Varied Terrain, Very Fun Fishing - pt. 1

This past weekend, I had the the opportunity to fish two quite distinct types of waters for Great Lakes steelhead. First, while visiting family in Ohio, I took my brother-in-law, Shane, up to the Chagrin River on Lake Erie's famed "Steelhead Alley." Shane and I used to fish for chrome up here on spin gear when I lived in the state several years ago. He hadn't fished it yet with fly gear.

The conditions were looking good, and reports had been showing a fish picked off every day the water was fishable. So our hopes were high, but I knew I was playing the guide on waters unfamiliar to my fly rod. I felt pressure to get Shane his first chromer on the fly, but I also new with a now-one-year-old son at home, Shane was just happy to wet a line. And not having fished with him in some time, I was happy just to have an old fishing buddy back--if only for a day.

We chose to fish some new water on this old river. I forgot how gorgeous these Erie tribs are. Whether staring straight up a shale bluff in constant erosion, down a cobblestone shoal along green and white water, or across a limestone run, I was in awe all day.

And we did get Shane that first steelhead on the fly. We laughed at it's diminutive size of maybe 11", but we took seriously the milestone. Perhaps that moment gave Shane the steelhead addiction. And when we didn't have chrome to play with (um, most of the day), we had plenty of big, Great Lakes Grayling (suckers) to bend the rod. At least we knew we were getting those flies down.

Future Badass

Great Lakes Grayling

I wish I had more than a day to fish Steelhead Alley. I highly recommend these waters, and I highly recommend getting a guide that's not from out-of-state ;)

[Stayed tuned for part II of my weekend, to be continued shortly...]

Drift less, strip more

I finally made it out fishing with my buddy Ryan on Friday after a few weeks of trying to pin down some plans. We originally had agreed to try for Wisconsin steelhead, but we had to scrap that idea the night before since the lake tribs were reluctant to fall all week. So we scrambled to swap out our steelhead gear to be packed and ready for small spring creek trout in the Driftless the next morning. 

Only having one day to fish (we had decided to forego an overnight), we headed for some of the closer streams. At the first spot, it didn't take long for Ryan to hook into a nice brown. 

I probed around the bridge with a streamer to no avail. Took a hike, switched to nymphs, and got a little 'bow. 

Before the debarbing

We fished upstream and down for a good ways with no other takers despite great conditions (overcast skies, light rain, clear water). So we grabbed some day-old fast food being advertised as made-to-order and headed West to another river.

Yea, that way

The fish in this river were plentiful but well educated. But it was fun to watch them rise all afternoon and spook at the sight of fly line high over the water. They wanted nothing of our caddis. 

Ryan got a tip from a friend via cell phone as we passed through what little area had signal. It sounded good and was back in the direction home, so we went to check it out. A few wrong turns later, we were one intersection away, but we couldn't turn down the water we were rolling over on our way. So we stopped to check out a wide, deep-ish section of stream that was a little off-color. With the low light and slow water, we decided it was streamer time. 

Pretty soon thereafter, Ryan hollered from downstream that he has his personal best rainbow on the line--a bright red fish he claims to be 20" or more. Wanting to see what he was probably lying about, I began to jog his way, but in the fresh mud of the stream banks, I slipped and busted my ass. When I arose, Ryan's rod no longer had any bend in it, and he looked defeated. The big 'bow had kept his streamer and wanted no part of a photo-op. I decided to copy Ryan's retrieve but got nothing at first. Ryan tied on an even bigger streamer and started getting aggressive takes, but most weren't staying buttoned up. Finally, he landed a 12" brown trout. A few casts later, I heard what sounded like a 5-gallon bucket of water being dumped in the water. I turned toward Ryan to see a giant boil near the end of his line, and Ryan was shouting that it's the same rainbow from before! He's going to get his streamer back! But alas, the fish would evade us once more. 

I was thinking this is crazy nonsense, but I upsized my streamer anyway. I find the biggest rabbit strip/marabou/ice dub/lead eye/jig hook thing in my box and tie it on to my 6lb test leader on a 5-weight rod. Strip, pause, strip, strip, strip, pause...BOOM! Strip-setting, I only managed to part the line with my giant fly and what I can only imagine is the same fish that Ryan had now lost twice. I couldn't see the fish that stole my fly, and I didn't even get to fight it. 

The takes, in general, became more common in the next hour, and we landed a few more brownies. We missed more fish than we hooked. 

Once more, I made a sloppy cast slightly upstream with a conehead streamer and waited for it to sink. Without stripping the fly even once, the line jolted and was almost torn from under my finger on the grip. I set the hook, and a giant, bright red fish surfaced. I told Ryan to get his eyes and his net over to the action on my line (actually, what I said was, "DUDE! I got your fish! Holy $#@*"). He got down to water level and begins sinking in the mud. But with a few swipes of the net, the fish was caught. We moved up onto more solid ground (snow) to de-hook and measure the fish--turned out to be 21" on the nose.  We were in awe. But we were a little upset she didn't bring our other streamers back to us. Back at the muddy water's edge, we snapped some pics. Water on the lens. Mud everywhere. A few pics in, the fish decided it was time to stop messing with her two foolish admirers, and she bolted out of my hands.

