tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-351281472024-03-13T03:55:04.134-07:00Life On The WaterUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1915631266850836622008-02-26T08:21:00.000-08:002008-04-04T08:04:26.881-07:00Tiderunners<span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VIwvHtntI/AAAAAAAAAEI/3pK-pRVez30/s1600-h/n508632840_54406_1875.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VIwvHtntI/AAAAAAAAAEI/3pK-pRVez30/s320/n508632840_54406_1875.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185130548106731218" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;">Before I was old enough to drive, and even before I had the money to buy </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" style="font-size:130%;">korkers</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> and walk out on the jetties of Indian River Inlet, I knew I loved </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" style="font-size:130%;">seatrout</span><span style="font-size:130%;">. Back in the stone age, or, more specifically the late 80's before the populations crashed we used to take charter trips to </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" style="font-size:130%;">Wachapreague</span><span style="font-size:130%;">, Va in the fall and catch small "spike" trout by the hundreds. These </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" style="font-size:130%;">seatrout</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> were easy, and I never saw one over 24 inches until I got older and began to explore other water. more specifically, before I discovered the Delaware seashore. It was on the North Jetty of the Indian River inlet that I caught my first </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" style="font-size:130%;">seatrout</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> on </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" style="font-size:130%;">terra</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" style="font-size:130%;">firma</span><span style="font-size:130%;">. I was still young and had no idea that these fish could be taken from shore. As time wore on I learned more about the inlet and it's trout. My fascination grew as I began to learn how to target the bigger ones.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VJYfHtnvI/AAAAAAAAAEY/fYp_qUZokAk/s1600-h/P1010009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VJYfHtnvI/AAAAAAAAAEY/fYp_qUZokAk/s320/P1010009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185131231006531314" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />The trips I took to Delaware started to be specifically for </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" style="font-size:130%;">seatrout</span><span style="font-size:130%;">. Most anglers are drawn to the inlet after it's </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" style="font-size:130%;">stripers</span><span style="font-size:130%;">, but I was (and am) spoiled when it comes to fishing for </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" style="font-size:130%;">stripers</span><span style="font-size:130%;">, so most of my efforts were after the mysterious </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" style="font-size:130%;">trout</span><span style="font-size:130%;">. It was always enjoyable to fish on the north jetty, I was the one guy throwing light lures on the beach side when all the tough-guy jetty-jocks flocked to the point, throwing plugs and heavy jigs with equally heavy rods, </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" style="font-size:130%;">usually</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> 50lb braid. "What you think yer gonna catch with that little rod?" was a common question posed from the striper guys. When I answered "trout", generally they'd just say "oh, them" and turn back to heaving wood and metal into the inlet<br />This mentality was pretty typical when I began to fish the inlet back in the mid 90's. The striper guys considered trout a lesser fish, though now it has changed since the trout have become so scarce that people who fish for trout are now regarded as </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" style="font-size:130%;">diehards</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> and dreamers: They long the days when the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" style="font-size:130%;">tiderunners</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> were something that you caught without having to spend all night fishing light jigs for MAYBE a hit or two.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VM1PHtnyI/AAAAAAAAAEw/_lyeNuFwVps/s1600-h/P6110010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VM1PHtnyI/AAAAAAAAAEw/_lyeNuFwVps/s320/P6110010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185135023462653730" border="0" /></a><br /><br />When I started the hey days were just beginning to turn into "slower" years so it was close enough to the times when fisherman could remember that so many </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" style="font-size:130%;">tiderunners</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> would choke into Delaware bay that they were considered to be pest fish. Guys used to go on </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" style="font-size:130%;">headboats</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> and fill trash cans with 10-15 pound trout, some nearly sinking their boats with them. I never got to see these days, and yes, I'm pissed off about that.<br /><br />Now every year is a bit slower, and there's less and less trout just about wherever you fish. Trout over 10 pounds are about as common as unicorns, and as of this writing it's been three years since I've caught one. New Jersey still has a decent amount of fish that are highly guarded by secretive anglers. Actually, come to think of it, all trout anglers are secretive these days, to the point of being cultish. Try asking me where I fish and at what tides, you'll have to waterboard me to get a straight answer.<br />This is part the mystery of the the trout as they are, but as well a result of a dwindling resource, recreational fisherman are caught in a sick game of trickle-down resourcing: we get what's left after the nets get their fill. Generally, that's not much at all. You pray for a year that they miss the school, spring and summer trout travel in huge schools that are easily ransacked by netters), or you hope those spikes you were catching last year will grow this year. Sometimes the spikes come back bigger, sometimes they disappear, it's the nets. No one is going to convince me otherwise when I spend a summer catching 16 inch trout every outing and they are <span style="font-style: italic;">gone</span> the next year.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VNSvHtnzI/AAAAAAAAAE4/0s1upL0d75o/s1600-h/dae+trout.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VNSvHtnzI/AAAAAAAAAE4/0s1upL0d75o/s320/dae+trout.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185135530268794674" border="0" /></a><br />So after that depressing interlude, let me move on to a more pleasant topic. </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" style="font-size:130%;">Actually</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >catching</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> trout. In the inlet, you fish jigs from 1/4 to 3/4 oz. depending on tide. If you really know your stuff and know how to "ride" the currents right, you'll never have to go heavier than 3/8 oz. My friend </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" style="font-size:130%;">Dae</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> (pictured above) is probably the best jig fisherman I know, and that's basically all he fishes unless he's "trying something new" and generally, "trying something new" means going lighter (1/8 oz), rather than heavier. He also happens to be a master at fishing jigs for flounder, he's patient enough to keep things slow along the bottom where they lie, He's been known to set up near other experienced fisherman and start hooking so many fish they can't help not to ask him what he's doing. They visibly wince when they see he's fishing the same jigs they are, just more effectively.