Old Dog with New Tricks Part 2

We woke early the next morning at around 6:30 to a beautiful sunny day. We got dressed, cooked some breakfast and slowly packed up our campsite. Once finished at camp, Dad and I walked down over the hardwood ridge, through the small trail between balsam fir and reached the "home pool". We peered through the thin line of hardwoods as the fog was burnt off the stillwater, and saw a few trout rise. We planned on not staying long, unless there was a hatch. By the time we both got geared up it was about quarter to eight. I let Dad fish the pool first and before I knew he was into a trout on a #8 Bead-head Black Woolly Bugger with Grizzly hackle, it was a fine trout and a great landing job.

Before I knew it he was into another one, but with a different fly (he had lost the killer fly on a dropped tree that lay at the edge of the pool) He got it in and released the beautiful specimen like a seasoned pro. I was quite impressed with the progress he had made in just in that first day of fly fishing for him in almost a year and a half. He backed out of the pool and let me at a few. I waded to the run from our "rotation rock" and fished the outside of the run with a hot head bugger right on bottom. Landed a nice 13 3/4 inch fish in just a few casts, what a beautiful fighting fish to bring to hand. A photo and a quick release, after taking a few more casts and catching a few more trout we both decide that it was time to return home.

About the middle of June, Dad and I decide to head to a backwoods brook we fished last Septemeber and did well at. This time we decide to walk a longer stretch and fish the long headwater stream down to where it meanders nearest the road. It wasn't easy walking and the black fly were thick, but we did our best to keep our mind on fishing and forget about the flies. As we fished down through, the stream was only wide enough for one person. Dad had decided that I would fish and see what was to be caught, as we walked down I caught quite a few fish but decided it was dads turn to try his luck. 

Dad shot his line out and was fishing in no time, but no luck for him at this hole. We moved downstream to a wide long flat with a channel on each side. I took the right and Dad took the left, No hook ups until the channels met and we both struck two fish. His being the biggest of the day.... He was pretty proud of himself, and rightly so.

We both continued to brave the black flies and the mosquitos and catch nice trout. From my recollection one deep hole produced two trout of 13 inches each fat and very great fighters.. As we moved to the longest and widest section of the stream which was a long "s" shaped stillwater, the walking got traitorous and the bugs even worse. So dad had stopped fishing and was walking along the sphagnum shoreline where stunted black spruce, lamb kill (Sheep-Laurel) and other thick brushy shrubs that just tend to line these trout (and black fly) producing stillwaters. I tried to get him to walk along the bank but the bottom was far too soft . So he was forced to walk through the toughest parts alone, As I was walking along a gravel bar near the channel catching trout cast after cast. 

Eventually we made it halfway down the long stillwater. I then said to myself that was enough as I hooked two nice fish near a large Eastern White Pine shadowing a narrow section of the river. I had put him through (in his eyes) hell I thought, we made our way through the densely vegetated rocky ground and back onto the road. I knew as much as he was complaining that he really enjoyed himself and that I could convince him to come back so he can show me up again. 

Dad; the old dog of this story, knows his way around the woods. Which is starting to get to know his way around a fly rod and the tea stained waters that we cast them in. I am eager to see him progress every year and gain a strong conservation minded attitude toward the flora and fauna of this beautiful province. 

Chris

Can you teach an old dog new tricks? Part One

Is it possible to teach an old dog new tricks? Maybe not, but I think its possible to teach an old spin fisherman how to be a successful fly fisherman. Needless to say my father is infatuated with fly fishing, the skill and art behind tying flies to hook fish. Although he doesn't tie he finds it quite interesting to see me tie and catching fish on flies his son has tied. Even if he is still an old mickey finn, muddler and olive woolly bugger kind of guy on a swung presentation. "Stan" has done well lately, catching some nice trout in still water situations where he is less experienced.



To the Left: "Stan' Trying his luck at the falls.

I had just gotten home from Charlottetown, Dad and I had been planning an overnight trip for a few months to a set of still waters that I have visited a few times. Both figuring the fishing would be amazing in the morning and evenings, and we weren't wrong. The road to the fishing area was grown-in and rough, but we made it to the washout without a scratch. We then unpacked all of our gear and started to load it onto our backs for the short kilometre hike up the alder infested road. Making it to the hardwood ridge, we decided that here was as best as any to setup camp. We setup a small eating area, clothesline, a place to store food away from animals and donned our waders and fly rods. Making our way down the old trail to the water, we each dreamed of the gems we would find in these treasured waters.