It was a long drive home, but we were glad to end the night on a high note. 

Drift less, strip more

I finally made it out fishing with my buddy Ryan on Friday after a few weeks of trying to pin down some plans. We originally had agreed to try for Wisconsin steelhead, but we had to scrap that idea the night before since the lake tribs were reluctant to fall all week. So we scrambled to swap out our steelhead gear to be packed and ready for small spring creek trout in the Driftless the next morning. 

Only having one day to fish (we had decided to forego an overnight), we headed for some of the closer streams. At the first spot, it didn't take long for Ryan to hook into a nice brown. 

I probed around the bridge with a streamer to no avail. Took a hike, switched to nymphs, and got a little 'bow. 

Before the debarbing

We fished upstream and down for a good ways with no other takers despite great conditions (overcast skies, light rain, clear water). So we grabbed some day-old fast food being advertised as made-to-order and headed West to another river.

Yea, that way

The fish in this river were plentiful but well educated. But it was fun to watch them rise all afternoon and spook at the sight of fly line high over the water. They wanted nothing of our caddis. 

Ryan got a tip from a friend via cell phone as we passed through what little area had signal. It sounded good and was back in the direction home, so we went to check it out. A few wrong turns later, we were one intersection away, but we couldn't turn down the water we were rolling over on our way. So we stopped to check out a wide, deep-ish section of stream that was a little off-color. With the low light and slow water, we decided it was streamer time. 

Pretty soon thereafter, Ryan is hollering from downstream that he has his personal best rainbow on the line--a bright red fish he claims to be 20" or more. Wanting to see what he was probably lying about, I began to jog his way, but in the fresh mud of the stream banks, I slipped and busted my ass. When I arose, Ryan's rod no longer had any bend in it, and he looked defeated. The big 'bow had kept his streamer and wanted no part of a photo-op. I decided to copy Ryan's retrieve but got nothing at first. Ryan tied on an even bigger streamer and started getting aggressive takes, but most weren't staying buttoned up. Finally, he landed a 12" brown trout. A few casts later, I heard what sounded like a 5-gallon bucket of water being dumped in the water. I turned toward Ryan to see a giant boil near the end of his line, and Ryan was shouting that it's the same rainbow from before! He's going to get his streamer back! But alas, the fish would evade us once more. 

I was thinking this is crazy nonsense, but I upsized my streamer anyway. I find the biggest rabbit strip/marabou/ice dub/lead eye/jig hook thing in my box and tie it on to my 6lb test leader on a 5-weight rod. Strip, pause, strip, strip, strip, pause...BOOM! Strip-setting, I only managed to part the line with my giant fly and what I can only imagine is the same fish that Ryan has now lost twice. I couldn't see the fish that stole my fly, and I didn't even get to fight it. 

The takes, in general, became more common in the next hour, and we landed a few more brown trout. We missed more fish than we hooked. 

Once more, I made a sloppy cast slightly upstream with a conehead streamer and waited for it to sink. Without stripping the fly even once, the line jolted and was almost torn from under my finger on the grip. I set the hook, and a giant, bright red fish surfaces. I tell Ryan to get his eyes and his net over to the action on my line (actually, what I said was, "DUDE! I got your fish! Holy $#@*"). He gets down to water level and begins sinking in the mud. But with a few swipes of the net, the fish was caught. We moved up onto more solid ground (snow) to de-hook and measure the fish--turned out to be 21" on the nose.  We were in awe. But we were a little upset she didn't bring our other streamers back to us. Back at the muddy water's edge, we snapped some pics. Water on the lens. Mud everywhere. A few pics in, the fish decided it was time to stop messing with her two foolish admirers, and she bolted out of my hands.

It was a long drive home, but we were glad to end the night on a high note. 

Chi-Tie #2 is Tomorrow 3/11 !

Our second "Chi-Tie" downtown Chicago flytying social event will be tomorrow night (Monday, March 11, 2013) as scheduled, from 6:30pm until 9:30pm. We'll be at a basement bar called "Galway Bay" at 500 W. Diversey. Kurt Kopala, editor of A Tight Loop magazine, will be doing a demo tie of a Kelly Galloup pattern.  We will also be collecting flies for a donation to the Tie-A-Fly Giveaway to benefit flyfishing charity groups. You can donate the flies you tie or bring some from home. Come on down, have a good drink, some laughs, swap fish stories, make fishing plans, tie some flies, and help some charities. Represent and reinforce Chi-town's great flyfishing community.

See you all there,

-T.A.


PS. Pedestal vises are encouraged.

Bugging Me

 I've been squeezing in an hour or two at the vise when I can, and below are some recent bugs. I've been so busy lately that it's been hard to get solid vise-time in. It bugs me to not tie bugs. Since I don't tie for a living, there's the working me and the 'bugging me.'

With little time in each session, I've gone with different styles and forage for each sitting. Tiny crayfish, meaty crayfish, small minnows, and wide-bodied baitfish.

Don't forget, if you're in Chicago this Monday, March 11, stop by the Chi-Tie social flytying event at Galway Bay, 500 W Diversey from 6:30pm-9:30pm. Must be 21 or older. See you there!