Here at Fishwest we are excited to be carrying Abel reels and other great Abel products! Check out our offerings by clicking HERE. More to follow soon!
Here at Fishwest we are excited to be carrying Abel reels and other great Abel products! Check out our offerings by clicking HERE. More to follow soon!
Inspired by the needs of the guides everywhere, the Swiftwater carries loads like no other vest. Neck fatigue and forward creep created by heavy fly box loads (often full of tungsten nymphs) is eliminated with a fully cushioned waist belt and shoulder straps. Mesh back and side-panels keep you cool during the summer months and hand-warmer pockets keep you toasty on chilly mornings.
Check out the New Umpqua Swiftwater Tech Vest: HERE
There’s nothing much more enjoyable than taking a break midday from fishing and smoking decent cigar. All the craziness of life fades into the background as the river continues it’s run downstream through the haze of cigar smoke.
Although there are several different options of transporting your sticks to and from the river, Sage really hit one out of the park with their Sage One Humidor. Here’s what I like about it
1. Protection – The aluminum tube keeps your cigars safe from danger so you can focus on your fly presentation. Also for those that wade a bit deeper, fear not. The screw on lid of the case is lined with a water tight gasket to keep the water out should you take an unsuspecting dip.
2. Plenty of room – The Sage One Humidor has a 2” diameter. Depending on your choice of cigar, you can carry multiple cigars on the water so you can share with a buddy or smoke like a chimney all day long.
3. Humidor – There’s nothing worse than the anticipation of a good cigar only to find a crispy, dry stick instead. The inside of the Sage humidor is lined with cedar and on the lid is a small little humidifier that you can add some distilled water too, so you’re cigars will be kept in that optimum environment.
Bottom line: The Sage One Humidor is an excellent option for the fly fisherman who enjoys a nice cigar on the water.
For more info on the Sage One Humidor please click Here.
Anglers today have a multitude of choices when it comes to choosing a fly line these days. They are bombarded with terms like AST or 3M Microballons just to name a few. What this means for anglers is that with every passing year manufacturers are pushing the limits in fly line design. They are constantly trying to improve fly line technologies so anglers have better odds at catching more fish. In a nutshell these aren’t your grandpa’s silk fly lines any more.
I have been fishing the Scientific Anglers Mastery Textured Trout Line for a little while now and I thought it would be a good time to share my thoughts on the line. I have to say that I was initially skeptical of the addition to the textured line family based on my previous experiences with the Sharkskin. Too many times did I find myself left with scoured hands from the aggressive texturing used in the Sharkskin family of lines.
Well SA must have got the memo because they have revamped the texture design on the Mastery Textured lines. The newer lines are dimpled like a golf ball instead of having a series of triangular ridges similar to that of a shark’s fin.
In my opinion the taper of this line puts it into the category of a more “all around” trout line. I have had the opportunity to fish this line on a Scott A4 905.4 as well as the Scott G2 884.4. Since the line has a longer, less aggressive front taper which is almost 30 feet in length it results in an extremely smooth casting fly line.
Now don’t think that this line is just for throwing dry flies to spooky rising fish by any means. Like I said this line is more of an “all around” trout line. I feel that this line excels with smaller flies ranging from 22-12 however it handles anything larger with relative ease. Paired with my A4 this line has seen many a nymph rig as well as a plethora of small streamers as well as larger dry dropper rigs. (It is no secret Utah area waters are full of terrestrial hungry trout in the summertime!)
All and all this line is worth checking out. In a nutshell this line has all the positive characteristics found within the SA Sharkskin lines. The best features of the line are superior shootability from the textured surface as well as a fly line with increased surface area which sits higher on the water which allows for an easier mend.
Honestly I feel that our friends over at Scientific Anglers hit a home run with the Mastery Textured Trout line but don’t take my word for it. I suggest you try it out for yourself. I have a feeling you will be impressed.
Get your hands on the Scientific Anglers Mastery Textured Trout by : Clicking Here
There are few things that really rattle me. I have found myself in a standoff against a Yellowstone Black Bear, been bumped by a shark, went headfirst into a sweeper on a raging river. Part and parcel of the sport I suppose. All those things happened so fast that I really had no time to be afraid…I just reacted. While all of those events made for interesting adventures, panic filled memories, and a good story or two, nothing…and I do mean nothing, creeped me out more than an occurrence in The Great Smoky Mountains a couple of weeks ago.
