wild trout – Dirt Roads and Blue Lines

Fish Karma

August 1, 2019August 5, 2019Chase Howard

“Damn, this looks good,” I gushed about the smallish, roiling pocketwater in front of us.

Etienne agreed, “Yeah, it’s really good. That big rapid is full of big fish, but usually if people can hook them, they take them downstream and break off.”

It was easy to see how this would happen. Big fish have a knack for doing exactly what’s required of them to be a hassle, and ultimately, escape. We sat on the bank and observed the pool. Plenty of big caddis were struggling in the current before popping off the surface. Just enough to see exactly the fish I was looking for. “Oh dude, that was a good one.”

“Do your thing.”

I peeled line off the reel and dropped the slack to the ground as I set my feet on the river’s edge. Curved-Reach Cast to the right, I thought to myself as my No. 8 olive and yellow Stimulator sailed toward the target. Mend, mend, nothing. A good drift with no response. I tried a similar shot and got a splashy rise. A nice brookie that was 8 or 10 inches, but respectively a minnow in these rivers. Back he went. Two more drifts went through with no response before he came up and grabbed another natural.

“Tough current,” I admitted and Etienne nodded with acknowledgement.

“Yep, it is.“

On the next cast, the fly drifted downstream freely, just on the other side of the main current, in front of the submerged boulder we knew the fish was sitting under. The river was deep and we knew it would take a real commitment for him to rise. The surface bulged and the white and black mouth of a rising brook trout engulfed the shaggy imitation.

“Yep!” I shouted. The fish bulled down toward the bottom, from one side of the pool to the other. And then he did what we knew he would do. He took off downstream in the heavy current. “Here we go!” Etienne laughed with subdued excitement as he grabbed the net and trotted down the trail just behind the alders.

On my way down the bank my rod doubled over, applying side pressure to coax him into the calmer water at our feet. The cagey char had wrapped himself around a big boulder and the line stopped. Etienne strode down the trail making sure I had a clear path and a net man ready. Suddenly, he realized I was no longer following him.

“Well, that was fun!” he joked while stepping back to where I had stopped with the line still taught. I tried twice to free the line from the snag, still skeptical of why the line remained under tension. On the third or fourth attempt, I threw in a little extra effort and displayed my impressively small vertical leap. Coupled with a circular overhead sweep of the rod tip and line, everything dislodged over the top of the rock, and the fish continued downstream with violent headshakes. As we followed the somehow still connected fish down the main flow Etienne chuckled, “Oh, you are so lucky!”

The luck got even more laughable. After we got around the boulder garden and downstream of the fish, he was ready to give up and slid neatly into the net. Shaking his head, Etienne muttered, “Man, you’ve got some crazy fish karma.”

Call it whatever you’d like. Luck, karma, or the result of fishing size 8 dry flies on 2X, I’ll take it. I sat on the bank and replaced my absolutely shredded leader and took a moment to soak it all in. Everything that could have gone wrong did and somehow we were still fortunate enough to capture and release a stunning trout. The only thing left to do was to set off to find the next rising trout.

Labrador

July 18, 2019August 5, 2019Chase Howard

“I’m not sure you should be reading that,” lamented my dad. He saw his old copy of Trout Bum by John Gierach at the top of my stack of text books as I was packing up to head back to Philadelphia after the holidays. “You’ll quit school and move out West.” Honestly, how did I not quit school and move out west?

In my days at Drexel, you were more likely to find me sucked into tales about one of Gierach’s fishing trips than one of my engineering text books. Shocker. The story that stuck with me most of all was the one about fishing dry flies for brook trout that were measured in pounds. In what kind of other galaxy was this even remotely possible? Labrador.

Labrador was always kind of a magic word to me. Where the hell was this place? A long way away, but I knew, someday, I had to go there. More recently my uncle was visiting us from Maine for a family get together and asked my dad and I, “Would you like to go to Labrador?” Um, YES.

