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A Lehigh River brown trout (photo: Chad Shmukler).

There is a well-heeled saying in fishing that virtually everyone has heard uttered many times, "Never leave fish to find fish." And it's well heeled for a reason. The bulk of the game in fishing is being in the right place at the right time and having the fish reveal themselves to you. Still, I'll often have to remind myself that even if the fish I've found aren't taking flies with abandon, it can often be foolish to head off for greener pastures which I assume lie just around the next bend. In reality, they rarely do. Patience is a valuable tool when on the river.

Strangely, my tendency towards a lack of patience when I'm getting shots and missing them is flipped on its ear when the opportunities aren't there. Often, I'll head to the river with a game plan in mind, and cling to it for far too long.

Recently, a good friend and I headed out for a float on Pennsylvania's Lehigh River. To put it kindly, we're both new to the art of oarsmanship. But, we've been toting around our new FlyCraft Stealth drift boat for the last couple of months and doing our best to find chances to float. Unlike the west, the east coast isn't flush with drift boat water, especially that which doesn't involve long drives and multi-day time investments. So, when we heard that fall weather had brought water temperatures into shape on the Lehigh -- which is just over an hour's drive from home -- we jumped on it, toting visions of long dry fly drifts and rising trout, mixed with judicious nymphing of the Lehigh's plentiful riffles and runs.

When one of my fly fishing sisters handed me the Fatal Attractor, I couldn't wait to give it a try. "Browns love this one!" is what she told me. The first time I tied this fly on my line, I threw it right on a smooth pool that stood between rushing waters from the mini waterfalls. On my first cast, a huge brown trout's head came up from the water and took my fly. Since then, I have fished this pattern with great success in different parts of the river when terrestrials were on the trout's menu.

HOOK: #10 dry
THREAD: 6/0 black. 6/0 red (for the head - optional)
TAIL: Red Krystal Flash
BODY: Prism Dubbing in Olive
HAIR: Elk Hair
WING: Calf body or in this case, white floating yarn
HACKLE: Grizzly Saddle

Photo: lenkii.

On one of the less storied stretches of the Housatonic River there's a long riffle that pauses twice creating two very fishy places. I've fished this spot regularly over the past few years. While these spots are no great secret, they attract far less traffic for a variety of reasons. First, they're relatively harder to access than other spots. The well worn paths go upstream and downstream. Second, during most water levels they look relatively featureless with little obvious opportunity for holding water. Finally, the folks who fish it keep mum about it.

On Saturday the water was low. I expected some exposed riffle based upon the gage reading but what greeted me when I got there was a surprising lack of water. I was still thirty feet from damp ground and the main current was on the far bank. A short ways upstream an angler sat high and dry upon a boulder that was normally under water. He was just at the edge of the first good spot so I walked upstream over the dried cobble to the second pool.

The Glines Canyon Dam before its removal (photo: Ben Knight, DamNation).

Last week, two National Park Service staff members went snorkeling in the Elwha River upstream of the site where the now fully removed Glines Canyon Dam once stood. The purpose of their outing was to confirm the possible sighting of chinook salmon in the Upper Elwha, in the area that was not too long ago home to Lake Mills and where chinook salmon have not swam in 102 years.

The snorkel surveyors found three adult chinook, all between 30 and 36 inches long, between Windy Arm and Glines Canyon. According to the National Park Service, "two fish were seen resting near submerged stumps of ancient trees [while] the third was found in a deep pool in the former Lake Mills."

"When dam removal began three years ago, Chinook salmon were blocked far downstream by the Elwha Dam," said Olympic National Park Superintendent Sarah Creachbaum. "Today, we celebrate the return of Chinook to the upper Elwha River for the first time in over a century."

It's Not You, Honey. It's Me.

This dalliance with the old girlfriend seemed cheap and tawdry
Photo: Mike Sepelak

"Meetup location sounds good. I'll give you a call when I leave Harry's with the boat. I plan to bring a spinning rod along with my fly rod. I've been catching some bass on swim baits on the pond here at Five Points. So feel free to bring a spinning rod if you want."

It took some digging, but I found it. Tucked into the backmost corner of the deepest reaches of the basement. Hidden behind a flaccid float tube and a roll of plastic deer fencing. Draped in cobwebs and dust. The forgotten stick. My old 5’9” Shimano BW-2593 Bull Whip Graphite Fightin’ Rod. Medium Bass/Walleye Special Action. Quantum Escalade loaded with Fire Line. Fat black jitterbug, still strung from some midnight foray to the pond down the hill, years past.

I was young and foolish then.

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