 This was dad's first time seeing the still waters and he was quite amazed. We fished a few still waters mid-day having some success but not as much as I'd hoped, we had just missed the mayfly hatch and the fish were likely stuffed. We ventured down the old rocky shoreline to the falls where last year yield lots of fish of good size. As I casted into the pool, nothing was really moving. I thought back to last year and what fly had done well there. I opened my box and saw the #6 limerick streamer hook dressed with a zonkered rabbit, mylar body and a muddler head with a cone, A Zuddler will do the trick I thought. Needless to say within a dozen casts I had harvested two beautiful trout for supper that evening, both measuring around 13 1/2 inches. We returned back to camp, after a beautiful walk through the standing woods of large pine and sucker maple, hiding our quarry with our food stash and ventured back to fish the upper still waters.  Dad was tired, and decided to relax at the stillwater nearest camp. I decided to fish the upper two still waters and caught some nice fish, but not until the run at the top of the farthest pool from base camp did I find great success.

 The fish were taking mayflies, but would not look at my streamer patterns, nymphs or even dry flies. I had just tied some dark dun CDC mayflies the week before for this trip but had left them in my box until now. As I gently landed the fly in the foam waiting for the take, slowly the fly fell through the foam and as I pulled it back up a nice fish took hold and came to hand. Learning from this fish I repeated the process and landed a few more beautiful auburn coloured gems and as each one swam back I realized how lucky I was… I took a step back and sat on the granite rock that split the current in the run, thinking about how special these fish are made me a bit emotional. I felt greatly for these fish as in the coming decades, their presence may be lost…

I returned to the pool below and heard coyotes, dad must have started supper I thought to myself, they could smell the fresh trout on the frying pan. I opened my phone to a call from him making sure I was okay, I was thinking the same thing about him. I didn't fish on the way back to camp as I was quite hungry. Thinking about the trout, bread and butter with nice cold water after a day of fishing could make most mouths water. Like I said before, conservation of this provincial fish is key but taking a two fish from a system with a healthy population will not greatly affect the overall well being of the stream. Supper was great, but I was eager back to the stream. I fished down to the lower stillwater and caught some beautiful trout on streamers and dries. But landed a nice 14 inch trout for breakfast the next morning just as it was getting dark. We walked back to the camp as the moon rose and carefully stashed it with the rest of our food and settled down for the evening.

To be continued…. 

Out of the Loop

When you leave for college everything you once knew goes out the window…friends change, new experiences arise and the big step occurs. Things are different then what you had before and but sometimes change is good. I have been out of the loop for a bit now, priorities changed and things have been much different.  One thing I do have is the tug waiting for me when I return home. I have only gotten out fishing twice this season so far. I will not likely get out until after May 15th when my classes end. Fly Tying and Fly Fishing have been put on the back burner for now, as much as I wish I was out flogging the waters of Nova Scotia or sitting at the vise I know it will be there when I return.

When you are out of the loop, it makes it so much better to go back and get out. Not fishing is something I've never experienced before, as I was always the first guy out April 1st but when I do get out fishing it is much more enjoyable and lets you appreciate what we have much more. 

I cannot wait to get back on the streams that flow through our rugged land, come tight on some beautiful gems that we have to appreciate and realize how good we have it, and should strive to protect it.

Tight Lines and Good Vibes!

Christopher

A good day but a cold one at that.

Well, its been a long winter and it may not be over yet. The snow is still around and the lakes were still very much full of ice. The night before I made it back to Stillwater after a long day on the road from Charlottetown. I then set all my gear out; waders, flies, rods and packs with Snowshoes waiting at the door… I woke early, about 7 am and ate breakfast, got dressed, put my pack on as well as my snowshoes and off I went over the hill and up the old logging road.

The walk was about 2km from home to the stream but It made it easier hoping that it would be unfrozen. I had reached the old road that crossed the stream and found the deadwater stream to be free of ice and looking quite good. I then put together my rod, tied a leader and tippet and attached the fly.. A Black Ghost Zonker was my first choice as it usually produces well. No tugs, no nothing.

