Bricks, Heroin, and Smallmouth Bass

There's something about urban fishing that I love. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, as I'd tell most people I love the wilderness, and being as far from other people as possible is a priority. Yet, I get a special sort of pleasure from pulling a brown trout out from behind a shopping cart, or sight casting a carp in a concrete lined canal. As such, I was perfectly comfortable walking the streets of a Massachusetts mill town with Noah and our other friend, also named Noah, fishing the sort of places where a fly rod is viewed by passers by as about as out of place as would be a man riding a camel.

We were looking for carp, but things were a little off and we weren't finding them with any regularity. We covered ground, searching those large cyprinids, but found some remarkably colored sunfishes instead.

Lepomis gibbosus

 The redbreast sunfish below is unquestionably one of the prettiest fish I have ever caught. Funny, the lowly sunfish family is responsible for some of the most visually stunning fish specimens I've laid eyes on. This natural painting was in striking contrast to the environment it was living in.

Lepomis auritus

Lepomis auritus x Lepomis macrochirus

Soon the pattern became clear, this was going to be a bass and panfish day, not a carp day. We followed an arm of the canal down to a river, and walked the walls down river looking for a way down onto the banks so we could fish what looked like some fantastic smallmouth water. Next to a homeless encampment, we found a way down. And indeed it was fantastic smallmouth water. 

Unexpectedly it was also good crappie water, some of the best I'd ever fished. We found a couple pockets of slab crappies, a few of them even worth measuring. For a little while I was on a roll, landing slab crappie after slab crappie, the biggest being a hair over 14 inches. They were fighting pretty hard for crappies too, and I've caught black crappies over 16 inches so I've got a bit of experience in the slab department. These were impressive fish. 

Though the bass we were catching weren't "slabs" really, they weren't bad in average size. I'm used to stream smallmouth averaging eight inches. We've got some good ones in some of the rivers near where I live, but often to get quantity you have to sacrifice quality and vice versa. This was more on par with the Housatonic summer smallmouth fishery, if not a little better. Stripping a woolly bugger or twitching a jig through shadow lines, pool tailouts, back eddies, and pockets produced strike after strike. My favorite catch wasn't even the biggest, it was a bass of about 11 inches in a hard to reach back eddy. I had to wade into risky territory to make my cast and hold the rod high to get any sort of a drift. And the drift I got wasn't long but it was long enough, my fly got hammered. The fish proceeded to dive straight into the fast water and bounce from rock to rock, forcing me to really work to land him. Anyone that fishes moving water smallmouth knows, these fish have heart. 

We worked our way back downstream to where we'd entered but continued to catch fish it that water we'd already covered. In fact we got into some of the fastest action right where we'd gotten down to the river, near the raccoon carcass and the heroi... er... "insulin" needles.

Like I said, there's something about urban fishing... I don't quite know what. Perhaps its the juxtaposition. Those stunning redbreast sunfish, giant crappies, and powerful smallmouth bass, living in the shadow of mills and homeless camps, next to heroin needles and shopping carts. It's interesting. And a little sketchy at times. But the luster, if you could call it that, has never diminished. I'm forever a grunge city fisherman as much as I am a wilderness angler.

There was a raccoon peeking out of there before I got the camera out.

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. 

A Stop Along the Way

This was it. On the afternoon of July 9th, Noah and I packed our things into his van, strapped on the kayaks, and headed northeast. This was going to be a hell of a journey.

But before we even got to our state of interest, we payed a visit to our friend Geoff Klane at his town of residence. Lowell, Massachusetts; where Geoff guides for different species on fly tackle in the canal system within the city. Noah and I weren't licensed and so didn't fish, but I had wanted to see this fishery for a while and also hadn't seen Geoff in a long time.

Geoff met us at a place with free parking and walked us around his home waters. It was classic urban fishing. There were places with some garbage in the water, we met some interesting characters on our circuit, and the fish were large and plentiful.

If you live in New England and carp on the fly is your thing, you really ought to visit Lowell at some point. I've fished canal type fisheries before, but they certainly aren't numerous. In some cases I've found the fish to be extremely finicky, bolting at the first sign an angler may be present. In others, the fish are used to people and used to getting fed, so they're actually pretty foolish. The Lowell carp are somewhere in between. They seemed to know that we were there, and although that didn't make them want to leave, they certainly didn't maker themselves easy. But when Geoff did get a carp to take, it was one of the most aggressive carp takes I've ever seen. The fish moved a few feet at a fair rate of speed for the fly.

Geoff also baited with dog food, which got both the carp and some bullheads worked up. It's always fun to watch either species surface feed.

The fishery in Lowell is pretty cool. It reminds me of other urban places I've fished, especially Frederick, Maryland (Connecticut Fly Angler in Maryland). We saw sunfish of a couple different species, largemouth and smallmouth bass, brown bullhead, and common carp. I definitely intend to actually fish the place some time. If you want to, I recommend hiring Geoff. He knows the place well and will put you on the fish. Beyond that, he's just a really good guy.
Check him out on www.brackishflies.com.

After a fun little afternoon, Noah and I said goodbye to our friend, left Lowell, and continued Northeast. Our adventure had just begun.

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.