<br /><br />So you're standing on rocks, looking out into black swirling waters with this relatively small jig. You don't think it's even possible to get to the fish with something that light. But when you look out into that darkness you begin to see small rips, changes in the current. As a kid it looked like a massive, </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" style="font-size:130%;">feartureless</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> canyon that All The Water In The World was flowing through. But it's not that way, and once you get over the inital feeling of awe, you see where the surface of the water flattens when it hits a dropoff, and gets wavy again when the dropoff slopes upward. It's just like a giant stream that you have to break down an analyze bit by bit. That's a common analogy made by fisherman, and it's true, even a backwoods brook trout creek can be broken down if you look at it and analyze it enough. The truths come piecemeal, and never fully are revealed, but generally you're able to figure things out enough to catch a fish or two.<br /><br />You cast up current and let your jig swing and swing and swing. You only have to apply a little bit of action, just a gentle flick of the rod tip here and there. The jig will swing by you, slowly, sinking, but sometimes when the current catches it right, it will hover in the water, being pushed up and held there by an upwelling of current. At these neutral points, if you're in the right place, near the dropoffs and structure, you'll get your bite. Through all that line, maybe 20-40 feet down or more, that big arc, where your jig is probably 15 yards downstream of where your line meets the water, even though it doesn't feel like that... you get the tiniest, slightest, hair of a bite: A tiny "blip" in the night. Fisherman that are new to this kind of fishing miss the bite, those that are trying to learn set the hook constantly despite not getting bit. It's kind of like deep water nymph fishing for freshwater trout.<br /><br />The "trout tap" is my favorite aspect of fishing for them. The bites are so tiny and hard to detect that, when you're in tune with them it's</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> almost spiritual. Something goes off in your brain after casting repeatedly for far too long. and you set up on a fish. The first run of a </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" style="font-size:130%;">tiderunner</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> is a violent, </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" style="font-size:130%;">headshaking,</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><span style="font-size:130%;"> streak-of-death-back-to-the-deep that if you're fishing light line like I do, leaves you feeling completely helpless as your rod arcs violently and your drag screams in the night. The fish blasts across current and your drag makes sounds that the small </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" style="font-size:130%;">stripers</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> (an inevitable byproduct of trout fishing in the inlet) could never make. I've had this happen after 8 hours of nonstop fishing, and it pulls you out of the trance of nonstop casting like a welcome slap in the face. I get all excited and shaky, I feel like I'm 12 again and about to achieve another fishing "first", I live for this.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VN__Htn0I/AAAAAAAAAFA/Lqw49Vc7w6c/s1600-h/P1010125.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VN__Htn0I/AAAAAAAAAFA/Lqw49Vc7w6c/s320/P1010125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185136307657875266" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:130%;">The fish will come up in slow circles, always trying to stay low. Bigger trout mean more runs, which, means a greater chance of losing them. Trout are known for their soft mouths, and will tear themselves off the jig. This is the true reason why they are also called "weakfish". If you lose him, and it's a trout, you curse quietly to yourself and reel in. Under your headlamp you see the tell-tale "vampire bite", two small pin pricks resembling fangs are left in your jigs. If you get one of these after fishing for hours on end, especially if you lose the fish by making a stupid mistake you might torment yourself: thinking about how rare these fish are now, wondering how big that fish was....all you wanted was a picture, and now all that's left is to go back into that mechanistic mode of repetitive casting and sorting through small </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" style="font-size:130%;">stripers</span><span style="font-size:130%;">. If you let it get to you too much, you'll be better off heading home. This is a mental game.<br /><br />If you emerge victorious, you bring the fish to the surface, slowly, keeping the drag light and letting him run (and those runs can be </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >long</span><span style="font-size:130%;">). You flick on your headlamp and are greeted by </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" >red eyes</span><span style="font-size:130%;">. A trout's eyes glow red under artificial light, their flanks are a mix of a lighter hue of that same red that's in their eyes. At a different angle their flanks show a beautiful yellowish, molten gold. You take pictures and release the fish, probably still shaking a bit because you just did what is becoming less and less possible. To think that there was a time when fish like this all over, and everyone could catch them without having to put themselves through the tortures of montony and sleep deprivation. For a </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" style="font-size:130%;">seatrout</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> fisherman who has never seen those days, it seems quite a bit like what Heaven ought to be like.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VJovHtnwI/AAAAAAAAAEg/gZT_cX03PKs/s1600-h/fishroos3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R_VJovHtnwI/AAAAAAAAAEg/gZT_cX03PKs/s320/fishroos3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185131510179405570" border="0" /></a></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-66332230153698160792008-01-29T07:46:00.000-08:002008-04-04T08:12:46.606-07:00The first few<span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R59Rm7xfA0I/AAAAAAAAADY/9ZXRgt0mQHk/s1600-h/rock.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R59Rm7xfA0I/AAAAAAAAADY/9ZXRgt0mQHk/s320/rock.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160933427312001858" border="0" /></a>Generally, the first week of March brings a change in Maryland. The rivers warm up a little from the winter and everything gets just a little bit green. The willows are the first to start as far as trees are concerned, but you notice the season more in the grass. If it had been a very cold winter, you might not notice it at all, everything will still be brown and gray. Nevertheless, changes in temperature, and the longer days will tip the scales ever-so-slightly away from winter enough to coax the first few hickory shad into running the Susquehanna river.<br /><br />The mouth of Deer Creek, where it flows into the Susquehanna river has been widely held as the best place to catch hickory shad in the world. Invariably, that's where you'll find the first few fish (and the first few fisherman chasing them.) The fish will stage there, probably waiting for the Big School that will arrive sometime around the last few days of March to the first week of April. But what comes with numbers of fish are numbers of fisherman. Often, really great fishing can be had before the hordes of fisherman come swarming from various towns in Pennsylvania (it is in the spring that we Marylanders feel like out-of-staters on our own rivers). So I like the early bite.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R59SwbxfA4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/hauBtCTA8Y4/s1600-h/big+shad2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R59SwbxfA4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/hauBtCTA8Y4/s320/big+shad2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160934690032386946" border="0" /></a><br /><br />You might fish for two or three hours for that many fish. On a good early day you might hook a half dozen or more in a few hours. When the masses come, you can expect to hook a shad every other cast, but again, that entails dealing with often shoulder-to-shoulder crowds and that "one guy" that messes everything up.<br /><br />I'm lucky enough to know most of the regulars that fish this river. I can make a phone call and get a report with the kind of detail that a tourist fisherman would pay for. I grew up here, I paid my dues, and making good contacts with competent fisherman is part of the return on an investment that I had been making since I was old enough to drive.