June 16, 2009
June 11, 2009
Drums Along the Mohawk: Redux
Still haven't seen the movie.
When the water is down, there's a lot of territory to explore on the delta. Not enough to truly get lost, being situated at the nexus of 3 cities, 2 major river systems, a state park, railroad, multiple automobile bridges and a DPW center, but impressively, more than enough to lose yourself and experience what nature has been able to seek the delta's refuge.
This year every visit to the islands (but 1) has resulted in at least hearing a deer. Yesterday I saw the same doe twice on opposite sides of a side channel within an hour. I've jumped rabbits, been rushed by geese, stepped on catfish, and been a homing beacon for caddis. There are secluded places, believe it or not, where you almost feel in the wilderness. All you can hear is the rushing water and wind, and if you don't strain too hard, you can't even see the buildings in the distance. Surrounded by river, shale, forest...and these;
Do you see? Do You See!?
Oh, I'm sorry, forgot the polarized lens;
For those of you who always ask how much of a difference polarized sunglasses make, how's this? Just held my sunglasses in front of the lens. While you can see the fish a little better, the big deal is turning those obscure shadows and reflections into well resolved bottom detail.
I threw everything I had at them. OK, I threw a conehead bugger and zero stealth at them. Somehow, they managed to decline. Managed plenty of smallies though, from 6 inches on up to 16. Also landed a 10" herring (well, plucked it out of a pool and tossed it on a rock...), which almost prompted me to tie one on and go hunting for bruiser bronzebacks. But, it was really just a one-fly kind of a day.
In addition to all the carp, there were nomadic pods of what first appeared to be massive bass. When I got close enough to see a little better, well, the drum were in. Everywhere. Cruising deep, holding shallow, plucking crustaceans off banks and ledges. None would take the bugger. Or even look at it.
Until I saw a tail in a shallow riffle. Had to be a smallie. Turned out to be a hungry 18" drum. Not massive by any means. Especially considering they don't put up much of a fight. But plenty to put a healthy bend in the 8 wt.
New species on the fly! Check out those colors. Talk about wild, pretty fish...who needs trout?
I've caught freshwater drum before, as a kid, but never on the fly. Interesting that they (this and the other, 14 incher I caught) didn't really fight particularly hard; they had plenty of power in reserve which they demonstrated while I was trying to unhook and release them. Guess they were just playing me.
Knock another one off the list. Now...for them pesky carps....
June 10, 2009
June 1, 2009
Sustainable Salmon Farming Becoming A Reality....?
Not if you hear what Ms. Morton has to report from her Scandanavian fact-finding mission.
May 18, 2009
Hat Trick ≠ Grand Slam
Yup, I'm lazy. And busy. And would rather fish than type. But...I'm also annoyed.
When I see a report entitled "_____ River Grand Slam," be it on a fourm or blog, I get excited. I can't wait to see what species constitute the Slam. I mean, it's usually pretty easy to guess, if you know the river (even by name), but it's just cool to see.
Inevitably, though, I tend to be quite disappointed.
"Some NYC watershed grand slam today...landed a bunch of rainbows...one big brown...just as I was leaving got this brookie. The end."
WTF. Can't you count? You got the wrong sport, Sport. What you just landed was a hat-trick. And my ire.
Hat tricks are great. Good on ya. But it ain't a slam. Is it nit-picky? Am I just being a doucher? Probably. But I'm OK with that.
April 30, 2009
Anadromous:
: ascending rivers from the sea for breeding
Stripers are in.
"Steelhead" are on their way out.
Foolishly planned a brookie pond weekend.
Changes?
We'll see. Right now I'm watching the ripples change their size.