My uncle personally knew a guide who hosted trips and one of his destinations was in the magical land of mega brook trout. Over the course of a year and a half of hoarding vacation time and extra cash, the excitement began to build. Fifteen or so years ago, I had read about this place and now somehow it was our next destination.

I’m not going to lie, expectations were very high, but having never been somewhere like this, I didn’t have any idea what was realistic. Well, expectations were met and exceeded. I have never seen better fishing in my entire life. It was an adventure from the minute we said we were in. Skeptical Canadian Border Crossing Guards, driving 120 km/hr on sketchy dirt roads through Quebec, not speaking a lick of French, missing ferries across the Gulf of St. Lawrence, float plane delay days, and learning about birds and edible plants in the boreal forest all paled in comparison to the brook trout fishery.

We were spoiled with finely prepared French cuisine, escorted to the best sections of river in wooden square stern canoes propelled by 20 horse short shaft outboards, greeted anxiously by ravenous mosquitoes and black flies wherever we went, and welcomed back to camp by Zula the wonder dog. Caddisflies, mayflies, and stoneflies hatched steadily every day. If fish weren’t willing to look up, they would usually react with a well presented streamer. Most often though, it was the dry flies they wanted. Who was I to argue!

It’s been a dream of mine to go to Labrador for years and it’s still sinking in that we got to experience such an incredible place. Sharing the journey with my dad and uncle made it even more unforgettable. Watching kyped beaks break the surface for emerging caddis in margins of rapid rivers, followed behind by a vermiculated dorsal and broad red tail waving like a flag will forever be burned into my brain.

Fishing Buddies

April 16, 2019August 5, 2019Chase Howard

I can’t imagine having better fishing buddies. It’s funny the way it evolves, too. One day a guy you’ve fished with only a few times says, “I’ve got a guy we really should take along sometime.” A few years later, you don’t remember what it was like fishing without either of them.

When I got started fly fishing, it was almost always by myself. Now, it’s rare. Sharing those good or bad times on the river with close friends makes it a whole different experience. They get to razz you when you totally blow a cast or a drift. And it’s ok, because they have hooksets you are still rolling about from several seasons ago. One of my recent favorites was Kris recalling, “Dude, remember the fish last year that refused you 4 times and just moved a few feet down each time? That was so awesome.” Yeah, uh that was… great? Thanks a lot. Haha.

It feels jaded to say, but fish, spots, and beautiful, contrasting colors all seem to run together. Vivid memories of good days on the water with good friends never seem to fade.

Soak It In

March 11, 2019August 5, 2019Chase Howard

A few years ago I made a trip out to Arkansas with a buddy and we saw a grand total of 4 hours of meager generation and nothing else but minimum flows for four days. With almost no discussion, we knew what it meant. Four days of fishing until 2 am, getting some quick sleep and a shower, and back on the water by 6 am. I feel like, two years later, I’m ready to admit that was hard haha. Would I do it again tomorrow? Just say go.

We knew we only had a few days and wanted to see as much as humanly possible. We fished with Alex Lafkas during the day and put some good numbers of fish in the boat. With skimpy flows we just weren’t finding the size that system is known for. Pat told me that night that the tone was set when, after Alex netted the first 18″ fish, he asked me if I wanted to get a pic. My answer should have been a little more tactful than, “mmm… No, let’s keep fishing.”

I personally learned a ton fishing and hanging out with Alex and seeing a new river. He was very helpful pointing us to spots to check out on our own and had us into fish even when he wasn’t around. No one can MAKE the fish eat, but we did our damnedest to try! We ended up getting a handful of good ones we wouldn’t have if we’d mailed in. Sometimes, you gotta just get after it.

I’m pretty lucky to fish with some die hard anglers: buddies, guides, and some assorted weirdos. They make me a better angler and a better person. They make me push the limits for “comfortable” and find out what is really possible. Surround yourself with people who are thoughtful and better anglers than yourself. People who ask you to explain why you’re doing things the way you are and expect a damn good answer.