I am standing on the bank, little more than the toes of my boots in the water, roll casting flies into a seam that had trout stacked up in an amazing feeding line. They moved very little and I could see the yawn of their mouths, food was plentiful and it appeared that they were not being very particular as to what they would eat which was good for me.
I rolled out a tandem rig. Neversink Caddis and below it I had on a Green Weenie. Without a doubt, these two flies are the top producers for me. Tons of trout, flies you trust, no one in sight…yep, I was in the zone. The cast rolled out much better than usual and landed upstream from the aquatic congregation, just far enough for the GW to sink down into the feeding land. It was a slow motion display in front of me as I watched the fly twirl in the current; the slightest of movement from a willing rainbow, the take…fish on.
He wasn’t particularly large by most standards, maybe ten inches, which is a pretty good size for a mountain bow. I pulled him away quickly from his friends so that they would miss the fact that one of their kindred had been attacked by a bug puppet and was losing. I had him maybe ten feet from where I stood, when out of the corner of my eye I saw something move from underneath a rock just to the right of where I stood. Most of the rock was under water so I quickly determined that it was perhaps a brown trout that I had spooked away from its lie. Then the line went crazy. The trout began to struggle in a way that just didn’t seem right…then all I felt was the weight of the fish.
Confused, I reeled in the line, my rod tip dipping with each turn as it pulled against the weight of the fish. Finally the head of the trout came into view. Its eyes were stark white; the color you would associate with a wild rainbow had grown ashen. And, just above its tail, holding for all its worth was a snake; the one common creature in God’s vast zoo that absolutely freaks me out.
The snake was maybe three feet in length with a dark cream colored body with deep rust colored bands which is the coloration of our local low country viper…the copperhead. This snake had sunk its teeth deep into this trout and would not let go. The trouble was…I couldn’t let go either…until I cut the leader, which I did with a swiftness that would have impressed Zorro as I pulled my knife from its sheath and with one pass cut through the mono. It should also be noted that I did not cut until I was absolutely certain that the distance of my hand from the snake was safe.
Having rescued what remained of my leader, I expected to see my Neversink moving across the water to some remote location for this vile serpent to devour its/my catch. However, in a manner reserved for only slapstick anglers such as myself, I saw that my lovely Neversink was floating inches from my right foot…and two feet beyond that lay the snake and the trout. Perhaps in a moment of mutual clarity, both the snake and I decided that being exposed on the riverbank was not the best of ideas. I left for higher ground and he took his lunch elsewhere.
Before swiftly extricating myself from the scene, I managed two photos. Sadly these pictures turned out much like those of a Bigfoot sighting or perhaps the Zapruder film. Shaky and dark. I will leave it to the folks at Fishwest to determine if the evidence captured in a digital format are worthy of print.
It wasn’t until a couple of days later as I relayed the story to a friend that I learned the truth about the snake. A copperhead it was not. The fish met its demise at the mouth of a Northern Water Snake, which was no more comforting than being shot with hollow points instead of buckshot. A snake is a snake and though I was twice his size and outweighed him by a multitude of pounds, he was the clear winner in this one.
Much has been written – and deservedly so – about Yellowstone National Park and its fisheries. (Take a look at Marc’s articles elsewhere in this blog for some very interesting samples.) What about the Tetons just south of Yellowstone?
Since the Tetons don’t bother with foothills, the view from the road is incredible. Rugged peaks simply erupt from sage-covered flats. And all kinds of trails lead right into these eye-popping mountains. Naturally, what makes it a complete destination – at least for the typical Pisciphilia reader – is the nearby fishing.
It’s all about the cutthroats in this part of the world. Other trout seem to be merely incidental catches. No need for any size 20 Tricos. Large, attractor dries are the usual fly shop recommendation.
I’m no expert; in fact, I’ve merely sampled the rivers around Grand Teton National Park on a couple of different trips. Nevertheless, I hope my impressions might spike your curiosity and even help you plan out a possible trip…
The Snake River: This is the one you’ve probably heard about. It’s a big, wide river with a relentless, pushy current. Don’t even think about wading across! It parallels the Tetons and then runs south. Common wisdom dictates that a drift boat is the best way to fish it. Nevertheless, it is quite possible to walk along and pick at some very juicy-looking pockets along the bank. Better yet, if you find some braids, crossing a side channel or two will lead to enough water to keep you busy all afternoon. You can even feel a little bit smug, knowing you’ll cover those enticing seams more thoroughly than the guy who zipped by in the drift boat.
