.

Dialing in Big Walleye and Crappie

I've had the early season walleye and slab crappies on lock since The end of March. It's been really, really good, so I really haven't felt the need to do much else fishing wise on the days when the bite was going to happen. I was on the fish and on them good. But I wanted to dial in the bite a little better... I wanted a very specific fish: my biggest walleye ever. The biggest crappies were just as easy as the smaller ones, so I didn't have that much headway to make there. But I knew there were giant walleye there too, and I really wanted on.

Saturday night was so warm wearing shorts wasn't unreasonable. But it was also brighter than I would have preferred and there wasn't as much flow.  The crappies came but the 'eyes didn't. I knew they had to be there, though.

After I felt I had beat on the reef plenty long enough, I decided to see what was actually there. I hit it with my light. Sure enough, a dozen sets of big white glowing eyeballs were revealed, only to scatter quickly.

I knew what to do.

I went home. That may seem like a crazy move, but I wasn't done for the night.
I got to the vice and tied up a couple of very small, unweighted white woolly buggers.
Then I went back. I made a few test casts somewhere else to make sure the fly looked like I wanted it to in the water with my light. Then I carefully drifted that fly through every spot I'd seen a walleye sitting in before. And eventually, I saw a swirl. I lifted the rod and was on. This was not the giant I was looking for, but about the best so far.

Why did I need an unweighted, tiny little peanut of a fly? Well, I might go into that in depth one day. But not here, not now, not for free.

The next night looked even better. Good cloud cover, fog, showers, and shorts weather again. There was even less current though, so I expected the fish to be ranging throughout the area rather than holding. And that's exactly what was going on. Before sunset I beat on perch and bluegills, which was fun. But as soon as the sun went down the slabs came in and took their place.

After a few good crappies, not much happened for a little while. Then, exactly where I didn't expect them to be, I found a school of walleye. I missed one, landed a solid male, then on the next cast got my smallest ever walleye on the fly. Good start, but once again, I was looking for a brute.

And then, the surprise of the night...
A fat brown bullhead found my chartreuse bugger and ate it.

There was a pretty long nothing. But I stuck it out. My friend Rick, who is an accomplished walleye tournament angler and has fished with me at this spot the last couple of nights, had told my about a tendency for there to be staggered bites during this type of activity: fish move in right after sunset and there's a flurry activity, then about a half hour pause before they come back again. I'd noticed the same thing last summer. I had a hunch that in this spot at this time of year, that second bite would coincide with the arrival of the big females. And, a half hour after I had caught the last small male, I felt a faint pause and set into something heavy and very angry. Unlike every other walleye I'd hooked here this year, this fish took line steadily and defiantly, heading for deeper water, and on 6lb tippet I just wasn't in a position to impose my will on it right away. When I finally did turn it it responded with enormous head shakes. Yeah, this was a good fish for sure. After a grueling battle, I tailed her. When I turned my light one her and finally saw every bit of her, some expletives slipped out.
"Holy f****** s***, this is the one."
There are certainly bigger walleyes to be caught, and I've been pretty lucky to catch far more mid to high 20's fish than 20's or below, but man what a gorgeous fish this was. I have an immense respect for walleye. They are so finicky, so smart, and just so gnarly looking... I adore them. And I was just elated to get this one. It was the last of the night. And that was fine with me.

Though it was very cold and very windy the next night, I had to go back again. Once again, I caught some monster crappies after sunset.

And once again I got a smaller walleye during the first bite.
And once again I got a big female about a half an hour later.

It feels really good to know that you're on the right track. It also feels really good to hold a big, beautiful fish that was the result of hours and hours of time on the water. Hard work pays off.

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.