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R59Sw7xfA5I/AAAAAAAAAEA/5PE2gBrasBw/s1600-h/shad7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R59Sw7xfA5I/AAAAAAAAAEA/5PE2gBrasBw/s320/shad7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160934698622321554" border="0" /></a><br />This really is a great time of the year. It will often happen on one of those days, before the big crowds come that nice big pod of fish moves in. I'll have the river almost to myself, and will hook more than enough shad to convince myself that spring has finally sprung. This is the kind of feeling you get on the water that has to be experienced to be understood. You'll hook a nice hickory on the end of your drift your line goes tight, the drag will sing, and you can hear all around you the sounds of spring. Across the river the cormorants are moving in, black masses of evil birds that are here for the herring and generally mark the early river herring run. The ducks will be chasing each other around in their own version of "can I buy you a drink" -albeit a little less classy. Back at the parking lot you hear the ever present sound of the spring peepers . After a whole winter of lying low, fishing for trout, you know that the Susquehanna is finally waking up. Right now begins two months of a fishing frenzy. The Hickory shad will be running up into deer creek very soon, giving way to some of the best flyrodding imaginable. Big stripers will be cruising the flats, and the white shad (American shad to you non-Marylanders) will be up at the dam. White perch will infest the river by the beginning of May, and I'll usually dedicate a trip or two to them, (and a fish fry). No matter where I go, mid-March through mid-May I'll always wish I was in Maryland, fishing the mighty Susquehanna, my home river, and she'll be full of fish.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-29615635905337638762008-01-24T14:41:00.000-08:002008-04-04T08:13:17.822-07:00Spring<span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R5kZKrxfAzI/AAAAAAAAADQ/2Um4xLl-vmo/s1600-h/P4150002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R5kZKrxfAzI/AAAAAAAAADQ/2Um4xLl-vmo/s320/P4150002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159182519469278002" border="0" /></a>Facing the prospect of not being able to wade in moving water for nearly three months a look at things to come might be in order. Back in Maryland (and a long, LONG way from Minneapolis) I fish the upper reaches of the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" style="font-size:130%;">Chesapeake</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> bay for </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" style="font-size:130%;">pre</span><span style="font-size:130%;">-spawn </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" style="font-size:130%;">stripers</span><span style="font-size:130%;">. These fish stage and feed along an area called the Susquehanna flats, gorging themselves on herring they push against the shorelines and points, feeding so aggressively you can hear them above the water.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />At 2:30 am, sometime in the middle of </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" style="font-size:130%;">April</span><span style="font-size:130%;">, it will all come together. I fish before the sun comes up, and sometimes after the sun goes down, but when it comes together, the result is often a </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" style="font-size:130%;">striper</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> on the end of your line as big as a 4 year old. She will be fat and full of eggs, a perfect picture fish. Given that this is Maryland's catch and release season, I'll take a few pictures of her and send her back to do her duty.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R5kYOrxfAvI/AAAAAAAAACw/RXrxEJtHrzQ/s1600-h/P4140010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R5kYOrxfAvI/AAAAAAAAACw/RXrxEJtHrzQ/s320/P4140010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159181488677126898" border="0" /></a><br />We throw very large plugs and fish with heavy line. This is not finesse fishing, instead, it's tug-of-war combat on a grand scale. When the school moves in you might pull on 15 fish in a morning. Your hands will be chewed up from </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" style="font-size:130%;">lipping</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> them, and if you aren't careful you might wind up in the emergency room with a Bomber 17j in your hand. (I've seen this first hand, but luckily have not suffered it myself).<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R5kYPLxfAwI/AAAAAAAAAC4/yfs-rQJkUyA/s1600-h/P4140006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R5kYPLxfAwI/AAAAAAAAAC4/yfs-rQJkUyA/s320/P4140006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159181497267061506" border="0" /></a>We wade out of the flats at that time of the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" style="font-size:130%;">morning</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> when you switch from a headlamp to sunglasses. Spring peepers can be heard in the woods, and the dogwoods will be blooming soon. If I'm </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" style="font-size:130%;">caffineated</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> enough I'll drive the 15 minutes over to the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" style="font-size:130%;">Susquehanna</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> river and fish for hickory shad. But </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" style="font-size:130%;">usually</span><span style="font-size:130%;">, if the fishing is good, it's a </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" style="font-size:130%;">McDonald's</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> breakfast, and then back to bed.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-6745509293191011112008-01-15T19:18:00.000-08:002008-04-04T08:13:50.578-07:00NY 2007/2008<span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R414M8YnSOI/AAAAAAAAAAo/zpnFily_Sp0/s1600-h/P1010098.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R414M8YnSOI/AAAAAAAAAAo/zpnFily_Sp0/s320/P1010098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155909312172214498" border="0" /></a><br />First post in a long time, but on the same token it's been a long time since I've had any meaningful time to spend on the water and write about it. I've returned recently from 9 days on the salmon river, my set-in-stone annual pilgrimage that comes after the fall semester. The fishing was more than good. This post will be more pictures than words, which is the best kind of post anyway.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Water conditions started off higher than average at 1150 </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" style="font-size:130%;">cfs</span><span style="font-size:130%;">, and I fished a few days at 750. The last few days of the trip the water was lowered to the fabled 500</span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" style="font-size:130%;">cfs</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> which many tout as the best flow for fishing the salmon river. Not too high, not too low. -and I'll agree with that. It's been said before, and I'll say it again, water flow is the most important factor in </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" style="font-size:130%;">steelheading</span><span style="font-size:130%;">. Other fish are probably more affected by changes in water temperature (and yes, </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" style="font-size:130%;">steelhead</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> are) but water flow will dramatically effect where the fish lie, and whether or not new fish will enter the system.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R416wsYnSPI/AAAAAAAAAAw/vOH60p9pLzk/s1600-h/P1010103.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R416wsYnSPI/AAAAAAAAAAw/vOH60p9pLzk/s320/P1010103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155912125375793394" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R417h8YnSSI/AAAAAAAAABI/4sQlLHBtQKg/s1600-h/P1040125.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R417h8YnSSI/AAAAAAAAABI/4sQlLHBtQKg/s320/P1040125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155912971484350754" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R417AMYnSQI/AAAAAAAAAA4/86M4zBKVPXw/s1600-h/P1010110.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R417AMYnSQI/AAAAAAAAAA4/86M4zBKVPXw/s320/P1010110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155912391663765762" border="0" /></a><br />Weather as well fluctuated, when I first arrived the temps were seasonal, highs in the 30's, and lows in the 20's. Then we were hit by an arctic cold blast that dropped temps down to single digit highs, and brought on a whole new kind of cold fishing. This was probably the average temperatures that I have to deal with in Minneapolis, but when you mix those temps with cold and flowing water, the combination generally results in cold feet that tend to swing the thoughts towards death, judgement, hell, and the like.