Tried a few other flies and decided to change my location. Now, Im not sure it was a good idea leaving my snowshoes at my first location because in areas the snow was up to my thighs, but i trekked on.. Eventually finding some nice water, a few natural dams,as well as some big pine (dead and alive). I noticed on one Pine that was still living that it had many holes liked from a Pileated woodpecker. Also, a few Mainland Moose tracks were seen as well near that location.

As I fished on I reached the final "pool" before the stream turned quick as it ran from the lake,  it was a nice pool almost perfectly circular. This was the most promising looking spot I had found today, but no tugs or any movement. I decided to walk the stream to the lake, as I've always wanted to see what it looked like. I walked up and found the outflow was very scraggy, the stream ran through the standing woods and had no opportunity for fishing. But I decided to fish the outflow although the amount of open water was less than adequate.

 I then packed up my fly rod, reel, pack and decided it was time to head back to my little "base camp" where I had left my snowshoes in the snow poking up like little signs. This time I returned on the other side of the stream which now that I look back was a mistake. The snow was even deeper on this side and was not as compacted so I had sunk very deep into the snow and almost had gotten stuck. I made it back to my snowshoes and had a drink of the water I had brought with me as well as a granola bar for the way back.

As I walked out the old road and onto the logging road I thought of the stories about huge fish that were caught in and around those waters, I thought about how beautiful that area would be in late May or Early June… The blackflies, Mosquitos and Deer flies would be treacherous I thought, but I knew that it would likely be worth it. I made it home just as Mom was serving the Lasagna dinner, had a great dinner to complete a beautiful day at home.. Today was a great day, and I cannot wait to have many more like this one.

Chris

The walk and the reward... Part two

As Hatcher and I reach the top of the falls, we continue along the rough dark water and break into an open stillwater. A few fish are rising and we intend on spending more time on the upper stillwaters. But we take a few casts and catch a few trout around 10 or 11 inches. As I remember these fish were quite picky, one was extremely fat and quite dark in colour.

We then moved 130m upstream to the next stillwater which was a "p" shaped piece of water that was really only fishable from the inflow location. So we bushwhacked through the fir and spruce until we found ourselves at the inflow. On the left side of the inflow there was a long fallen tree that had a very deep hole under it. I tied on my #4 Mylar Minnow and took a cast, first swing a nice trout came up and grabbed it and I set the hook. It was a beautiful trout and as I took the hook out he swam away from my net and back into the run.

While Hatcher was fiddling with his gear I took another cast and hooked another trout, a bit bigger than what we caught to this point that day. It was a beautiful 12 1/2 inch gem as I netted him, I looked at Hatcher with a grin as I released the fish back into the tea stained stillwater. I then stepped away and Hatcher fished the whole inflow thoroughly and caught four or five trout on a #14 Blue Dun. Hatcher knew the mayfly was going to work as there was fly on the water today, but he didn't expect my streamer to do as well as it did. Before we left to move to the next stillwater, I took another cast under the dead tree and had a hard take, with no splash like the other fish took. He dogged down and as he came up I knew it was a good fish with a deep red belly, I got too excited and tried to horse him a bit. As he did the "brook trout roll" the hook popped out and he swam away...

We both laughed and enjoyed what had just happened but it was time to move upstream to the next stillwater. The next stillwater was about 200m upstream. It was very shallow on the lower end and very marshy along the edges, the barrens were to the left and a side hill to the right. We each caught a few fish on the way up to the inflow, I stayed on the side of the stillwater and Hatcher moved to the inflow. He caught a few brook trout there and I did really well on streamers casting into what I assumed was the bowl of the stillwater and retrieving back onto the flat. I hooked a few fish in the bowl, but most fish were boiling for mayfly right on the edge. We caught quite a few fish at that stillwater and were pleased with the beautiful colours, scenery and enjoyed each others company to explore this beautiful area.