The Wilson bridge access, just outside the town of Jackson, leads to a path that runs up and down the river in both directions. Locals walk their dogs there and you might have to relinquish your spot to an exuberant black Lab. Despite that, the Tetons form an impressive backdrop and you can definitely find some nice braids. I have to admit that although the numbers were okay; my biggest fish from the area was perhaps eight inches. Maybe my technique wasn’t quite dialed in?
There are other places, like boat ramps and the Moose Bridge, to access the Snake River for wading. Further researching the resources at the end of this article will likely reveal even more. Although wading is thoroughly enjoyable, the Snake offers a lot of river and a lot of scenery. On my next visit I will seriously look into the guided drift boat option.
The Hoback River: The medium-sized Hoback River follows Highway 191 and pours into the Snake south of Jackson. There are many access points along the highway and the river has a little bit of everything – shallow riffles, rocky runs, pocket water, and deep glides. The good water is much more obvious than on the Snake. It is far more wader-friendly as well and you can cross some sections quite easily. Although the holding spots might be a fair hike apart, there are definitely 8 to 14 inch trout to be had.
The Gros Ventre River: This stream is a little smaller than the Hoback and just as easy to read. It seems to follow a well-defined pattern of riffles and runs. Crossing it to optimize your drift is possible in most areas.
Despite all this, my catch rate on the Gros Ventre was almost nil. Nevertheless, I know the fish are in there and I’ll be back. In the meantime, I’ll blame my lack of success on the bull moose that wandered into the stream and forced me to detour around a couple of prime runs.
Speaking of wildlife, the Gros Ventre River runs right by Gros Ventre campground on the road to Kelly. The river is easily reachable from the road and the sage flats in this region are like an American Serengeti. On more than one occasion, bison delayed traffic as they crossed the road.
Granite Creek is a small stream that is paralleled by a good gravel road as it tumbles toward the Hoback River. It alternates between pocket water in forested sections and a classic meadow stream in picturesque valleys. (Think Soda Butte Creek with far fewer fishermen).
The meadow sections were perhaps my favorite places to fish in the entire region. Although the water looked impossibly skinny from high up on the road, there were actually all kinds of places where the bottom slipped out of sight – undercut banks, around boulders, and just below riffles – where the bottom slipped out of sight. It seemed like most of these places held fish that were extremely adept at quickly spitting out a dry fly.
Granite Creek also had a couple of bonus features built into it. One was a spectacular waterfall near the end of the road – a great place to simply admire, or cool off by splashing around. And if you cooled off too much, there were some hot springs right at the end of the road.
Miscellaneous Notes: A standard 9 foot 5 weight worked great on all the above rivers except for Granite Creek, which was more suited to an 8 foot 4 weight. When large attractors like Chernobyl Ants and Turk’s Tarantulas did not get eaten, smaller patterns like Trudes, Humpies, Irresistibles, and Goddard Caddis filled the gap. Drifting the odd nymph or swinging the odd sculpin pattern also worked.
Book: Flyfisher’s Guide to Yellowstone National Park by Ken Retallic. (It includes a chapter on the Tetons!)
Fly Shops in Jackson, Wyoming: High Country Flies and also the Snake River Angler. (Be sure to check out their websites.)
Authors Note*** I am in no way a trained, licensed, or certified entertainment critic so if there is such a program that prepares or credentials individuals to review movies, I have no knowledge of it. But I do watch quite a few movies and most of the time, I tend to disagree with those reviews that find their way into print, so, there is the disclaimer.
We (my wife and I) had the opportunity to watch SOULFISH and SOULFISH 2 this weekend as a result of the combination of having to work and the weather being what is was made it a premier chance to stay inside and live vicariously through other peoples accomplishments.
You want to see fly fishing action of the world’s largest Salmonid in Mongolia? These movies have it. Dry fly action for steelhead, bucket mouths on fly rods, inshore action in both gin clear water and the stained backwaters of the marsh delta, fish with chompers that would frighten a dentist, huge bones within line of sight of populated vacation areas, these movies have them all.