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_iEMYnSUI/AAAAAAAAABY/vJYjLQMCF_Y/s1600-h/P1040134.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_iEMYnSUI/AAAAAAAAABY/vJYjLQMCF_Y/s320/P1040134.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156588660034324802" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_jYsYnScI/AAAAAAAAACY/Dp3nG-jzUE8/s1600-h/PC310084.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_jYsYnScI/AAAAAAAAACY/Dp3nG-jzUE8/s320/PC310084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156590111733270978" border="0" /></a></span> <span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R417OsYnSRI/AAAAAAAAABA/WI77a8xARnU/s1600-h/P1030116.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R417OsYnSRI/AAAAAAAAABA/WI77a8xARnU/s320/P1030116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155912640771868946" border="0" /></a>I usually don't to much "thinking" while I'm fishing (others would say during any other activity as well), but the freezing cold certainly does affect your </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" style="font-size:130%;">abililty</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> to simply concentrate on fishing (which, I'll admit, often requires little thought).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_i6cYnSYI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Jy-WB8m0xyo/s1600-h/P1070161.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_i6cYnSYI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Jy-WB8m0xyo/s320/P1070161.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156589592042228098" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_i5sYnSWI/AAAAAAAAABo/vrfEx8Uou7M/s1600-h/P1050147.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_i5sYnSWI/AAAAAAAAABo/vrfEx8Uou7M/s320/P1050147.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156589579157326178" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_i58YnSXI/AAAAAAAAABw/5uFvFeTYebI/s1600-h/P1060148.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_i58YnSXI/AAAAAAAAABw/5uFvFeTYebI/s320/P1060148.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156589583452293490" border="0" /></a><br />After the cold snap temperatures finally rose, so much so that I was fishing in 60 degree weather my last 2 days (and in 500</span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" style="font-size:130%;">cfs</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> too!). but these temperatures lead to another consequence when the Tug Hill plateau begins to melt: runoff and rising water.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_jY8YnSdI/AAAAAAAAACg/7BSu2ZcA73c/s1600-h/PC310094.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_jY8YnSdI/AAAAAAAAACg/7BSu2ZcA73c/s320/PC310094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156590116028238290" border="0" /></a><br />My trip started with a perfect storm of good </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" style="font-size:130%;">steelheading</span><span style="font-size:130%;">: prior high water dropping = good fishing. rising water shuts them down, at least until they get used to it. and </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" style="font-size:130%;">snowmelt</span> completely shuts them off. I have no idea why a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" style="font-size:130%;">steelhead</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> would shut off when the river is 33 degrees just like the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" style="font-size:130%;">meltwater</span><span style="font-size:130%;">, but it does, and I've seen it time and time again. It's just one of those weird "rules" that has yet to let me down. Towards the end of the trip the river rose, got colder (albeit ever so slightly), and the fish shut down. No better time to leave than when the river is high and the fish are off. Of course, for those lucky enough to have aces to this great fishery, the high water merely resets the chips, and when things </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" style="font-size:130%;">stabalize</span><span style="font-size:130%;">, the madness begins all over again.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_jYcYnSbI/AAAAAAAAACQ/ZKRKzvOjYc4/s1600-h/P1070156.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_jYcYnSbI/AAAAAAAAACQ/ZKRKzvOjYc4/s320/P1070156.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156590107438303666" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_i5cYnSVI/AAAAAAAAABg/rxAOsuReEIU/s1600-h/P1050144.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_i5cYnSVI/AAAAAAAAABg/rxAOsuReEIU/s320/P1050144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156589574862358866" border="0" /></a><br />Sitting here and uploading the better pictures of the trip, I'm struck with the realization that trying to convey on a blog what one experiences on the water will always fall short. Right now I'm back in Minneapolis, making a blog post and refusing to pay attention in class. Fisherman probably don't make the best students, and if school were fishing, I'd have more letters after my name than words in a Russian novel. So the battle continues between future career and the immutable passion for the water. I suppose there are men with worse challenges in their lives.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_jYMYnSaI/AAAAAAAAACI/lZJ_AHyMF0I/s1600-h/P1070164.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kWiE6WjrhhM/R4_jYMYnSaI/AAAAAAAAACI/lZJ_AHyMF0I/s320/P1070164.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156590103143336354" border="0" /></a></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1169951762983472682007-01-27T18:08:00.000-08:002008-04-04T08:14:22.790-07:00Western Ohio 1.27.07<span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/141510/P1270003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/25525/P1270003.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /> Today was supposed to be too cold for the tributary I fished. It was supposed to be frozen up, or at least flowing like a coconut slurpee. That didn't happen. Weather people make mistakes, and I was able to profit from this particular one.<br /> When the river temperatures get down to 32 degrees nature takes over, but in moving water this happens in a few different ways. There are generally 3 different types of ice a steelhead fisherman has to contend with, and none of them are enjoyable.<br /> The most common type of ice is slush ice. This is just as it sounds, chunks of slush flowing down the river, bumping into your line, and collecting in slackwater areas. Generally slush ice will "burn off" if you get onto the river later in the morning if the sun comes out. The faster the flow of the river, the easier it is for the slush ice to burn off. As well, fishing further upstream will generally get you into clearer water earlier in the day, since the slush that forms overnight will still be floating downriver. This is a problem for me since I consider myself to be a "downriver" steelhead fisherman, tending to spend my time in chase of silver fish instead of fishing over older fish that are already battle worn and weary.<br /> Shelf ice forms along the banks of the river and it can be very dangerous if you don't know the depth of the river that it has formed over. It's generally never stable enough to walk on, and fish like to run under it when you hook them.<br /> Lastly, Anchor ice is ice the forms along the bottom of the river. This stuff is the worst of the worst. Generally, a good showing of anchor ice is a sign that your time might be better spent elsewhere than on the river. (Yes, and I'm aware of what I just said).<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/873899/P1270002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/671304/P1270002.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /> Today there was more than enough shelf ice and slush to go around. Since the weather was actually above freezing for the first time in over a week, some of the ice was breaking up and heading downstream. This is another dangerous problem, when a magic carpet of ice big enough to carry an elephant comes floating towards you threatening to cut you off at the knee. Always keep an eye upriver!<br /> Today's fish were sluggish. I've noticed when there's a melt going on the fish tend to act funny until it's either been going on for a few days, or stops. This area I generally concentrate in faster water, but all of my fish came from slower water areas. I also experimented with cured skein today. It's gooey, drippy, nasty stuff. The fish seem to like it, and it's a lot easier than tying egg sacks. It won't be a staple for me, but it's another little tactic to keep things from getting monotonous.