Lake Champlain with Drew Price

 It had been a long time since I'd last fished Lake Champlain when I went up to buy Drew Price's canoe. Noah and I made multiple trips some years back, finding success on our own. It was Drew's blog that had originally got me interested in Champlain and it's abundance of native, bowfin, gar, freshwater drum, as well as multiple introduced species that we'd not caught. The opportunity to fish the lake with the guy that really sparked my interest in it was something I was very excited for. 

Early the morning after my arrival, Drew thought we'd have a decent shot at lake trout. This was certainly something I was excited for, as it was a species I'd not yet had good opportunities to target. Drew warned me that it wouldn't likely be great fishing, but I didn't particularly mind. The idea of targeting lakers with fly tackle in deeper water and at a time when most anglers would troll or jig instead appealed to me. We went out to explore the possibilities on a couple humps Drew had been catching on in the weeks before. We fished heavy sinking lines and big heavy flies, plumbing the depths and hoping for a hard strike. Unfortunately it never came, though I did have a smallish lake follow the fly almost to the surface, something Drew had mentioned was possible. 

After a little while and no success, it was time to switch gears and re-launch further north. The rest of the day was to be devoted to a different game in the shallows. Lake Champlain is an incredible place to sight fish, with expansive weed flats and generally clear water occupied by such a broad variety of species it will make your head spin. After just a short run from the launch, we were in a spot Drew new held a large variety of fish. In no time at all we were looking at pumpkinseeds, bluegills, yellow perch, white perch, common carp, tench, rudd, bowfin, brown bullheads, and largemouth bass. Just  short ways down the sam shoreline we began to see pike, chain pickerel, and longnose gar. At one point we saw a giant channel catfish. If variety is the spice of life this place is heaven on earth for the freshwater angler. 

The first trophy of the day was a giant pumpkinseed. I'm a big fan of these extravagantly colored native sunfish. They were being fairly picky and particularly prone to spooking, something I'm not at all used to from this species. It actually took a while to get one, but when we did it was my personal best.

Even more abundant than large pumpkinseeds were the brown bullheads. I've never seen so many bullheads. They were everywhere, poking their heads out of nests they'd dug in the mud bottom. At times as many as six or seven of them were visible at once. One of the nice things about bullheads: generally, if you get a fly in front of their face, they are going to take it. They were much easier than the pumpkinseeds. They were easy enough that I caught more than one of them blind casting. That has certainly happened to me before, I've caught many bulheads on the fly over the years, probably more than most fly anglers could expect. But I'm not sure I've ever caught more than one blind casting in a day, and I got three this time on top of the small bunch I sight cast to. 

The highlight of the trip was a 25 minute time window in which we put some serious trophies on the boat, all on a Gamechanger Craw. Initially for that window, I was on the poling platform. We were looking for the giant channel catfish we'd seen earlier in the day, but not finding it. I spotted a good sized largemouth though, and Drew was able to drop the fly on it and it smoked it. It was an incredibly stout fish.

Seemingly just moments after releasing that fish we spotted a big bowfin. This was a fantastic opportunity for me to watch the bowfin master do what he does oh so well. I somehow managed to pole well and got the boat in a good position, and the fish followed the script. The eat was spectacular. The fight was spectacular. The fish was spectacular. 

Then I was up to bat, and we went to look for a huge bass we'd seen a bit before. When I laid eyes on her and saw that she was stationary and her body language was relaxed, I knew I had her. I sank the Changer Craw in front of her, letting it fall right to the bottom, then gave it one little move and she inhaled it. The fight was short, largemouth aren't exactly the strongest fish, but this was one of the largest black bass I'd caught in a long time. Ironically, after years of mostly catching largemouth incidentally rather than going out and targeting them, catching that fish has sparked a revival in my interest in the species and I've been specifically targeting them quite a bit lately. 

As the sun went down, we headed back toward the launch having put a ton a lot of fish in the boat and had just a fantastic time. I learned a lot from Drew, which I'd fully expected. It was great to finally get to fish with him, and I'm sure I will again before too long. 

If you're interested in experiencing what I did up there, that truly world class fishing, check out Drew's website and book a trip. There isn't a better guide up there. He's been in front of the curve the whole way. 

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, Franky, Geof, Luke, Noah, Justin, Sean, Tom, Mark, and Jake 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.

