Small Stream Love.

On another outing from labor day weekend, I hit up some of my favorite waters near my hometown. These waters are very small and contain numerous wild browns and the occasional brook trout. In the latter part of summer they can be difficult to fish because of low flows, spooky trout, and the overgrowth of the flora and fauna that seems to takeover the stream. Nevertheless, I love this challenge and look forward to it every year. 

Whatever You Do Frodo, Stay Off The Road.

Summer Tunnels On The Chutes.

The Toughest Hole To Fish, Also Holds The Biggest Fish.

Huge Undercut Under Massive Evergreen.

Brown From Undercut.

One of the first sizable holes I fished almost always contains a nice sized fish or two. But I was shocked when on my first cast, a large brook trout took my butch caddis at the head of the riffle. The size of the fish was unexpected and a weak hook-set resulted in a lost fish after one head shake. In these waters, strong hook sets are a no no, due to the overhanging branches and bushes. One missed set and your rig more than likely will be the start of a new bird nest. After this near miss, I took a break and waited for another shot at the big brook trout.

Darker Brown.

The Butch Caddis Scores Big.

Almost Stole My Chance At The Brookie.

After a little while, I took another cast and along the same seam, a nice sized brown took my caddis imitation. I quickly steered him in and landed the brown who blended perfectly with the bottom of the stream. I now realized that my chances of taking the brook trout were growing slim since I had pricked him & caught a fish right on top of him. I waited again, and tied on a small club sandwich, hoping for a different look. Nothing happened. I swallowed my pride and tied on a dropper. The fish was mine on the first drift. 

Black Mouth.

The Brookie In All His Glory.

After Swallowing My Pride, The Dropper Scored.

Further upstream, lies a meadow with some of the wariest trout I have ever fished for. They spook easily and disappear under grass-lined undercut banks on both sides of the thin corridor. I rarely even have a chance to see them before I spook them. Up to this point I had never caught one of these fish out of the meadow. I decided to give them another shot. I kept the club sandwich on, but lost the dropper. I false casted away from the water over the tall grass and arched a long one way upstream. The 12 foot leader unrolled and the club landed with a plop along a deep undercut. The brown exploded on the sandwich and I had to stand on my tip toes to get my 7ft rod over the grass and lead him down the 4ft wide section of stream to my feet. It was one of the prettiest browns I had seen in a long time.

The Meadow.

Meadow Brown, Really Red Spots.

The Undercut.

Small Stream Love.

On another outing from labor day weekend, I hit up some of my favorite waters near my hometown. These waters are very small and contain numerous wild browns and the occasional brook trout. In the latter part of summer they can be difficult to fish because of low flows, spooky trout, and the overgrowth of the flora and fauna that seems to takeover the stream. Nevertheless, I love this challenge and look forward to it every year. 

Whatever You Do Frodo, Stay Off The Road.

Summer Tunnels On The Chutes.

The Toughest Hole To Fish, Also Holds The Biggest Fish.

Huge Undercut Under Massive Evergreen.

Brown From Undercut.

One of the first sizable holes I fished almost always contains a nice sized fish or two. But I was shocked when on my first cast, a large brook trout took my butch caddis at the head of the riffle. The size of the fish was unexpected and a weak hook-set resulted in a lost fish after one head shake. In these waters, strong hook sets are a no no, due to the overhanging branches and bushes. One missed set and your rig more than likely will be the start of a new bird nest. After this near miss, I took a break and waited for another shot at the big brook trout.

Darker Brown.

The Butch Caddis Scores Big.

Almost Stole My Chance At The Brookie.

After a little while, I took another cast and along the same seam, a nice sized brown took my caddis imitation. I quickly steered him in and landed the brown who blended perfectly with the bottom of the stream. I now realized that my chances of taking the brook trout were growing slim since I had pricked him & caught a fish right on top of him. I waited again, and tied on a small club sandwich, hoping for a different look. Nothing happened. I swallowed my pride and tied on a dropper. The fish was mine on the first drift. 

Black Mouth.

The Brookie In All His Glory.

After Swallowing My Pride, The Dropper Scored.

Further upstream, lies a meadow with some of the wariest trout I have ever fished for. They spook easily and disappear under grass-lined undercut banks on both sides of the thin corridor. I rarely even have a chance to see them before I spook them. Up to this point I had never caught one of these fish out of the meadow. I decided to give them another shot. I kept the club sandwich on, but lost the dropper. I false casted away from the water over the tall grass and arched a long one way upstream. The 12 foot leader unrolled and the club landed with a plop along a deep undercut. The brown exploded on the sandwich and I had to stand on my tip toes to get my 7ft rod over the grass and lead him down the 4ft wide section of stream to my feet. It was one of the prettiest browns I had seen in a long time.

The Meadow.

Meadow Brown, Really Red Spots.

The Undercut.

Golden Ghosts.

This River Is Wild has been doing a lot of carping this summer and carping isn't exactly easy. We were lucky  enough to catch a lot of bones and when we could, we tried to document with our digital cameras. I put together the following short that brings a lot of our posts alive in video with a kick ass song to boot. I hope all those carp addicts out there enjoy it. Let me know what you think. We have come a long way since the original golden bones video that you might have seen floating around the internet. This blows it out of the water. 

Golden Ghosts.