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/611364/P1270015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/634107/P1270015.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1169616965747489552007-01-23T21:26:00.000-08:002008-04-04T08:14:58.404-07:00Rocky River 1.20.2007<span style="font-size:130%;">well, here's a short post with some fish involved.<br /><br />I took a few friends from school to the Rocky River for some frozen steelhead fishing. My one buddy Scott, who hails from Idaho would not submit to the almighty Eggsack and instead fished flies. He did well! Not that these fish can't be taken on flies, they do all the time, and I've caught them this way myself. It's just that I've gotten preoccupied with the high catch rates and ease of fishing with bait. Perhaps another lesson is in order here... Scott's fish came on a pink sucker spawn (my pattern!) which is pretty much a standby here in Ohio. There were other fish hooked and landed, but these are the best pics. It was a pretty slow day on the whole, but enough fish around to keep us occupied. The worst part of the day was finding out I had a leak in my waders a little above my knee and the water that came in slowly seeped down into my socks and froze my feet beyond what would naturally be called "cold". I believe I started to feel them a few hours after I was out of my waders and my feet were against the heater in the Jeep. Winter fishing.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/492193/P1200004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/18781/P1200004.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/186432/P1200002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/64429/P1200002.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1168658078441910022007-01-12T17:34:00.000-08:002007-01-13T11:57:54.076-08:00New Years on the Salmon River<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/135153/P1030086.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/884407/P1030086.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Well, things got a little crazy with the end of the semester, finals, and now with the beginning of the semester, things have only toned down a little. Such is life. I spent a about a week on the Salmon river, as is my custom for semester break, but the fishing was slow. Either that, or I've lost my touch! We did get into some fish, but it was a far different trip than last year. I was hoping to fish in snow and cold, but was met with tempatures as warm as they had been in October. This would normally be a <span style="font-style: italic;">good </span>thing. But, water levels were low and the fish were stingy. We did manage a few hookups each day.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/712225/P1020079.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/233348/P1020079.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Lesson learned this trip: When fishing is slow and you're not hooking fish, ALWAYS check your leader after every dozen or so casts. This is elementary I know, but, I'm always pretty bad at taking my own advice. I'd certainly have better pictures than the ones I have (Big fish go bye-bye) if it weren't for this simple act that I ignored. Live and learn I suppose.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/969145/P1010073.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/878439/P1010073.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I'm in the process of planning a daytrip to Ohio, if the water EVER drops to a fishable level, so the next update might actually happen sooner rather than later. You can't fish all the time, right?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/515445/P1010069.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/136960/P1010069.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/490306/P1010074.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/745651/P1010074.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/620705/P1020076.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/881502/P1020076.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1164680956232858212006-11-27T18:16:00.000-08:002006-11-30T23:05:05.713-08:00Salmon river and Tributaries, 11.21-11.26<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PB220006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PB220006.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I had four days off that conviently turned themselves into a week of fishing. Playing hookey was a good thing, and I won't apologize for it. Some days were productive, others were good time on the water, away from the books and the hassles.<br /><br />Day 1, Tuesday. We went brown trout fishing. Behind every good steelhead fisherman there's eggs, and brown trout eggs are the best of the best. Brown trout fishing is the necessary part of a steelheader's November that gets him through the rest of the year. We fished some smaller creeks out west with fresh tied egg sacks and single egg patterns, the hens were there and we got some.<br />Nothing is wasted, the eggs are taken, blood and juice are absorbed into cloth and the eggs are frozen. The fish are smoked and eaten. This is the most fish killing I do in a year, but I have friends that love the taste of smoked brown hens, and I love fishing with eggs, so it works out.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PB220007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PB220007.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Day 2, Wednesday<br />I fished the salmon river and landed a few small fish, and lost a bigger fish of about 7 pounds. The water is running at 1800cfs, which is difficult to land fish in. I drove up north to play around on some creeks and landed a few nice rainbows. I didn't feel like taking too many pictures, I was too engrossed, starting to forget about being in school and the impending finals. Last night I had a nightmare about being unprepared, so I'll just fish hard today and get my head into fishing while I have the time to do it.<br /><br />The river is forecasted to drop to 900cfs on Friday, that's going to be the day. So much of fishing is waiting for your time to attack and saving your energy instead of wasting it on higher water and non-prime conditions. If you can stand to lay back and hit the river right when the conditions are prime, the rewards are significant. I've been lucky enough to learn from fisherman a lot older than me who curbed my reckless attitude at an early age. Fish with someone who's been on the water twice as long as you, and he'll tell you to calm down, don't waste your time, or your energy, the fish will come. It's a hard bite to swallow when you've driven 8 hours and only have a week to fish, and are concentrating on the last few days of your trip to get fish, but it's a good lesson.<br /><br />Day 3. Thanksgiving<br /><br />Well, we decided to go out brown trout fishing again, hoping the rivers would be empty, and with no such luck! Even the brownies were scarce, but we did get to land a few nice rainbows. This was a big driving day, hitting creeks, but not catching many fish, another dues paid day, but tomorrow... The salmon river is dropping to 900cfs. That's were I'll be.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PB230009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PB230009.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Day 3 Friday, Salmon river, Good luck, Bad luck<br /><br />there were fish to be caught, maybe not piles of them, but we caught many fish today. The bad luck struck us with two broken rods and a lost net (one of the rods and the net are to my credit!) These things happen, bad luck is like that. Some days you get out on the water, and something just doesn't feel right, like there's something in the air. At least the fish cooperated for us.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/952931/PB240011.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/474770/PB240011.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/455942/PB240021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/373154/PB240021.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/53407/PB240017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/663825/PB240017.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/891395/PB240025.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/471099/PB240025.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/750235/PB240013.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/810242/PB240013.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />On an amusing note we did a before annoying centerpinner/after annoying centerpinner picture set. Just stop smiling, put your hood up to make it look like your fishing in colder weather than everyone, the total champ shot. It's one thing to take a picture when your hood is up because it's colder than snot out, it's another to go out of your want to look like a coolguy. Here's a before and after:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/970546/PB240014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/78489/PB240014.