I’m sure that at one time or another if you fish any river system you’ve seen rock formations that were built along the river or stream. These “stacks of rocks” are cairns, and the history of cairns date back to medieval times. In fact, google “cairns” and you’ll have many sites to choose from to learn about the history. In some instances these man-made rock formations are used to designate trailheads and directional markers. But in the fishing community cairns have another purpose, especially for Native Americans in the Arctic. Cairns are one of their visible, spiritual connections with Earth.
With the mound of rocks behnd this cairn my guess is it was going to be larger.
(Click on image for larger view.)
One of the first times I remember seeing a cairn was on a television fishing show. About six or seven years ago while watching a show about fishing in the Arctic I noticed elaborate stacks of rocks at the river’s edge, some of which were 4’ in height. During the show it was explained that the Native Americans build the cairns to honor the fishing gods so their catches can be bountiful. I didn’t think anymore of it until I started fly fishing, and walking the rivers in Northeast Ohio. I began to see cairns, albeit smaller in scale, at the river’s edge. It seems as though Northeast Ohio rivers are loaded with rocks ideal for stacking. What I haven’t seen is someone building them, so I don’t know if fishermen build them or someone out hiking. More than likely the cairns are built for fun, and not to honor the fishing gods. To me, if a fisherman is having a tough day, change what you are doing, but keep the line in the water. Taking time to build a cairn will not catch fish.
This cairn was found at the Cleveland Metroparks South Chagrin Reservation.
Three days later it was gone.
I’ve included pictures of some of the cairns that have been built in the last few months. Unfortunately they don’t last long. Either heavy rains will push the water levels higher, knocking them over or someone will give them a gentle nudge and topple them.
Look closely and you will see a small stack on the left side. Like a small arm.
This small cairn was found on the Gand River. Next to it is a wood pyramid.
Not a lot of energy went into this one.
In the middle of the Chagrin River at the South Chagrin Reservation is a large boulder.
Someone used the boulder as a base to build this one. Notice the red bricks.
Twice now. Same spot. Mid pool, about four feet from the submerged tree. Same popper. Success and failure. Success in that I manipulated the popper to the smallie’s liking. Pop, pop, pause. Big swirl, heavy tug. Set the hook. Failure in that the tippet broke, again. I know that old saying, ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” Now, it just got personal.
I found a spot that has the mother of all big, resident smallmouth bass. Most resident smallies in the northeast Ohio tribs probably average 8” - 10” in length. On occasion you can catch bigger ones. In fact, last year I netted a couple over 12”, and I was thrilled. The one that I have now hooked twice has to be over 15”. I caught a glimpse of it as it broke the surface to inhale the popper. Then, as Yogi would say, “déjà vu all over again”, the sickening feeling you get as the rod and line snap back after being under tension.
It has to be the same fish. I can’t believe there would be multiple smallies that big in that same spot. Trust me on this.
Now, I can add obsessed to superstitious and sentimental. At 3:00AM in the morning I'm awake formulating a game plan to get him. One size stronger tippet. Test the knots, test the knots. Sharpen the point of the hook. I am going to get that S.O.B.
It was not a total loss on the river. I did manage to net a couple of smallies. The one pictured below is not even average size but has some of the nicest markings I’ve seen. It was caught at first light and the vertical markings just jumped out. Who knows, I could obsessing over this fish in five or six years.
This smallie has great markings. Caught at first light on a golden retriever.
(Click on image for larger view.)
This one hit the popper a minute before the mother of all resident smallies showed up again.
The weather has been hot, and so has the fishing. Even with water conditions being low and clear, the smallies have been active. They’re not picky either. They are taking streamers and topwater with equal enthusiasm. Add the fact that the waders are put away for awhile, and it makes for a great day on the water. Wet wading in the summer makes up for all the times during steelhead season when you need four layers of clothing.
This smallmouth inhaled the Sneaky Pete. Look close and all you can see is one of the rubber legs sticking out of his mouth.
(Click on image for a larger view.)
I've been rigging two rods. One will have a baitfish imitation, usually a Golden Retriever. The other rod will have a topwater fly, and my go to topwater fly has been a black Sneaky Pete. I don’t feel a need to switch to something else. It’s working in both low water and deep pools. Why change? I’m amazed at how even small fish attack this popper. I’ve had rock bass and small, smallies inhale it. They must strain their mouths to get around the hook. I like it so much that I had to rescue it today.
