Articles

Bristol Bay Rainbow Trout

The long awaited final scientific assessment of the potential impacts from large-scale mining in the Bristol Bay region of Alaska was released earlier this week by the United States Environmental Protection Agency. The pictured painted by the assessment is a grim one for the salmon of Bristol Bay, the ecosystem they drive and the native cultures and modern economies that depend on their survival and abundance.

The assessment states unequivocally that construction of a mine such as Pebble Mine, under the most extensive mining scenario, would result in the total loss of 94 miles of salmon-producing streams simply by virtue of the footprint required for mining operations to take place. Also resulting from the mine footprint would be streamflow alterations over 20 percent or more in 33 miles of streams and the loss of almost 5,000 acres of crucial wetland habitat.

The report goes on to detail a litany of additional negative impacts that could result from mining operations in the region, the majority of which are described by the report as "expected" or "likely" due to comparisons with the history of existing, similar mining operations. Detailed are impacts resulting from leakage during routine operations, wastewater treatment plant failures, spillway releases, culvert failures, pipeline failures, tailings dam failures, truck accidents and more.

Be even more obsessive when you're fishing a shallow, rocky, snag lined run like this one.

I go through life with, for the most part, a cavalier attitude. I’m lousy with organization, terrible with abiding by deadlines, dismissive of rules and regulations due to their perceived silliness and critical of people who spend their time compulsively obsessing over minutiae. While it is fair to say that this approach to life most certainly causes me some level of complication, it is a personality trait I’m proud of, one I embrace. Put simply, I believe things generally tend to work out, and that obsessing over details is a waste of time. That is, except when it comes to fly rigs.

When on the water, I strive to obsess over minutiae. That’s my goal. I haven’t gotten there yet. But I’m trying. This means rebelling against my every instinct. And it isn’t easy. But I believe it is important. As opposed to the rest of life’s silly details, which require attention I’m unwilling to devote, obsessing over your fly rig is not only not a waste of time, it’s essential.

If I fail to renew my driver’s license before it expires, I can still drive (albeit illegally). Forget to pay the water bill on time? I can still take a shower (for a while). But, if I fail to pay attention to my fly rig, to regularly check that it remains the same rig I built and tossed into the water before casting it, there’s a good chance I’m no longer fishing.

The height of summer on one of Pennsylvania's many wild trout streams.

Pennsylvania conservatives in the House and Senate have been aggressively seeking to undermine the ability of state agencies to protect wild and endangered species since June of of last year. The mechanisms through which these efforts have been channeled is Pennsylvania House Bill 1576 and Senate Bill 1047, otherwise known as the Endangered Species Act. The most recent revision of HB 1576 has been met by success, passing through the House Game & Fisheries committee in November of this year, and now sits awaiting listing for a vote on the House floor.

If the bill becomes law, it will dramatically diminish the ability of the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission (PFBC) and Pennsylvania Game Commission (PGC) to protect wild trout and endangered species throughout the state by miring the now independent processes of these agencies within a heavily politicized, bureaucratic process that serves to produce the opposite of the effects its proponents use to justify the bills' proposal.

The Beaverkill Rods Legacy Series 3 weight at home on these small stream testing grounds.

The company line: "If you enjoy the feel of a classic fly rod, with the smooth, easy casting capability combined with the technical advances of the day, our Full Flex rods are going to feel great in your hand. Although this family makes a great beginner's rod, these rods are really designed for those who simply prefer a slower action -- and they are the perfect fit for smaller streams and ponds.

My Take

“Son! Stocks may rise and fall. Utilities and transportation systems may collapse. People are no damn good. But they will always need land and they will pay through the nose to get it. ‘Remember,’ my father said, ‘Land.’” (Lex Luthor)

Such is the case when it comes to construction and performance of fly rods, I believe. The less area you have to work with, the more a product’s flaws are likely to show. Translation: it’s easier to build a 9’ 5 wt. that performs well than it is a much smaller rod.

A spawning McKenzie River spring chinook salmon (photo: Matt Stansbury).

Like most Oregonians, I cherish the McKenzie River. The McKenzie has a special place in my heart. For the past 30 years it’s where I’ve spent the most time. As a father of two young children, as owner of The Caddis Fly angling shop and as a licensed river guide, I’m lucky to spend around 125 days a year on the McKenzie in some capacity.

Many Oregonians and tourists from near and far flock to the one-of-a-kind McKenzie River to enjoy its beauty. The crystal clear water, the beautiful forests along its banks, and its varied flows make the river an ideal place to fish, raft, hike along, and just plain enjoy life.

As the owner of a fishing business, I depend on the McKenzie and its tributaries — and the current state of the fishery and fish management on the McKenzie troubles me. In particular, I’m concerned about our most-prized and sought after fish: wild spring chinook salmon. The chinook is the king of the McKenzie. It is the anchor to this fantastic west Cascades stream — the ecosystem’s most critical native.

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