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/285163/PB240015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/910363/PB240015.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Day 4 Saturday, slow day, no bad luck<br /><br />We fished the DSR again but there were Saturday crowds about, and finding open water was tougher. We decided to move around a lot today (fatal mistake) but I did get my friend Dae to see some water he's never fished before. Too bad we didn't cash in at any of the other spots. Not much to say for this day, just tough.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/59175/PB250026.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/610478/PB250026.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Day 5, Sunday, we are redeemed!<br /><br />Much better fishing today, no broken rods, no lost nets (ok, I did misplace the net once). Another great change was that the sun had finally given way to still overcast weather. The sun had been a problem seeing our floats while fishing the north side of the river. A lot of times a change from sunny to cloudy, or vice-versa seems to help the fishing. I like fishing in the sun, but when there's no clouds in the sky and you have to stare into blazing glare and pick out your float, things can get a little distracting. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/19306/PB260038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/424347/PB260038.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/753886/PB260029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/644794/PB260029.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/292675/PB260041.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/188307/PB260041.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/397861/PB260045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/641611/PB260045.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/929518/PB260047.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/184611/PB260047.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/163661/PB260042.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/979720/PB260042.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/1600/135405/PB260027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6385/3902/320/76484/PB260027.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Today was what I would consider the perfect day of fishing: we found fish throughout the DSR, the crowds were thin, and the fish were very aggressive. The day was over before I knew it, and I was again confronted by the fact that tomorrow I would be driving home, and fishing is going to be thin for the next few weeks with final exams fast approaching. I was away long enough to forget everything but the side of my life devoted to fishing, and I got to live in that mindset for a few days before it was back to reality. I reluctantly pointed the jeep west until my next trip to the Salmon riverUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1163215785501284152006-11-10T19:06:00.000-08:002006-11-11T21:07:33.690-08:00One Fish<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PB100003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PB100003.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>"all I want is one." Something often said by a weary fisherman after a long, fishless day on the water. It is a saying that has some importance though. Do I really mean that? Am I really satisfied to catch a single fish? Of course the answer depends on the fisherman (or at least his mood at the time). As nice as it would be to claim that I go out after "one" everytime, and when that fish is landed, I'm satisfied, that would be a lie. That <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> the fisherman I want to be, the guy who can enjoy just catching one fish, and where everthing else is a bonus.<br /> Some days I can be that fisherman. Today I think I was. I landed my one fish within 10 minutes of fishing and couldn't even scare one after that. I could have driven further east, but I didn't feel like it. I wanted to fish this river because I knew I'd be able to fish in relative solitude, and for the most part, I did. It has been a few weeks since I've fished, and while I thought I'd be hunrgy for more, I really wasn't. I'm saving my energy for my last trip to New York before I begin the sprint to the end of the semester, and final exams.<br /> I've come to realize that while I enjoy fishing in Ohio, it's just an outlet to keep me entertained before I can get over to the lake Ontario tributaries. Not that these fish are any less worthy of my attention, but New York is "home" and the rivers there still make the hairs stand on the back of my neck when I think about them. maybe if I had learned to steelhead fish in Ohio I would take fishing there more seriously. Maybe you just can't teach an old dog new tricks.<br /> I've been on the phone with my friend Josh who has been in NY for the past week on vacation. The fish have been good to him. Brown trout fishing out west, steelhead fishing in the eastern basin. The salmon river is full of big chrome fish as I type this, despite high water. I won't be there for another week.<br /> So I go and fish a close river in ohio. Just to get out and say I fished, feel a little of what I like to call "the power and the glory" of a rampaging steelhead on the end of my line. My "one fish" fought well, charged me 3 times and managed to throw enough slack in the line I was lucky to land her. She was hooked in the roof of the mouth, had the fish been hooked in the corner of the mouth, I might have only "hooked" a single fish, instead of landing one.<br /> So today I fished a few hours in the afternoon, daydreaming of the salmon river, and enjoying not having my nose in a book for once. Tomorrow will be different, there will be the cleaning out of the truck, followed by trying to get ahead on school work to give me a buffer for when I plan to play hooky for a few days to make my Thanksgiving break in Pulaski a little longer. I took the shorter drive today because this was one of those rare occasions where fish didn't matter. All I needed was running and water quiet.<br /> Sometimes I think we fish because we want to get away, or as John Gierach might say: we are mad, happy, sad, or all of the above. Sometimes I have no idea why I'm fishing but I want to be out there: standing in the river, <span style="font-style: italic;">away</span> from all the worry-noise of life; responsibility, work, school, money, friends, the future... They all get swallowed up -at least temporarily- in the swirls of the current.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PB100004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PB100004.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1162179370683843372006-10-29T18:36:00.000-08:002006-10-29T19:36:22.076-08:0010.27 a dud<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA270015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA270015.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I should have known better but the inertia of tying up eggsacks from the night before carried me through. The forecast went from a "slight chance" of rain to "RAIN"... the outlook was not good. The rivers were just dropping to a fishable level and I figured if I drove far enough east I could outrun the saturated sponge that was coming to blow the rivers out for another week.<br /><br />When I got out of the truck the river looked good enough, stained, with a heavy flow. I should be able to get some fish. There were fish to be had, but things just weren't "right" Most of my fish came out of the same hole and that was it. nothing more. A fishless desert.<br /><br />I fished on a friday both because I have the day off and I knew it was going to rain. In the morning conditions were perfect: overcast, cool, no wind. Some guys swear by overcast skies for steelhead, I can take them or leave them. For me the biggest advantage of overcast skies is being able to see your float better with less glare on the water. After a few hours on the water, and a few fish to make it at least worth the effort the skies opened up, and the rains began to fall. I was home in a little over three hours but my gear is still drying out.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA270014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA270014.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA270012.3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA270012.3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1161112165458515722006-10-17T11:34:00.000-07:002006-10-18T19:44:40.963-07:00Salmon River, 10/13-10/16<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA140060.2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA140060.2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">The only bad thing about taking the 8 hour drive to the Salmon river is the trip through Canada. Having to cross through customs is the trade-off for wanting to get there faster, I leave Ann Arbor at 9pm and intend to be knee deep by sunup.