Articles

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.

GEOBASS Papua New Guinea Black Bass

Chances are you've never heard of Papua New Guinea black bass. If you have, you know that PNG black bass are rumored to be far and away the hardest fighting freshwater fish in the world, snapping lines and exploding rods whenever they are encountered.

In the finale episode of Costa Del Mar's GEOBASS, the multi-award winning adventure film series that tracks a group of fly fisherman as they globe trot in search of the most exotic and powerful bass species out there, the cameras head out into remote stretches of Papua New Guinea in search of these powerful monsters of lore and legend.

Cedar Run (photo: Chad Shmukler).

It's tater weather. As summer yields to the first inklings of fall water is boiled, potatoes are peeled and cubed and a mashed, starchy treat appears next to sliced meat. I take my mashed taters with plenty of butter and salt and fresh ground pepper. I won't refuse a dab of sour cream but one runs the danger of making a damn fine thing too good, too rich.

As the evenings cool I also begin to think about the small streams that I've let lie fallow since spring. While many of these little gems run relatively cool through the summer months it just doesn't seem right to fish them when so many other factors are stacked against them. As the weather turns wetter and cool evenings keep water temperatures moderate I don't feel so bad luring a trout to take a swipe at a well placed Parachute Adams. So I give it a go with low expectations of success.

Pages