Even a small rock bass wants that popper.
I was fishing a big slow pool, and had already picked up a couple smallies when the quiet water was interrupted with a splash. A smallie surfaced and attacked the popper. I set the hook and the line goes slack as a knot gave way. Looking at the water I noticed the Sneaky Pete surfaced. Thankfully, the water was barely moving. I was able to get downstream and using the net, grab the popper. After I grabbed the popper I realized that the Sneaky Pete was the very first fly I purchased when I took up fly fishing six years ago. Now I’m superstitious and sentimental.
Beautiful morning at Helen Hazen Wyman Park on the Grand River.
(Click on image for larger view.)
By mid-June the lake run smallmouth bass season is just about over. Oh, there may be a straggler or two in the northeast Ohio rivers, but for the most part they are back in Lake Erie. Now is the time of year that fishermen can have a section of the Grand, Chagrin, or Rocky rivers all to their own. The water is heating up, and so is the fishing for resident smallmouth bass, carp, rock bass, and bluegill/sunfish. Match the rod and line size to the fish you’re targeting and even a small fish can be fun to catch. And, the catching has been good.
I have had good success this year whether I’m throwing topwater or a small streamer. The resident smallies have been especially aggressive, hitting all colors of small baitfish imitations. Throw in a couple of nice topwater takes on a Sneaky Pete, and it makes for a fun morning.
Yesterday, on a stretch of the Grand River that only two months ago was elbow-to-elbow with steelhead fishermen, I had the river to myself. It ended up being one of my best days fishing these rivers. I probably had over 15 hookups, landing most of them. Even though most were small, I had a blast. Using a 4wt with light tippet is ideal for the resident smallies.
Smallmouth bass sem to be hitting just about any color streamer.
This one fell for a chartreuse woolly bugger.
The interesting part is the smallies liked any presentation. It didn’t matter if the fly was swung, stripped, or just hanging at the end of a drift. They were on it. The topwater action I had with the Sneaky Pete was when it was moving. They had no interest in a motionless slider.
Very typical size for a resident smallie. It's fun catching them on light tippet.
This is a great time to be on the water. If warm weather, solitude, and a chance to catch some fish is what you are looking for, get out there.
As an update to the previous post on the banana superstition, I’ve had three excellent outings since giving up bananas as a fishing snack, and I’m now a full blown superstitious fisherman.
I have to start by saying I never thought of myself as a superstitious person, but after the last two outings I may well be one now. My previous post about a first cast curse led me to investigate fishing superstitions. One of the superstitions I came across involved a banana. When I read that my eyes got wide and a voice in my head said “You’d catch more fish if you didn’t pack a banana”. Talk about a light bulb moment.
It appears as though many fishermen and guides believe a banana holds some mystical power that repels fish. In fact, many guides will not allow bananas on their boats. Well, I happen to like bananas, and would have one in the car to eat after a morning on the water. I guess that’s close enough for the mystical power to work. Now, I’ve never kept track of the times I did not remember to pack a banana and my fishing outcome for the day until yesterday, when I purposely left the snack at home. Some may call it coincidence but after the first cast curse, I’m not so sure it’s coincidental.
Yesterday, I made my way to a local river to hunt for some smallmouth bass. It’s a river I fish frequently, and have caught a few in the past. So, my expectation was to get into a couple of fish, but more importantly, just have a nice morning on the water. In terms of numbers, I ended up having my day ever. Six smallies were brought to the net, and another five were hooked and lost. The ones that were lost were small, and my hookset brought the fish out of the water, similar to when a small brook trout is caught and becomes airborne from the set. The line had too much slack to keep the hook firmly in the fish’s lip. I’d throw a topwater fly and fish would hit it. I also used a golden retriever, swinging it through a pool, and fish would hit it. All the while, there wasn’t a banana within miles of me. Coincidence or power of superstition?
Smallmouth have great hearts. This one put up a nice fight before hitting the net.
(Click on image for a larger view.)
Largest one of the day. Hit a topwater popper.