<br /><br />When I crossed into Lewiston the snows began, light at first, until I hit the heart of the surprise early lake effect snow band. I had to stay in 4 wheel drive for almost 2 hours, and 40mph was only possible between squalls and where the plows had been, otherwise I-90 was a single track slow trudge through the whiteout. I'd have gotten pictures but frankly I was too freaked out to take my hands off the wheel long enough to dig out the camera. This was the first snow I have driven through for the season, and was the worst snow I have driven through to date. By the time I made Rochester it disappeared like the blizzard I had left to my west never even existed.<br /><br />By noon I'll be a walking zombie unless the fishing keeps me motivated enough to fish until dark. Today I was motivated, and for the next three days the fishing remained everything I dream about when I'm fishing in Ohio or not fishing at all.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA140047.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA140047.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA140056.0.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA140056.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></div>I met up with two of my friends Dae and Josh. Josh was first to meet me down on the water where I had already landed 2 fish. They were the powerful fish I remembered, in fact, they fought a little harder than I had recalled. It wasn't even 8am by the time I had lost my first submarine, and I was just settling into that fishing mode where your mind clears of everything but the river and the fish.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/salmon%20river%20october%2006%20013.1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/salmon%20river%20october%2006%20013.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">We worked our way up and down about 2 miles of river. The fish this time of year are known for their aggression, but they are not stacked into the wintering holes. The best way to fish this time of year is to cover a lot of water, usually we would hook 2 or 3 fish within a half hour and then things would slow down. Off to the next hole we would go...wash...rinse..repeat. Man I love this river!<br /><br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA130009.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA130009.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA130019.0.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA130019.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />The beauty of steelhead fishing on the salmon river is that it is very difficult to read where the good holding water is. Fish will hold in unknown spots and dropoffs that are all but impossible to see amid it's roaring currents. This is fast water, a west coast river planted on the east coast. It's steelhead take full advantage of the currents, and to land them you are often faced with the question of whether or not to chase then down though slippery, rocky rivers, risking both life, limb, and overpriced fishing equipment. Adrenaline.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA300034.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA300034.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA150009.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA150009.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Dae served as camp cook. We stayed with 2 other friends, Johnny and Andrea who also guide on the salmon river. They've helped me immensely with the learning curve that this river is famous for, and I'd probably still be stumbling along fishless and frustrated if it weren't for their guidance. I also like to drop by their website <a href="www.nyfishtales.com">www.nyfishtales.com</a> when I'm not actually there. Most trips they'll come out and fish with us, but things have been real busy in Pulaski with salmon season (and early steelhead) in full swing. Between working other jobs and guiding they had little time. But were more than happy to hang out with us back at the "steelhead camp" and have a few drinks before getting to bed early for another long day on the water.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA130025.0.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA130025.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></div></div><br />Above is a prime example of Dae's cooking. Meat. Red Meat. Rare. Bad for the arteries, but good for fueling the fire after you've walked 5 miles, fought a bunch of bright steelhead and stumbled over every rock in the river. I had a protein coma, and fell asleep promptly.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA140055.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA140055.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA140044.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA140044.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />The next two days on the river were repeats fishwise of the first. The weather became unpredictable however, in the classic upstate New York fall sense: clouds were constantly rolling off of lake Ontario, pouring rain, wind, ice, and sometimes a break would result in some sunshine...All in one day, sometimes the cycle would repeat itself several times in one day. We actually got chased off by a random hailstorm at the end of our second day fishing, but by the time we go to our cars, the sun had come back out. In the winter, it's just snow, either lots of snow, or a little, more wind or less wind driving it. This is lake effect country where on interstate 81 north of Syracuse there's big reflectors along the shoulder of the road that are over 6 feet tall to assist unlucky drivers heading through the lake effect snow machine.<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA130005.0.jpg"><br /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA140061.1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA140061.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I hope to be back in a few weeks. At the very latest I'll be up for Thanksgiving. Hopefully there will be better driving but just as many fish. For now it's schoolwork and maybe a weekend trip to Ohio. A large part of me still remains back in New York walking the banks of the Salmon River. If all works as planned for me it will be my home water in a few more years, instead of just my "home away from home".<br /></div></div><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1160505773657971892006-10-10T10:48:00.000-07:002006-10-10T11:42:53.696-07:00Northeast Ohio 10/7<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA070017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/400/PA070017.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />This was a trip that was supposed to happen the day before, and I was worried that the conditions were not going to be in my favor, since I was trying to hit higher, dirtier water, and this creek clears pretty fast. In short, I was fine. The fishing was excellent, and there were plenty of steelhead to be had. <br /><br />Earlier in the season I'm having to make the longer trek to northeast ohio to try and intercept Pennsylvania fish which are fall runners. fishing near the PA border will generally win you more fish, but everyone else knows this too, so as a result you're going to have to deal with more fisherman. <br /><br />There were a few spurts of crowds, but one of the best things about fishing Ohio is the ability I have to cover a lot of water, and get away from people. Most of the people are camping out at the big holes where the fish have been pounded and the action is slow at best.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA070012.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA070012.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Today was a little different than most of my experiences in ohio because I couldn't pin down a color that the fish were taking regularly. A lot of times there will be a certain color that the fish want over everything else (usually the color you are almost out of). But with today's bright sunshine accuracy was more important than color. Most of my fish came from under trees, against cut banks, and open spots covered with shade. It worked over and over and was pretty fun. I could come to a hole that had little structure and would normally produce if it were overcast and do nothing, and walk 100 yards to find some decent structure (shade) in a marginal hole and there'd be a fish there. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA070009.