Goldfish On The Fly

 Goldfish are a notable and often problematic invasive species found throughout the world. They are native to East Asia, were selectively bred to create the vibrantly colored ornamental variations seen today, and spread around the world for hundreds of years. They are one of the most popular aquarium fish and one of the most widespread domesticated fish. In the wild, goldfish can cause significant problems where they are not native. They reproduce rapidly and despite often being orange and poorly suited to remaining hidden, they quickly overpopulate. Though goldfish are certainly not apex predators, their presence usually disrupts whatever ecosystem they are released in. 

I’ve encountered goldfish sporadically throughout the years in CT waters, but never any big enough to catch on the fly. Then, one day this spring, while looking for water snakes with my friend Bruce, we spotted a school of goldfish in a small public pond. I’ve since returned three times- once on my own and twice with Noah -specifically to fish for those goldfish. On the first visit I didn’t get any goldfish but I was able to determine what species were in the pond. Three that I saw were native fish: golden shiners, brown bullhead, and pumpkinseed sunfish. Two more, other than the goldfish, were invasive species: common carp and mosquitofish (whether they were eastern or western I am not sure, but western is more likely as westerns are the only of the two species so far confirmed in CT). There was only one common carp in the pond, an 18 pound or so fish likely introduced intentionally with the hopes it would do something to control weed growth. 

On the second trip, Noah and I were more strategized. We brought bread to chum in the goldfish. The golden shiners and bullheads got to it first, and we got a couple bullheads each. It took a long time for any goldfish to come around. Eventually some did. I had on a size 16 Walt’s Worm under an indicator, but interesting fish would lose interest in the fly as soon as it sank to depth and suspended. They seemed far more interested in a moving fly. This was interesting to me because I’d seen the same behavior from lake chubsucker, a North American native fish. Lake and creek chubsucker both share a nearly identical niche with goldfish and are visually, anatomically and ecologically similar; a clear example of convergent evolution. 

Eventually, I managed to get one of the two goldfish that were spending time in our baited area to take my little nymph, and after no fight at all I had lifer #178 at hand. It was certainly a pretty fish, ornately colored and lustrous. This fish was also completely unnatural: no undomesticated, uncultured, native goldfish would look anything like this, nor would such a fish be swimming in a pond in Connecticut were it not for human intervention. For some reason I really liked that little fish and felt compelled to catch more. When Noah wasn’t able to get his lifer on the first attempt, it was a good excuse for me to return for more. 

Lifelist fish #178, goldfish, Carassius auratus. Rank: Species.

On attempt two, we brought corn as well as bread. Our justification for that was how disinterested in the floating bits of bread the goldfish were and how hard it was for Noah to keep bread on the hook. Bread still helped draw in the hungry masses, and we had some goldfish come into the swim much sooner than we had the previous trip. This time I focused on golden shiners before the goldfish showed interest. I’ve become increasingly more obsessed with that species lately, as well. Unfortunately this pond seems not to hold any large ones. 

Noah got the first goldfish- a lovely wild-type. That was exactly the color expression I wanted to catch, as it would be a nice contrast with the cultured ornamental version I’d already caught. I ended up getting three goldfish on the fly: a bright orange one, another with orange and black patterning, and an almost wild looking but still fairly colorful individual. They were actually surprisingly willing to eat and even chase a nymph. If it stopped moving, they lost interest. This is of course what we’d already observed on the trip before, but it was nice to know that behavior wasn’t a fluke. 

Eventually I broke down, put on a piece of corn and caught a true wild-type. I’m not sure if these goldfish had simply been present and reproducing long enough for the more natural color genetics to arise or if some wild type individuals had been put in the pond originally. There wasn’t a notable variety of sizes, so I can’t be sure these fish are actually reproducing in that pond. 

Catching those goldfish coincided with a general urge to catch colorful cyprinids. I’ve got this strange, previously non-existent compulsion to fish for ornamental fish. Next on the list, something I’d been after for years: mirror carp. Another genetic variation cultivated for ornamental purposes. 

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

A Redfin Pickerel Mission (from back in July)

This is very late because it is. 