Both SOULFISH and SOULFISH 2 provide incredible insight to fishing corners of the world that most people would never have the chance to see (or even able to find on a map) let alone fly fish. This is not the made up, fantasy land of professional actors, these are fly fishers doing what their passion is, fishing pure and simple. If you take in the sights during the movie, it can give the viewer a feeling of inner peace. If focus on the action is the impetus of watching it, it can instill a sense of envy. But instead, take the cues from those fortunate to be part of the videos expertise in the areas fished to provide an insight of their knowledge of the sport that must be paid for through years of fishing or hiring a professional guide(s).
On a note, SOULFISH 2 gives credence to the human spirit that obstacles are not life stoppers, but challenges, that if met head on, can increase the total fly fishing experience. Mike is a true model of resilience.
I give SOULFISH three dry flies; SOULFISH 2, three dries and a nymph.
One of my favorite new pieces of equipment is my Hydro Flask. I, like most outdoors people, get thirsty on my adventures. I always bring plenty of water with me the problem is that when I arrive back at my vehicle it is less than refreshing having sat in the sun all day. Hydro Flask has solved this problem with a whole line of products that will keep your beverages cold all day.
I know you might be saying, it’s just another water bottle, I did myself, but when I saw the Growler Sized Hydro Flask I thought I would give it a try. The results: amazing! I have come back to my vehicle after a day of fishing to find my Hydro Flask too hot on the outside to hold but when I take a drink, whatever the beverage, it is still ice cold! Now I have several at home, in the vehicle, even at work.
The other really cool thing is that the insulated walls are much thinner than any other insulated product I have ever come across so Hydro Flask is much less bulky and will accommodate much more liquid.
The pros are simple: Superior insulation for long term cooling, variety of sizes & colors, variety of tops to suit your preferences
The cons are much harder to find. I do find that I “need” more of the bigger sizes. Having cool beverages around I am much more inclined to drink so I run out when I use the smaller Hydro Flasks
On a scale of 1-5, I would definitely give all the Hydro Flask products I own an emphatic 5!
You don’t need to take only my word for it; I have yet to find a person who owns a Hydro Flask that has anything bad to say. Most are just happy to know at the end of the days there will be something cold waiting for them before the drive home.
To check out the rest of the Hydro Flask Line Click Here
Editors Note: To catch lake trout in the summer, you generally need very deep water and very heavy jigs – maybe even down riggers. But not necessarily..
Myself, Dad, and our friend Ben squeezed into what used to be a 10 seater Cessna. Today it was a 5 seater with a lot of gear and supplies. Even though there was no flight attendant, the food service promised to be superb; a big cooler sat in the middle of the plane – full of sandwiches, chips, cookies, soda pop, and maybe even the odd beer.
We were flying from Thompson, in northern Manitoba, to Keith Sharp’s Arctic Outposts in southern Nunavut. The word southern is a relative term because the Canadian territory of Nunavut stretches to the north pole. There were no trees at our destination, just Arctic tundra. And even though it was mid-August, the water would be frigid and the lake trout would be shallow. Did I mention that the lakers would also be ravenous? They only enjoy about 3 ice-free months each year.
I thought the cooler stuffed full of food would be the highlight of the flight but it turned out to be the caribou. Shortly after crossing the treeline, the pilot was scheduled to land at an old air strip at an abandoned fishing lodge. There was a fuel cache there; he needed to top up and maintain his emergency reserve.
However, a herd of caribou was lounging on the gravel air strip. “No problem,” said the pilot. He had obviously dealt with this before. “We’ll just give’em a bit of a buzz.” He lowered the plane to about one hundred feet and roared past. Lazily, the caribou ignored us.
With the next pass, I’m pretty sure I heard an antler the plane’s underbelly. The caribou bolted onto the tundra and the pilot landed. He filled up the plane and the rest of us cracked open a beer and toasted the caribou.
We also got our first look at the tundra. The bareness of the landscape actually shocked me. Pictures and video didn’t prepare me for the reality of all that nothingness. As far as the eye could see, there were no trees – not even shrubs. Nothing, except for the odd boulder – and that herd of lazy caribou – was higher than your ankle.