Conditions of the river and the weather were ideal. The water was low and clear, with a noticeable increase in its temperature from just last week, when I fished it last (getting skunked). Clouds and warm temperatures also helped. Logical people might say the results of the day were due to the conditions, and being in the right place at the right time. For me, I’ve always thought of myself as logical, but now I’m not so sure. I do know one thing for sure, no more bananas when I go fishing.
I, for one, think it is. It happened to me more than once. Catch a fish on the first cast and something goes wrong in the space/time continuum. Either no additional fish are caught or problems that don’t normally show up suddenly do. I became more convinced after a recent outing.
Lake run smallmouth season is still going on so I made my way to a local river. Early morning, it’s light but the sun wasn’t up yet. Tee shirt warm, just right for a few hours on the water. I made my way to the tail of a pool where smallies have been known to hang out. I like to work this pool the same way I work for steelhead, cast, step, repeat. At the end of my line was a chartreuse woolly bugger, and my first cast landed downstream. With a quick mend the streamer was swinging through the middle of the pool. Feeling a slight bump I lifted the rod and set the hook. First cast, fish on. So, was my day going to be epic or would that be it? I wish I could say it was epic but after all, this is about the first cast curse.
For the next three hours nothing but casting, casting, and more casting without the hint of a strike. Granted, that is not unusual. I’m sure everyone has had a session on the water where the fish just didn’t want to play. But, this is where the curse shows up. After changing streamers multiple times I finally put on a golden retriever and cast it near a downed tree. It started to swing when a smallie nailed it, and immediately went airborne. It makes a run and all of a sudden the line and leader went from tight to slack. Looking at the leader I noticed the double surgeon knot gave way. I’ve had tippet to fly knots fail but can’t remember the last time a double surgeon knot failed. That was it for the day. So, for me, on this day, the curse was real.
But I was curious, what do other fishermen feel about a first cast curse? So, I put the question to a couple of fishing forums I frequent to get other opinions. While the sampling is small, around 40 responses, it is interesting that a vast majority of replies believe in the curse. Here’s some of the responses.
“A lot of people throw out a dummy cast on that first one and reel it in fast before a fish gets it to avoid the jinx.” “Got me more than once.” “That’s why you should always take a banana fishing. It counteracts the first cast curse.” “Sounds like coincidence to me.” “In my boat we always want to miss the first bite or hit that we get."
"If somebody catches the first bite or hit, we are usually screwed for the rest of the day.” “I've had some pretty horrible days that began with a first cast fish." “I don’t believe there is such a thing. There’s a reason for everything, and it usually isn’t luck or hocus, pocus.” “The first fish curse is no myth, this is as real as it gets. Sometimes now, I will just pack it in rightafter it happens. Saves sooo much grief.” “It's so real that my first cast is always where I KNOW THERE AREN'T ANY FISH.. even if it means I make the first cast in the parking lot at Walmart.”
These are all interesting comments. All I can say is if you believe it is real, then it is. As for the banana, I leave that superstition for another post.
Family…Trout…Springtime. It’s turning into a nice tradition. For the past five years my wife and I have been fortunate to mix family and fly fishing with annual spring visits to the Shenandoah Valley. We spend a couple days with my wife’s sister and her husband. There’s nothing better than a day fishing some of the best trout streams in the valley with family, followed by a day or two getting caught up on our “busy” lives. Since this is a blog about fishing I’ll leave most of the family stuff for another time or place.
Any fishermen who makes plans for a trip well in advance knows that weather is the one key element that is out of their control. Plans made in December for a May fishing trip are subject to short term weather patterns. To overcome a weather issue we usually make two or three dates a week apart in case the streams are blown out. As the day of the trip approaches I’m continually looking at forecasts and radar as well as trading emails with Art, my brother-in-law, to determine if the streams will be fishable. This year tested all of us at some point.