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA070009.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I spent much of the day trying to pull fish out of places I'm not supposed to. I concentrated on small cuts that were shaded but otherwise didn't provide much cover. there were fish here! Other holes that had the structure needed a perfect cast and I lost a lot of rigs trying to get closer than I should. This is probably the closest that steelhead fishing will come to bass fishing, where I'm pulling hot fish out of downed trees, and banging my rod on the bottom of the stream because of the side pressure necessary to keep the fish from snapping you off. Pretty neat.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA070010.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA070010.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Next weekend I'll be on the salmon river. Word has it there's some early season silver males in there of the large to very large variety. This is a trip I've been planning for a few months since I always like to make a mid-october trip for pure silver. These are my favorite steelhead of the year to catch. The early runs on the salmon river are perfect silver turbocharged rockets. Sure, winter fishing is great without the crowds, but for pure thrills, try hooking a 15lb chrome buck on a cool october day. The water will still be warmer and the fish are coming straight out of deep water in the lake, they don't usually sit in the estuary but bolt straight in. they have blue-black backs, and perfect silver sides, and not even a hint of pink on their gill plates. They are a different fish, and you become quickly aware of that difference when you loose 100 yards of line as fast as you can shout out an obscenity or two. That's the lure of October chrome.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1160184920823652402006-10-06T17:50:00.000-07:002006-10-09T12:40:59.193-07:00Eggsacks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA040002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA040002.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Eggsacks. The fish like to eat them, but I hate to tie them. I've got a good 200 tied up and ready to go for tomorrow morning. 200 is probably enough to fish 3 days, but you can never, ever have enough eggsacks. (or eggs for that matter)<br /><br /><br />I've bribed myself with an experimental salmon dish. It involves pineapple, a charcoal grill, and butter. We'll see. It sure <span style="font-style: italic;">looks</span> good. I've got a good ole standby glaze to keep the funky pineapple salmon company in there.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA060003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA060003.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA060003s.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA060003s.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Ok, a little more on eggsacks. They are best tied with exactly 350ml of strong whiskey in your body, that makes both the tedium and the smell easier to stand. Actually, the smell isn't that bad, but since I'm in the trade it doesn't bother me. The whiskey is helpful but completely optional. Morning coffee works, as well as grilled salmon, which was tonight's substance of choice.<br /><br />This is B+ grade salmon skein, September 2006 vintage, harvested from the Big Manistee. The product was well cared for, chilled, the eggs were then carefully scraped and placed on cure. The mealy/fishy/pungent/acrid smell is punctuated by hints of vanilla and hyssop.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PA060002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PA060002.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I tie three kinds of eggsacks. Small, Large, and Mongo. All of them have their place, but I've found it's not a scientific as you might think. In ohio, you fish big sacks when the water is dirty, and small sacks when the water is clean. Tomorrow I'm going to fish clean water, and maybe some dirty water. I have a lot of both, and my fingers stink like salmon poot.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35128147.post-1159847641713316922006-10-02T20:01:00.000-07:002006-10-09T12:41:21.043-07:00What is a fish pig?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/P1010036.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/P1010036.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">What is a fish pig?<br /><br />The term is one I recently picked up while fishing the <st1:place>Salmon River</st1:place> with a few good friends. There are probably a few different classes of fish pigs, some are good (as in tolerable) some are not.<br />Their common tie is an obsession for the fish they chase. From this writing until probably early spring, the fish I am referring to are steelhead.<br /><br />A fish pig cannot get enough, he's a one-track-mind-hell bound for the next fish, and I know all too well this mindset. A good fish pig is the one that is all fishing, all the time, they'll talk your ears off about rivers, fish, water flows, weather, snow, and just about anything else they'll encounter from the time they wake up until their line goes tight with their own version of the White Whale. A bad pig is exactly the same, but they are the one's to watch out for, they are the one's that lose their minds when the conditions are right, forget common courtesy, act competitive, and otherwise make asses out of themselves. All fish pigs have been on both sides, in one way or another. Myself included.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PB050009.0.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PB050009.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>From this point forward however, you won't be hearing too much more about what I've just discussed. I'm just trying to put the title of this blog into context. I'm taken away when I fish rivers, and for me time on the water is a controlled obsession, a parallel universe that wants to sweep me away despite my obligations. As time went on I've learned that the people you meet and the places you go are probably even better than the fish. Even steelhead! That is where the recovery began, and continues, but will never be complete. There's always going to be days and weeks that the fishing is so good it will cut me off from everything but the rivers and the fish. It's the in-between times (school, work, family), back in reality, where I can reflect on the fishing, and laugh at it all.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PB040001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/320/PB040001.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Steelhead are probably the best fish for discussing a fishing obsession. They have a notorious cult following of frozen fisherman chasing them from river to river, state to state. They live in extreme environments, you'll likely encounter numbing cold, wind, snow, high water, and just about everything else Mother Nature can throw at you. If you are obsessed, you'll love absolutely all of it, and you'll ask for more.<br /><br />I think this has been explained by psychologists as cognitive dissonance. The more pain/crap/money/etc. you go though in search of something, the closer a bond you feel to it. That's a one sentence defenition by a non-psychologist, keep that in mind. But applied to a steelhead fisherman, it fits. You wake up in the morning, it's snowing blinding white. Your hung over (yesterday was a good day, so you celebrated) and your buddy is rushing you to go. You down 2 quick cups of coffee and fumble out into the moring cold. There's no where else you'd rather be.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/1600/PB240014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6385/3902/400/PB240014.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>My chosen forum is the <st1:state><st1:place>New York</st1:place></st1:state> tributaries to <st1:place><st1:placetype>Lake</st1:placetype> <st1:placename>Ontario</st1:placename></st1:place>, the <st1:place>Salmon River</st1:place> being the Holy of Holies of steelheading for me. But you're going to hear more about fishing in <st1:state><st1:place>Ohio</st1:place></st1:state> and <st1:state><st1:place>Michigan</st1:place></st1:state> since <st1:state><st1:place>Michigan</st1:place></st1:state> is home until I finish school and find a job in <st1:city><st1:place>Syracuse</st1:place></st1:city> to complete my obsession.<br /><br />This is going to be an attempt at cataloging a season of steelhead fishing. I normally fish weekly, but that schedule is subject to change where obligations call louder than the rivers do. In addition, there aspects of a steelhead season besides standing in a river fishing, I'll be discussing those as well.<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2