Rather, this is very late because I intended to but didn't fit it into the lineup with all the Maine, New Hampshire, and  other summer stuff that I prioritized, but have decided to write it now for the sake of diversity. Most of what I've done fishing wise in the last week is brook trout and striped bass. I like to use this blog to promote the awareness of less popular species, and since brook trout and striped bass are not remotely unpopular, I'll throw back to a mission to get a redfin pickerel before getting back to that stuff.

Redfin pickerel is the one species of fish I actually frequently get asked for help over. Before I was even really as up-front with my life listing endeavors I got the occasional email inquiry regarding the species (more accurately the subspecies, American pickerel is the higher classification.) I offer up what little I actually know whaen asked though I do consistently catch the species they often throw me for a loop. They are hyper aware of human presence. Though they may not appear to spook if you can see them they can see you and they probably aren't going to eat. They're supposed to be fully diurnal and yet I've now caught more than one while night fishing for trout. Their frequent preference of water just inches deep doesn't help either. Redfin pickerel are one nutty, charismatic little fish. So I do hat I can when someone asks but it's easier to show than to just tell. So when fellow lifelister Brad Rasmussen (Fish Finding) told me he was planning a trip to Southern New England and wanted to target redfin pickerel, I was quick to offer to show him the ropes on one of my local waters. I enjoy sharing this goofy little species with others. That was sometime in February I think. 

Fast forward to this July and I was meeting my new friends Brad and his girlfriend Alex near a redfin stream after they'd driven down from Quebec. Though this wasn't the only fish they'd be after on the trip, I really didn't want it to be an "everything but" outing, which it often can be here. 

It seems everything from white perch to brown bullheads can find your presentation before a redfin does in these waters, and that was almost what happened this time. It's also typically the case that if you are after any lifer, even an easy one, the first one comes harder then it ever should. Alex had never caught a redbreast sunfish, and the first hole we fished is typically just brimming with them. Of course she caught like a dozen bluegills instead. I rarely catch bluegills there. Neither Brad nor I got a redbreast out of that hole either. I hooked a snapping turtle, then a brown bullhead which I was happy with. Alex did end up getting a lifer out of that hole, but it was a largemouth bass of all things.

Brown bullhead, Ameiurus nebulosus

 Downstream we went in search of the primary target. And find them we did, though we went through all the trials and tribulations of redfin fishing. Spooked fish, fish in water to shallow effectively fish to at a distance, even one hooked and  quickly lost. But eventually we found one that was willing, one that slammed Brad's tiny jig repeatedly, got hooked, stayed hooked, then didn't escape after the hook was out. Mission success.

Esox americanus americanus

Not long after, Alex got her lifer redbreast sunfish as well.

Lepomis auritus

So I was probably as relieved if not more so than Brad. I would have been really bummed out if I hadn't gotten them on a redfin! I'd also recommended a few saltwater spots that could produce a number of other lifers, and they ended up finding something in one of them I never had. Check out Brad's post about the trip here.

Until next time.

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, john, Elizabeth, Chris, Brandon, and Christopher, for supporting this blog on Patreon.

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.

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.

Fish Like Foul Weather

Fish like feeding during less than pleasant weather. That has been proven time and time again. That doesn't mean there won't be great bites on sunny, calm days, but if you want to catch them with the best of them, fish in nasty weather.

Early in the week the northeast had a setup that was prime to explode. I was watching the weather closely a few days out, and when it came time it played out exactly they way I expected and hoped it would. It was one of the more memorable severe weather events in the northeast in recent years. As soon as I was confident it my forecast the day of, I went to fish the pre-storm bite. A strong, wet southwest wind pushed insect life into the creeks and south facing shorelines, and a darkening sky and dropping pressure had the fish worked up. I caught the biggest rockbass I've ever seen, a couple dozen perch, some bluegills, a smallmouth, and, interestingly, a bunch of largemouth.

Catching largemouth here isn't unusual, but catching five of them and only one smallmouth is pretty atypical.

As soon as the gust front of the approaching line of severe storms crested the horizon, I got into a good position to watch the show. Within 10 minutes the county was under a tornado warning. The storm was linear in nature and fast moving. I didn't have much time to work with.

Yesterday, the conditions favored stability, weather wise. It was cold, rainy, and breezy. Some species of fish will shut off under these conditions. Others will go hunting. Bullheads are one such fish, and they were hungry yesterday. I caught bluegills and bullheads on both bait and artificials in a steady, misty, uncomfortable rain.