Fall Streamers

Yesterday I dedicated a morning to trying out a rig I've been meaning to fish with for a while- a sinking poly leader, streamer and nymph dropper. This being late October, there's only one open stream nearby, so I hit the East Branch at sun up. I love fishing there in the early morning. The crowds have yet to appear and everything just feels fresh and full of possibility. It was cold, in a bracing kind of way that fills you with energy. I was already feeling pretty good about this outing.

I rigged up a black wooly bugger with a green copper john and stripped it through a run that spills into a deep hole.  It didn't take long for a rainbow to grab the streamer and make a break for it. I felt comfortable putting a little pressure on him, I was rigged up with 4X- so I brought it to the net pretty easily. Well, I guess the poly leader works. I fished my way through a few more runs, trying different ways of fishing the streamer. I seemed to have the most luck with a dead drift- it was like nymphing without an indicator or split shot. I caught some nice little rainbows, and a brown that fought so wildly I actually wondered what the hell was on the end of my line until I saw it. Spirited little guy. As it got later and sun was getting higher the fish seemed less active . I made my way downstream and saw a couple guys fishing the two runs I had my sights on. Time to move on.

I still had some time to fish, so I drove down to a lower section that seems to get less traffic. One part in particular has some deep runs and pools that I wanted to check out. I'm glad I did. The very first cast connected with a sturdy fish that put the 4x to the test. At this moment I was not missing the intense anxiety that comes with 6x tippet and a big fish. I felt pretty confident I would land this one and it was so much fun to be able to firmly lead it upstream without fearing that dreadful pop and then nothingness that has plagued me this season. Nonetheless, I was still very relieved to get it in the net. It was a fat 16" rainbow with a gorgeous magenta slash and gill plate. Just a beautiful creature. It felt good to watch it swim away. This was the rare kind of day where things went as planned and the fish were in a cooperative mood. I felt uncharacteristically fulfilled with the morning I'd had. I packed up and went home. 

Rules and Conditions

They say to never fish during a full moon. Or is it always fish during a full moon? And who are "they" anyway? I really can't answer any of these questions, as a Friday trip to the Farmington made clear. Friday happened to be the day of a full moon and also a picture perfect day to fish (see photo). And after last time, I was feeling somewhat confident that this could be a good day of fishing on a blue ribbon stream. But, for some reason things just seemed off. Having generally fished less than I'd like to these days, I felt a bit rusty. Even when I warmed up I still felt clumsy. And it seemed that the trout were not interested in eating much of anything. The only fly that brought a couple fish to the net was a tiny little blue wing olive wet (size 22) that I tied on as a dropper. This fly is just a few wraps of green thread that form a minuscule body and a hint of a wing- but apparently it doesn't go unnoticed. Aside from a small brown and a gorgeous little rainbow, this fly also hooked the biggest fish of the day- which unfortunately made quick work of my 6x tippet. But I won't get into that. What was really kind of shocking was the late afternoon caddis hatch that sent hundreds of little tan sets of wings fluttering around without a rise in sight. Not a single one of them fell victim to a trout. And this was in a spot that I'm certain holds many fish. Very strange. Normally I'd chalk this all up to my own shortcomings as an angler- but no one else there seemed to be doing any better. Except for that guy using bait with the stringer of rainbows. I won't get into that either.

Weather and solunar tables have always been something I've had a hard time putting any faith in. For example, I have a beautiful antique fisherman's barometer that my wife gave me as a gift that claims to tell you when the fishing is best. Which is supposedly when the pressure is high or rising. Well, this happens to be the complete opposite of current theories that claim the reverse. I understand technology has advanced a little since this thing was made- but I can't quite account for a complete 180 on the science here. In my own experience, here in modern times, I definitely have had better fishing during the low pressure that precedes a storm or heavy rain. But not always. And I've also read that prolonged periods of high pressure can create ideal conditions for fishing. Ok then. And I can't even begin to speculate about moon phases and fishing. I have a handy little iPhone app that shows the best days of the month to fish based on the moon phase. Guess which day was rated the absolute best day for fishing this month? You guessed it: Friday.

"They" also say the best time to fish is when you can. And as my life gets more complicated, I can certainly get behind that sentiment. It's probably the only reliably true thing that can be said about this pursuit. And I'm still glad I fished on Friday, it was a fantastic day even if the fishing was slow. But, I sure could do with some consistent information on the subject of what makes fish active or not when it comes to conditions. If any of you guys have some illuminating experience with this, or otherwise, tell us about it in the comments.

Last Call at the Amawalk

My apologies for the lack of posts in recent weeks. Between a demanding new job and trying to prepare for the birth of our first child there hasn't been much free time for fishing. And honestly, the little fishing I have managed to fit in hasn't been much to write about. For whatever reasons, fall never seems to be the productive fishing time for me that it seems to be for others. I'm still hoping to get in a few good days before winter arrives and parenthood takes over, so don't give up on me just yet.

This past week was closing time for many of our streams, so I felt it was my duty to visit the Amawalk one last time. This stream was a real favorite of mine this year and it produced one of my best browns. So, on a beautiful Sunday I took the morning to hike and fish the lower section that leads to the Muscoot reservoir. The reason they close the Amawalk so early, I'm told, is to protect the spawning trout that enter the stream from the reservoirs.  My goal was to encounter some of these guys pre-spawn, so I wanted to make it as close to the reservoir as I could. I fished all my favorite runs and pools along the way downstream, but they were totally unproductive. I tried a variety of nymph rigs and streamers, but there were no signs of life to be seen or felt. I kept moving, further than I'd ever ventured before, until I reached the water where the current just about stopped before it enters the Muscoot. And that's where the fish were. I could see several large browns darting through the shallow slow water, somewhat aimlessly. They didn't seem to be feeding, just kind of passing through. I crept up as stealthily as I could and carefully put down my dry dropper rig in the lazy current. Amazingly, it didn't spook any fish, but as it crept into their space they bolted when they saw the nymph dropper approaching. Wow. There was no way I'd be catching any of these fish, they were clearly on high alert and not looking for a meal. It was definitely disappointing to have walked that far, found the fish and then been turned down- but it was a beautiful day and I hadn't seen another soul. Sometimes being out there is as important as the fishing to me and I was still grateful I'd taken in one last perfect day at the Amawalk. I did catch some tiny little browns on the long hike back up, but even if I hadn't I still wouldn't have felt any less satisfied. I'm already looking forward to springtime and returning to this idyllic little stream. I might even bring my son.