Cheap Date in a Cheap Room

Another gem to the west, another stretch of filthy good days on the water. Day one I enjoyed with two buddies from Alden Camps (Jeff & Carter), Day two Clark, Morrell and Katherine teamed up for another crushfest.  Katherine had never landed a fish, let alone held a fly rod prior to this excursion....she was a quick study.

I'm going to treat this post like a cheap date you've taken to a cheap room; you all know what you came for so I'll skip the dialogue and get down to business.

16-21"

 

And as an added bonus I'll throw in a picture of Jon Robbins who ventured north and west to this very river and landed a slob of his own.  It's that time of year

Binge Fishing (Day 3)

Please forgive the jump to day three in what was an amazing run on moving water; I am told that the BFC Futures have a post in the works for our second day.

It was Saturday, I had been waist deep the two days prior, I was tired and quite certain that the river would be busy.  My comrades on the water would be talented, full of fire and fresh of mind and spirit.  Clark would venture north, Morrell would travel north, Walsh would venture southwest and our forces would join in battle.

Rain fell and was predicted to fall throughout the day, coupled with a significant westerly wind.  We motored into position around 6:30am, a two hour trip from my house to lines in.  To our surprise there was not another angler to be seen.

This stretch of water can go from good to great with the arrival of one determining factor....Suckers.  0 suckers in the run day 1, day 2 a half dozen showed up late in the day with a few trout behind them and day 3 began with the same few suckers at the top of the run.  The exodus of suckers had not begun just yet.

With this much talent on the water we started strong.



Numerous Brookies and Salmon came to hand from 6:30 to 10:30am but none were of the hog variety we had anticipated.  We continued to be alone on the run and at approximately 10:45 we witnessed dozens and dozens of suckers pouring into the run; they were promptly followed by some fine Brook Tout and shit immediately hit the fan.

Doubled Up

 Old Winchell enjoyed a hot stick in the early going of the sucker run

 Healthy eating with the Devil himself

Old Walshy wrapped up the day with this 23" Laker (taken on a black stone), a species not seen in this river since the late 70's....quite a catch



We had to pinch ourselves throughout the day as we experienced 'the run' which was witnessed by nobody other than ourselves.  A bunch of guys rolled in around 4:30pm and it didn't matter.  We had single handedly enjoyed a spectacle of epic proportions.  As a group we landed over 80 fish and each of us would state that is a conservative educated estimate.  The trip was simply unreal and it had it all, bad weather, sight fishing, BFC alums, wild rivers and a deserted stretch on a Saturday. 

Days like this don't happen enough but when they do a man's mind is washed of all the difficult fishing of their recent past.  We were as happy as a pig in shit, baptised in the waters of a Sucker run.  Amen.



What 'chu Talkin' Bout Sucka

Last weekend when Dad and I hit the water a friend of mine managed to sneak out for a few hours on a river just northwest of where we were fishing.  He arrived mid day and fished for three hours, most of which were completely fishless.  Suddenly he noticed a few large suckers on a gravel bar and shortly thereafter a pool filled with beefy Brook Trout jockeying for position in a slow run.  He was witnessing the start of the fabled Sucker Spawn and he proceeded to land one after another.

Throughout the week I had difficulty not thinking about it.  Friday came around and I was offered an opportunity to check it out for myself.

I arrived around 6:30am to a heavy mix of rain and snow; no other vehicles in site.  With no competition for slots on the river, I fished my way downstream toward the gravel bar where the suckers had been a few days prior. 

I stung zero fish in the first hour as I closed in on the spot.  As I walked the high bank leading up to the gravel bar I tossed on the Costas and peered down at the shallow gravel area.  Thirty or more large suckers darted around attempting to seal the deal on their annual spring ritual....game on.

If you are a Steelhead fisherman then you could have gained a great appreciation for the way I attacked the water behind the spawning Suckers on the gravel.  Several drifts in the first run and I was tight.

The action didn't stop.  While I was crouched down taking a picture of one of the trout a guide emerged from the woods with a client.  They hadn't noticed me as they came down through the woods and I startled them as they stepped down along the river.  We began talking and I enjoyed the guy.  A UMF grad in his early 40's who guides full time out of Kingfield.  He had the right combination of fly fishing badass, hardcore Mainer, and a touch of the crazies.  I thought to myself that I'd like to fish with this man, so I invited him and his client into one of the riffles where I had been making quick work of the trout. This paid off for me the very next day and on this outing the guide John netted one of my fish and graciously snapped a picture for me.

With the way this season has been going I've begun carrying a digital scale and a soft tape measure out of curiosity.  I've been weighing them in my net and taping the majority of these fish.  A man can estimate the size class of the fish he is into but I've discovered that your eyes often make a fish longer and heavier than it actually is.  When someone tells me they were catching 5lb Brook Trout I'm always hesitant to believe it. A 4lb fish in person looks outrageously massive and the elation of having landed it quickly has heavier weights and longer lengths rolling off your tongue as you tell your story.

The fish kept coming...

When the 12-16" deep riffle behind the suckers went cold I'd shift to the slower moving deeper run below it and immediately be back into the action.  When that slowed it was back to the riffle and again it was on.  Back and forth I moved and the bite continued. 

Of the roughly two dozen fish that came to net, not a single fish was under two pounds.  The icing on the cake came in the final hour as I coerced the largest Brook Trout of my career to the bank.  Still smiling about this 4lb 5oz  22.5" behemoth.

I only wish I had one of you along to experience this unbelievable day; one for the ages.