In another hour, we landed on a gravel air strip built by Keith Sharp, our outfitter for the trip. Again, there was nothing higher than your ankle all the way out to the horizon. The air strip serviced his main facility, Ferguson Lake Lodge. Although Ferguson Lake had top notch fishing, we transferred our gear over to a float plane destined for a much smaller outpost on the Kazan River near Yathkyed Lake
After twenty minutes in the air, the plane drifted into the dock at our home base for the next 6 days. It looked like a big, ugly plywood box but it held bunks, a fridge, and a propane stove. Most importantly, it was right on the Kazan River and there was a boat with an outboard parked at the dock.
The fishing for the next six days was amazing. The Kazan River at that particular place is more like a narrow lake. Our box – or cabin – sat right on a severely necked down portion, where the current quickened and swirled. A few miles downstream, there was a large set of rapids. We didn’t have a guide; there was absolutely no need. The rapids held fish, and so did the eddies and riffles beside the cabin. Both lake trout and arctic grayling…
Lake trout smashed streamers at the base of the rapids and in the deeper eddies beside the cabin. As long as it was at least 5 inches long, the lakers liked it. My favourite patterns were purple or grey Deceivers. I liked to think that purple imitated a grayling and grey imitated a sucker but the lakers were likely more starving than cerebral. A floating line was all that was needed.
Since three guys in a fishing boat can be a bit of a disaster, we generally just waded. And there was no bush to crash through alongside the river! The boat was mostly for transportation.
Regardless, we put on neoprene waders right after breakfast and didn’t take’em off until supper. There was a good reason for the lakers being so shallow, and a layer of neoprene felt good in the water and out. Forget about breathability! When it rained, out came the old-fashioned yellow rubber rain suits.
Wading along the shallow riffles beside the cabin, or beside glides and pockets within the rapids, was prime for Arctic grayling. They gobbled down any dry fly or nymph.
A few lakers terrorized these spots and several unfortunate grayling linked angler and trout in tugs-of-war. Sometimes the trout won; sometimes they didn’t.
The trout that lost these tugs-of-war were not good losers. They were definitely fired up; we learned pretty quick to have a big streamer handy so they could vent their frustration.
The sheer size of the lake trout made them fun to catch. Most were 6 to 10 pounds but a few heavyweights were closer to 20. All of them put a saltwater size bend in a beefy 10 weight and a few even exposed the backing. They were thugs that smashed your fly and brawled among the boulders on the bottom. They definitely didn’t like skinny water; just before landing they invariably flew into a thrashing, twisting rage.
The grayling were just as fun to catch, but for different reasons. Although most topped out 14 to 18 inches, their big dorsal fin, purple hue, and aerial tendency made them consummate entertainers on the end of a 6 weight.
In many ways the tundra is fly fishing utopia; there are no backcast-hungry trees, for example. But the wind tends to howl with no respite from it. Truth be told, we sometimes used conventional gear to cut through the wind and reach juicy holding water far from the bank. Any thigh-high boulder became prime real estate during lunch breaks, and all three of us would try to tuck in behind it.
The wildlife was another reason to brave the wind. We saw cranes, geese, article fox, caribou – even a muskox and a grizzly. The caribou were pretty camera friendly but the muskox and grizzly looked way too grumpy to stalk with a camera.
If you’re looking for a technical, match-the-hatch experience, the tundra might not be your place. But the fun factor is huge and so is the adventure quotient. It’s the kind of place that makes you think you’re first person to walk on it. I think it should be on everyone’s bucket list.
Note: This article is based on a trip to the Yathkyed Lake camp of Keith Sharpe’s Arctic Outposts. However, in the accompanying photos, there are shots from different trips to Keith’s Kaminuriak South and Corbett Inlet camps. Unfortunately, Keith is no longer in the fishing trip business but a quick search of the web yielded one lodge which would likely offer a similar experience: Tukto Lodge (www.arcticfishing.com). There are also outfitters who offer guided wilderness canoe trips down the Kazan River. One of these is Wanapitei Canoe (www.wanapiteicanoe.com/trips.asp?ID=19).
Over the past two years, it’s been fun to see the increasing interest in fly fishing the spring creeks of the Driftless region of the Midwest. Those of us who live here and regularly fish this area have known of its natural beauty and incredible angling for years, but as the allure of small stream fishing has taken off around the country, media has helped uncover this rich fishery in the agricultural Midwest.