You have to have goals in mind. It really is important to push yourself. Just don’t forget to take time to sit back, crack a beer, and appreciate the moments ingrained in trying to find fish. There is certainly a dichotomy to all this. Sometimes you have to get out there and bust it and sometimes you have to accept the bite is off or the bugs aren’t hatching. Fish hard anyway, but take time to grab some food, share some stories, and joke around with your buddies. Ask some questions and treat ‘bad’ fishing as an opportunity to learn something and test some theories. Get out there and live it. Soak it in.

Hatch Hunting

July 26, 2018August 5, 2019Chase Howard

Regardless of what’s happening in the world, political bullshit, work bullshit, all bullshit, it all has a tendency to drift away with rushing currents, wind drifts, or tides. It’s like you cease to exist in the real world, at least for a little while, and submit to the natural order of things.

To me, it’s never more evident than chasing hatches and rising trout. It’s a perpetual quest to be in the right place, at the right time, with the right conditions. Witnessing the perennial transition of mayflies from nymph to subimago, imago, and eventually a dead bug on the water surface that a trout can’t resist gulping down is the essence of fly fishing.

It’s almost cruel how short the prime dry fly season is in the east. That just makes it more critical to make hay while the sun shines and let the calendar and conditions set your course. Every year is different though and I think that’s a big part of what renews the fever, year after year. It’s such a refreshing challenge.

Early on, the mysticism of mayflies and the trout “jumping” on the surface is what brought me to pick up a fly rod without really understanding what I was witnessing. The fish were acting ridiculous and I wanted to be in on the secret. Years later, I’m neglecting sleep and stumbling through pastoral settings in the dark, hoping that I went far enough to avoid that long abandoned barbed wire fence and countless other things so I can stay long enough and search for risers. The stranger thing is finding yourself neglecting fishing time to plant trees along those creeks, recording water temperatures and chemical properties, and meeting with professionals to coordinate construction and permitting to stack logs in creeks just to hopefully create more opportunities.

Whatever your in-road is to fly fishing, whatever the species or setting, jump in with both feet. You’ll be amazed where the journey takes you.

Wood is Good

May 2, 2018August 5, 2019Chase Howard

As I work on getting new stories together for the site, I’d like to post a few from the old site – for old times sake. Here is the first throwback post. Enjoy (or re-enjoy).

FBD Logs — FBD – Will the engineering geeks, please stand up?
(Graphic:USDA Computational Design Tool for Evaluating the Stability of Large Wood Structures)

It was Tuesday, February 23rd (2016). I was at work and it was freezing outside. I had an email pop in on my phone. “Large Wood Structures for Aquatic Ecosystem Restoration and Management Workshop.” I swear I did a double take.

The class was being organized by the US Forestry Service, Trout Unlimited, and the White River Partnership with the description, The workshop will teach aquatic restoration practitioners the design methodology to engineer log structures that mimic the form and function of naturally occurring log jams. Topics covered will include the role of wood in ecosystems, design of engineered wood structures, and all salient topics of large wood restoration. Here’s the kicker – the class was free. Unfortunately, it was in Vermont, 450 miles away. Oh well, it was probably going to be cool.

When I glanced over at my calendar, I just so happened to see the words “Flat Water Clinic – Twin Ponds” in the adjacent squares. No flippin’ way. I was due to be in the Adirondacks, just down the road from Vermont, for a stillwater fly fishing clinic the day after the workshop ended. Call me Mike Wolfe (American Pickers) because I just became king of the bundle!

The class was three days long. Two days in a classroom setting and one day of site visits. Presenters ranged from Forestry Service folks, to private consultants doing river restoration work, to people from local Trout Unlimited chapters. Everything was discussed from planning and permitting, to management and monitoring.

The location of the class was chosen in order to take an in-depth look at a Large Wood Project that had been successfully implemented. In response to the devastation in New England from Hurricane Irene, the Vermont Highway Department entered a section of the White River and began hauling loads of river gravel away to fill washed out roads. Some sections of river in this area were the straightest I had ever seen and had very homogeneous gradation of gravel. The rivers are full of wild trout, but very few reach larger sizes in the degraded habitat.