This River Is Wild has been doing a lot of carping this summer and carping isn't exactly easy. We were lucky  enough to catch a lot of bones and when we could, we tried to document with our digital cameras. I put together the following short that brings a lot of our posts alive in video with a kick ass song to boot. I hope all those carp addicts out there enjoy it. Let me know what you think. We have come a long way since the original golden bones video that you might have seen floating around the internet. This blows it out of the water. 

The Glory Hole.

Every stream or river always seems to have a spot on it that far exceeds the potential of the rest of the waterway. Compared to it's peers it is always much larger, deeper, and significantly more attractive. It usually appears out of nowhere as you wade around a bend, or climb up a small waterfall. One look from a far and you know it holds a ton a fish and the chance at providing a monster. With these increased expectations on the glory hole, you inevitably set yourself up for a major letdown. Which is more often than not, the case. But, just the thought that something quite large (for the waterway) dwells deep in that pool draws you in, causes you to change flies, and approach it with care. 

The Environment.

Superfine Moss.

Food Source.

This particular glory hole, like most, appeared out of thin air. I stopped at a stream on a long drive home from fly fishing my usual haunts at a spot that for some reason, lacked private property signs. I parked the truck along a hairpin turn and proceeded to walk a two hundred yard stretch of small stream water, which is one of my favorite types of water to fish. After the first hundred yards, I was not disappointed. It was a beautiful, shallow brook no more than ten feet wide. Evergreens lined its slate banks on the left while downed timber and boulders covered in thick moss lined the right. I caught several native browns in some really skinny water and spooked plenty more from a far. All was well, when ascending a staircase pool around a tight bend, the glory appeared. 

The Quarry.

Underwater Brown.

Blurry Brown.

Stimulator Brown.

The glory hole was at the base of a large slate wall looming over the calm deep water. It was a nice flat glide fed by a small riffle. It averaged close to three ft. deep and all along its left side there was a slate overhang perfect for a large native to hide out in during the day. From a distance, I spotted two natives in the tail end of the pool easily contrasted against the light slate bottom. I watched for a little before making my approach. I had a decision to make. Wait for the glory hole hoss to make its appearance or try and tag a few smaller fish at the end of the pool. I chose the latter and on my first cast, a ten inch native exploded on my stimulator seemingly before it hit the water. The brief commotion ended rather quickly. I lost focus as I spotted a hoss appear from under the slate bank before taking flight upstream and disappearing for good. 

Spot The Two Trout?

The reward for my impatience was zero fish out of the glory hole. A few seconds of disturbance put several nice fish down for good. As I walked by the hole, they had all disappeared. Safely hiding under their slate hideout. The hoss easily ran 14-16 inches in length. Quite a trophy for such skinny water. Next time, I will have to wait for an opening before wetting my line with the hope that the glory hole hoss will like to play. 

The Glory Hole.

The Glory Hole.

Every stream or river always seems to have a spot on it that far exceeds the potential of the rest of the waterway. Compared to it's peers it is always much larger, deeper, and significantly more attractive. It usually appears out of nowhere as you wade around a bend, or climb up a small waterfall. One look from a far and you know it holds a ton a fish and the chance at providing a monster. With these increased expectations on the glory hole, you inevitably set yourself up for a major letdown. Which is more often than not, the case. But, just the thought that something quite large (for the waterway) dwells deep in that pool draws you in, causes you to change flies, and approach it with care. 

The Environment.

Superfine Moss.

Food Source.

This particular glory hole, like most, appeared out of thin air. I stopped at a stream on a long drive home from fly fishing my usual haunts at a spot that for some reason, lacked private property signs. I parked the truck along a hairpin turn and proceeded to walk a two hundred yard stretch of small stream water, which is one of my favorite types of water to fish. After the first hundred yards, I was not disappointed. It was a beautiful, shallow brook no more than ten feet wide. Evergreens lined its slate banks on the left while downed timber and boulders covered in thick moss lined the right. I caught several native browns in some really skinny water and spooked plenty more from a far. All was well, when ascending a staircase pool around a tight bend, the glory appeared. 

The Quarry.

Underwater Brown.

Blurry Brown.

Stimulator Brown.

The glory hole was at the base of a large slate wall looming over the calm deep water. It was a nice flat glide fed by a small riffle. It averaged close to three ft. deep and all along its left side there was a slate overhang perfect for a large native to hide out in during the day. From a distance, I spotted two natives in the tail end of the pool easily contrasted against the light slate bottom. I watched for a little before making my approach. I had a decision to make. Wait for the glory hole hoss to make its appearance or try and tag a few smaller fish at the end of the pool. I chose the latter and on my first cast, a ten inch native exploded on my stimulator seemingly before it hit the water. The brief commotion ended rather quickly. I lost focus as I spotted a hoss appear from under the slate bank before taking flight upstream and disappearing for good. 

Spot The Two Trout?

The reward for my impatience was zero fish out of the glory hole. A few seconds of disturbance put several nice fish down for good. As I walked by the hole, they had all disappeared. Safely hiding under their slate hideout. The hoss easily ran 14-16 inches in length. Quite a trophy for such skinny water. Next time, I will have to wait for an opening before wetting my line with the hope that the glory hole hoss will like to play. 

The Glory Hole.