The next stillwater was quite shallow and rocky, huge granite outcrops were visible protruding from the dark water. It was also quite long and with one big hole at the inflow that is where we fished. This was not a very productive stillwater. We both caught one fish at the inflow hole and moved on to the next stillwater which was not far. This stillwater was the closest to the lake and after this the stream had a very high gradient to the lake. As we got to the pool, fish were on the mayfly hard right at the inflow and into the back end of the stillwater. This water was very productive, catching about 8 fish each in this area. I did well on my mylar minnow downstream but I had put it away and tied on my hot head bugger as Hatcher continued to catch fish with his Blue Dun in size 14. I did really well on the hot head, but changed to a #6 wardens worry. Which I caught a few more fish on, all these fish had deep red bellies, I assume full of insects. Hatcher no doubt hit the hatch perfectly today, but I did really well on my streamer flies also...

It was late in the day and we decided to head back and fish the stillwaters on the way back. We were catching fish through all the stillwaters until we go to the second. We knew there was an old cut trail that snaked through the fir and onto an old log road system, than had quite a few jig roads off the sides. We used my iPhone's GPS to navigate the old road system and found we were only one km walk from the truck and an easy walk. As we walked back we talked about what good fishing we had that day and that we were going to do this again, stream y had treated us well that day....


We undressed from our waders, and drove back to the camp to tell our friends how well we did, turns out everyone else did quite well also. We learned our friend the "butt-slinger" had hooked two 13+ inch trout on a muddler minnow, catching the biggest fish that weekend. It was a great weekend as friends got together and did what the enjoy doing the most, telling fish stories and fishing. I cannot wait until next year to spend another weekend with a great group of friends who have a passion about trout and fly fishing like I do...

The walk and the reward... Part One

A story from May 2014 of two friends, who walk into the wilderness and are rewarded with some gems and left with memories.

As the sun rises between the clouds, the sleepy fisherman crawl from their sleeping bags and throw a plan together for a day of fishing. It was a warm and muggy mid-May day, the opposite from last year, when this weekend the snow was falling from the sky.. Friends armed with fly rods got in their vehicles and drove to their planned location, each looking to find the biggest fish. I was with my friend "Hatcher", a skilled fly fisherman who had fished in Alberta, New York's Catskills and Newfoundland. We had been to this place before as a group, but it was quite early in the spring and the weather was not exactly perfect. This time we accessed this location from a road that was took us within 1 km from where we wanted to go, but we didn't take the easy way... We decided to walk the rocky and heavily wooded riparian zone of stream y... We caught a few small brook trout in the pocket water on dry flies on the way to the stillwaters. We knew of the set of falls on this stream, so we continued upstream and found what we were looking for... It was beautiful, as the cool mist from the falls washed over us, I thought to myself, this was wilderness.

April 2013 Falls on stream y, with Hatcher to the left.

 Just as we were about to start fishing, something rolled off to the left side of the falls of a steep bank of moss and tiny black spruce. It was a beaver, obviously confused to what just happened it swam around the pool many times trying to find a way back up.... We decided to start fishing, I was fishing a small streamer fly, and "Hatcher" was fishing a dry. We both hooked a few fish in the dark, foamy waters beneath the falls, and as I was retrieving a smaller  brook trout and the fish started swimming around very erratically. As I peered into the water and kept with my retrieve I saw a brook trout about 12 inches attacking my smaller trout. This was odd to me I've never experienced this before,  I got the smaller fish in and looked at Hatcher with a smile and released the small dark backed and red coloured gem.

 I yelled at Hatcher over the roar of the falls that I was tying on a larger streamer to try and land a bigger fish. He was fishing a foamy eddy where he had hooked a few fish and one with some size. I toss in a #2 Slumbuster and immediately had a fish take, it was an odd take, not aggressive like the earlier takes it was a grab and hold take. I missed the fish, I take another cast and hook a brookie about 12 inches, no doubt the one that was attacking my smaller fish earlier. These fish were dark, but a deep red colour on the belly an odd colouration for May as these fish were not spawning. I continued on to catch a few fish around 11 inches which was an average for this pool, all with deep red bellies and a few fish with jaw shaped bite marks under the body near the anal fin. A clear indicator that what I experienced earlier was not uncommon for those fish. It was still early in the day and we decided to make our way up to the stillwaters we came to fish, little did we know what was in store for us...... 

To Be Continued...