Saturday, August 23, 2014

Fall makes an early entrance

The weather this week took on a fall-like look with highs in the 60s, drizzly days and foggy mornings. Some trees are starting to take on red colors, especially those in wet areas. The cooler weather has helped stream temperatures retreat from the upper 60s into the lower 60s, good news for the fish. The inch of rain we received, however, has not done much for the smaller streams which continue to trickle north toward Lake Superior.

Hoppers remain the go-to fly for brook trout as they are looking up for that meaty meal even on rainy days. Larger rainbows and browns have been hard to come by, despite near-perfect streamer and nymph weather.

I fished with Tom this week and found clear evidence of that fishing report. Our morning resulted in a lot of water covered with streamers and nymphs for little reward, our mid-day garnered many nice brook trout on hoppers, and our late day on skinny water found us challenged by small brook trout that would only eat size 20 Adams Parachutes. Fortunately Tom was a superb caster and quick study who endured the lulls and relished the mid-day flurry of activity. 

The next month promises to provide a rainbow of colors courtesy of the trees and the brook trout, both of which will soon be sporting their fall colors.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Beginner's luck only strikes once

As a fishing guide the word beginner can have a number of different meanings, the most likely to come to mind is that it’s going to be a long day untying mistakes and retying flies. Western guides are used to it as beginners show up in the fly shop dressed to kill in Orvis gear and ready to experience The River Runs Through It. However in my neck of the woods, where a common bumper sticker reads “The Upper Peninsula. Where the Middle of Nowhere is Somewhere,” beginners aren’t usually part of the guiding game.

I have known Jeff for a couple of years, as he is a local contractor who has built a couple of buildings for me. During our last project together, he expressed an interest in learning to fly fish and we spent one lunch break with an impromptu fly-casting lesson. Jeff is one of those few genuinely nice people you meet in life and I really looked forward to fishing with him. Before we parted ways, he told me to call him when I had a day off.

With the hopper bite in full bloom, I called Jeff late last week to see if he had time in his schedule to do a bit of fishing.  One of the first things you should learn is that if a contractor can show up right away, he’s not the person to hire. Jeff, who is always busy, said he had to work Saturday morning but would be interested in a trip after he got done with work. He showed up with job trailer in tow and an old fiberglass rod his dad had used, a 7/8 weight that would have been fine if we had been looking to fish steelhead but was a wee bit overkill for the brook trout we were targeting.

Following a relatively short hike to the stream (relatively in these parts means a half mile), a quick refresher course in casting, and ten casts, Jeff had hooked his first trout on a fly rod. He nearly fell backwards into the stream in the excitement of it all, but the enthusiasm he openly showed said it all … another fly angler had been born.

We fished three more hours, during which Jeff caught any number of brook trout approaching 12 inches. He did eventually make the literal plunge and I’m not sure if the look on his face was a look of panic or surprise at the 11-inch fish on the end of his line (which he did land once I pulled him up from the sitting position as water ran into his waders). He marveled, as we all do, even those who have caught hundreds of fish, at the slow, methodical rise of trout to his hopper and the ear-to-ear grin he wore as we stepped out of the river said it all. My only thought was to offer two apologies … one to his wife and the other to his bank account. 

As for the fishing, it continues to be great. Big fish are chasing streamers even in the mid-day heat. That heat and the lack of rain has some streams approaching the critical 70-degree mark so carry a thermometer and find another stream if the one you are on gets too warm. I did that Sunday night and chased muskies for the first time with a fly rod. I didn’t catch any fish, but did have a heart-stopping follow by a nice fish. I just wish I would have had Jeff’s beginner’s luck but alas, that luck only struck once.


Sunday, August 3, 2014

No time for my waders to dry

It’s hard to believe that August is already upon us. Gone are the God-awful mosquito hordes of June and the jumbo-jet sized horseflies of early July. The deer flies of mid-July are still an occasional annoyance, although easy to deal with given the memory of insects past.

The fishing, as of late, has been lights out depending upon the river you have chosen for the day. Despite steady rains, some rivers have reached their low point and the clear waters have made even the most fly-friendly trout spooky. The lower flows, however, have made the larger rivers much more accessible to the wade angler … provided you know the river, as one misstep can lead to sheer panic or worse.

On those rivers, mornings have provided the proverbial “Zero to Hero” opportunity, where an inch more or less on a cast can have you hooked on a log or battling a trout thick in the shoulders and mad as hell. Fish in the upper teens, pushing twenty inches, are now showing up in the net. Afternoons have meant hoppers and non-stop action with sizeable brook trout.

I had the pleasure of fishing with Kirk on Saturday, another of several Trout Unlimited members I have guided who volunteer countless hours to protect our cold-water resources.  We began the day on a lower stretch of one of our rivers known to give up big fish and that it did. Kirk hooked and landed two impressive rainbows in the upper teens and (sorry to reveal this Kirk) hooked a monster brown that did everything a big fish does to escape. The 20-plus inch fish’s first ploy was an impressive leap to what seemed like face level followed immediately by a run to the only piece of wood nearby, a four-inch chunk sticking nearly vertical from the river bottom to about one foot out of the water. Not much was said after it released itself on that piece of wood. We simply savored the perfect cast, drift and hook set that led to the encounter. Neither angler nor guide did anything wrong … the fish just won the battle. The afternoon was filled with ravenous brook trout approaching a foot, all of which were eager to chase a hopper or a bushy stonefly attractor. We lost count of the number of fish brought to hand, always a good sign of how the day went. 

The start of August has truly been special and one can only believe that the madness will continue. It’s going to be a long time before my waders get a chance to dry.