Due to the amount of trout I’ve pulled out of wood habitat, I was sold on the benefit of wood in rivers before I arrived. However, the technical back story of wood’s effects on rivers was really driven home. For centuries, we have removed wood from stream channels for transportation of timber during log drives and FEAR of the negative impacts we’ve been told wood has during flood events. This could not be farther from the truth.

A straightened river is an unhealthy river. Flash flooding, poor sediment retention, and shitty fish habitat are a few of the obvious issues with homogeneous channels. Over the years, with increased velocities, stream channels become “incised” and cut themselves off from the flood plain. So what does it mean when a stream doesn’t have access to the floodplain?

Geek Break!

Q = V x A

Ah yes, let’s revisit Algebra 1. You know, it has no relation to everyday life right? Why will you ever need that? In the equation above, Q is volumetric flowrate (cubic feet per second, or (ft^3)/s), V is velocity (feet per second, ft/s), and A is cross-sectional area (square feet, (ft^2)).

So what does that actually mean? When the amount of water coming down stream increases, and the area stays the same (because it can’t spread out over the floodplain) your velocity goes up. More velocity; means more energy, means more scour and erosion.

So how does wood come into play? Wood slows the flow and helps retain and sort various sized stone and sediment particles. Think, have you ever been on a stream where all the stones were roughly the same size? Was it a fairly straight channel? How was the fishing?

Wood can remedy these issues by creating step pool elements which can act as grade control, it can define channel boundaries, it can create and maintain scour in the areas we want it, and it increases floodplain roughness. By increasing floodplain roughness, you force the water to take the path of least resistance and redevelop stream meander in areas where it is currently absent. Wood is deposited on the outside of bends and over time forms log jams which fortify the bank and create habitat.

Large wood on the Outside bend. Note the pool forming in front and debris accumulating on the inside after only 1 year.

Demonstrating the relationship between compacted and non-compacted soil.

Wood can, unfortunately accumulate and have adverse impacts on bridges and culverts when it occurs in the wrong setting. Maintenance and monitoring of drainage infrastructure is critical under any circumstance. Large wood is not something to be messed with, but without it, the health of our streams and the quality of fishing is not going to improve. If there is more large wood in streams, more complex structures will accumulate and will be less likely to move and create problems.

When I went to this class, I expected to walk away with tools and design knowledge for implementing wood structures to improve our streams through Trout Unlimited. I got that, but what I also learned was that we need to educate the general public that wood has endless benefits in stream channels. If we can get people to leave the wood that accumulates through natural recruitment in streams, we will see huge, low-cost benefits. So many landowners want to remove wood at the first opportunity because it was common practice for over a century. Even now, I occasionally happen upon un-permitted wood removals and stream channelization to mitigate effects from flooding. One thing is for sure, if wood is removed from streams and channelization and incision continue, flooding will only get worse.

Over the last couple years, we’ve been hearing about the invasive Woolly Adelgid attacking our Hemlock population. I have lost a bit of sleep thinking about the warming that will occur in our headwater streams without shade from these ubiquitous evergreens. One of the speakers totally changed my “doom and gloom” outlook on this impending environmental disaster. “Instead of worrying about the catastrophic loss of hemlocks, think of it as a once in a generation opportunity for wood to be restored through natural recruitment.” Wow. He was absolutely right. If we can educate the masses to NOT remove these dead trees, we could restore the natural wood load so much more than we could by adding structures. Here’s our chance to improve the fishing, people. All we have to do is not screw it up.

There was a little room for fun while I was in Vermont. My wife went with me to the Green Mountain State and we sampled some fantastic local food. I was also able to cross Vermont off the list of places where I had never caught a brook trout!

Bluelining Vermont – Note the Voluntary Large Wood!

Bridge over Lake Champlain… Headed to the Adirondacks.