The Driftless region is an area of land that encompasses Southeast Minnesota, Northeast Iowa, Southwest Wisconsin, and Northwest Illinois. It’s named for an area of land that millions of years ago, avoided a glacial drift, flattening the surrounding landscapes into fertile cropland that is stereotypically thought of when you think of the area. The result is a pocket of land that geologists refer to as karst topography- land that is characterized by sinkholes, towering limestone bluffs, ridges, deep valleys, caves, and coldwater springs. The region is a stark contrast to the area that surrounds it, the landscape changing abruptly as one travels into the area from the flat farmland to the rolling hills then deep bluffs as you near the Mississippi River valley. Historically a farming region, the area has given way to a host of “locally-grown” tourism options, recreational opportunities, cultural and art events, organic farms, wineries and microbreweries, and unique businesses. The cold water springs, numbering easily in the thousands throughout the region, feed streams that maintain temperatures in the low 50s, supporting a healthy environment for trout, making it a year-round destination trip for those who love fishing spring creeks.
Throughout most of the Driftless region, 3 major species (brook, brown, and rainbow) of trout are to be found. Iowa has over 50 streams in the Driftless region that sustain trout and many other “put and grow” streams where stream-raised fish grow and mature. This makes for a variety of fishing options dependent on location, physical ability, and skill level. Many of these streams rely on a stocking program with the hard work of the DNR, with an increasing number of them sustaining wild populations of trout. Groups like Trout Unlimited and other conservation organizations work to increase public awareness of these fisheries, help with project workdays, and promote conservation education. The result is world-class fishing in our own backyard. It’s been said that skill-wise, if you can effectively fish spring creeks, you can effectively trout fish anywhere using techniques that allow the angler to break-down water, cast to difficult areas, and get a fly to where a fish is feeding on the surface or below.
Fishing spring creeks during spring in Iowa means some interesting water conditions and new opportunities. Like waters in other places, snow melt, run-off, and rains mean varying water levels and clarity. This can be a challenge sometimes, but carrying streamers, bwo patterns, hendricksons, adams, and some attractor nymphs is almost always the answer. Streamer fishing almost anytime the water is off-color can bring up big fish, and the flashes of yellow or silver through the cloudy water is nothing short of exciting. Easier walking and wading without the lush grasses that make casting and negotiating streams in the summer a little more difficult makes up for the uncertainty of weather in the spring.
Summer and fall are one the best times of the year to fish due to a variety of different hatches and bugs on the water. Caddis are a staple of trout diet here throughout the summer, but as the season rolls along, terrestrials like beetles, ants, crickets, and hoppers offer some of the most exciting fishing of the year. These are sometimes simple patterns but offered in the right environment and time can mean explosive takes and beautiful fish. A personal favorite is a foam cricket pattern skittered across pocket water on some of our wooded streams. A dark seam of water comes alive when a brown trout keys in on a well-drifted terrestrial. Even mouse patterns, a fly that swept the fly fishing world after the epic fly fishing film Eastern Rises was released, fished at dusk in late summer can produce some hungry brown trout. Be warned: big fish on quiet water in near darkness is not for the faint of heart when a fish decides to eat.
Because the streams remain a constant temperature and flow, fly fishing the Driftless (in states that permit it) is possible and fruitful through the winter. Granted, telling folks that you are going fishing on an 18 degree day with windchill takes some explaining and maybe some convincing. However, fishing the streams in the winter has been some of our most productive time on the water, with brilliantly colored, eager to eat fish. During this time, nymph fishing is the way to go, with small midge nymphs and attractor patterns. When the sun pops out and temperatures warm to the 20s and 30s, some risers can be taken on small dry patterns with accurate casts and light leaders. Even on a bad day, and we’ve all had them, winter fishing with the cold and breaking ice out of the guides if for nothing else makes you appreciate the warmer weather that is inevitably ahead.
What makes fishing these places in the Driftless special isn’t always the fishing, but the scenery and sometimes journey to get there. The local charm of out-of-the-way restaurants, casting beneath towering bluffs, watching the fog roll off a cool stream or through a valley during a humid day in summer, or fishing under the watchful eye of a Holstein cow adds to the experience as much as catching fish