Beginning in late April it rained in the Shenandoah Valley almost every day. From what I’ve learned, the trout streams seem to handle the rain well but the method of trying to fool the fish changes. Higher water will bring a stain to even the clearest streams, and streamer fishing may be the only option, as hatches may get interrupted. Sure enough it was raining the three days before our scheduled date. The last report I received was the streams will be fishable. So, we packed the car and drove from Cleveland to Harrisonburg, Virginia. Now, that is a big first step because there’s no turning back. It’s like saying “we’re fishing come hell or high water”. Driving into Pennsylvania it started raining, and didn’t stop until we got to the hotel. One last email exchange with my brother-in-law updated us on the weather. He said the forecast changed, and the low pressure was going to hang over the area, bringing more rain during the night. He and my sister-in-law were going to make the trip early the next morning from Williamsburg but the thought was we would have to be very lucky to fish.
Clouds hung around for most of the morning, but at least it was dry.
(Click on image for larger view.)
We met at Mossy Creek Fly Shop the next morning, and Brian Trow, our guide, and owner of the shop (along with his brother, Colby), checked the USGS site for the latest flow report. After reviewing the site it was decided that we would drive to the stream, get an up-close look and determine whether to fish it or not. Brian knows Smith Creek like no one else, having fished and guided there for a number of years. Smith is a classic limestoner, and handles higher flows well. Looking at the water Brian said it’s a go. We would fish a few holes to see how the action was. If it wasn’t producing we would make the trip to Mossy Creek. I’ve fished Smith about four times and each time the water was low and clear. This time it was up about a foot with a little stain, so, it was going to fish differently. It was going to be a streamer and nymph game. There were a few tricos in the air, and later some sulphurs showed up, but the topwater feed never materialized.
Smith Creek was elevated with a slight stain.
Brian's trying to get me to cast to the opposite bank and let the current swing the streamer through the pool.
With overcast skies to start, fishing on Smith was tough. I managed one strike in the first pool we tried but missed the hookup. Moving to another pool didn’t produce any fish. Finally, moving further downstream I managed to land about a 10” rainbow. We were all hoping the fish were turning on.
The skunk is off as a small rainbow came to hand.
Mid-morning turned into late morning when I swung a black crystal bugger off a ledge. Midstream, another rainbow hit the streamer, and after several swipes with the net, landed it. Two casts later, swinging the streamer through the pool, I felt the tug again. This time I knew it was a stronger, larger fish. The fish took several runs up and downstream before a nice, 17” rainbow came to hand. A couple more takes and misses closed out my morning session.
This 17" ranibow put up a good fight.
Art worked several pools, also swinging a streamer. He did manage to hook into a nice rainbow but it ended up being a long distance release. Overall, the stream wasn’t as good as we know it can be. When Smith is on, you can get into double digits very easily.
Over lunch we had a discussion about what the afternoon will look like. Brian received a call from one of his guides saying that Mossy Creek was in great shape despite the recent rains. So, we decided to drive to Mossy.
Mossy Creek is a true spring creek. Brown trout thrive there. The stream is maybe 15’ to 20’ in width. Like many spring creeks, the vegetation creates channels. So, the casts need to target the edges and clean water. The browns will lay along the edges and ambush any food that drifts by. Also, like many spring creeks, Mossy is very technical. Clear water necessitates stealth, with upstream casts a must. The first year I started fly fishing we fished Mossy and I was overwhelmed. Truthfully, my casting sucked and I got blanked. Now, five years later I was fishing it again, so it was going to be another test.
A beautiful stretch of Mossy Creek.
It was overcast with a little drizzle when we stated to fish Mossy, but it didn’t last long. The clouds parted, and it was full sunshine the rest of the afternoon. Not what we needed at this point. The fishing was slow. We were using size 18 and 20 nymphs under a PMX dry with no activity. I moved downstream, and Brian switched my flies out for a black crystal bugger. I began to dead drift it down a channel when a brown trout came out from the bank and nailed it. After a nice little fight I landed my first wild brown trout. That made my day.
My first wild brown.
There was very little action the rest of the afternoon. I think the trout were playing with us. I had one bump my strike indicator, and had a couple trout investigate my offering but none committed to it. Art was drifting a streamer behind a small boulder and a brown kept following it but it also never committed to it. That was it for the day.
Even this turtle had a tough day.
Overall, the fishing was tough but I learned a little more, and hopefully will be a better fisherman because of it. Can’t wait for a return visit.
Go out and fool a fish!
Here's a short video of the day on the water my wife put together. Enjoy.
