My favorite American trout river

     When you have only one day to spend for some hard core fly fishing in New Hampshire, there's nowhere I'd rather be than wading the rough & tumble Connecticut River winding through the very northern most woods of the state by the Canadian border near the town of Pittsburg.  So on my last day of my all-too-short summer vacation, my brother Marc & I loaded the truck and pointed it north through some of the Granite State's iconic towns North Conway, Gorham, Berlin, Errol and Colebrook.  With a light morning rain and air temps in the mid-50s, we pressed onward and by the time we hit the water it was 10 degrees warmer and the rain was gone.

     We rigged our rods with split shot, strike indicators and tiny nymphs -- size 16 or 18 Copper Johns, Princes or Pheasant Tails. The water flowed fast below the First Connecticut Lake dam, wading was challenging to say the least as we carefully selected where to cross, what pools and runs were reachable, etc... this was wild trout water fishing at its pinnacle. Not too many rivers offer the opportunity for a grand slam of coldwater fishes -- rainbows, brookies, browns and landlocked salmon, but the Connecticut is one of those rare gems.

     This was Marc and my 3rd year in a row up to Pittsburg, and in addition to spotting our fair share of moose in the woods and drinking the locals favorite Buckrub Brown Ale, we've improved our knowledge and understanding of the river -- and with that comes greater success.  This trip proved both exhilarating and frustrating as we caught more and bigger trout and salmon than ever before, yet we lost more bigger trout and salmon than in previous trips.  The Connecticut is a beast of a river.
The video is a compilation of the day's highlights.

    I knew the day could prove something special when I landed a salmon, rainbow and brookie on my 2nd, 4th and 7th casts. I like to start fishing by heading up as close to the dam as possible... it's fast, slick, mildly dangerous, but those riffles and runs have some solid trout and salmon holding on the edges and seams.

   I'm talking three different fish species in the same hole -- how awesome is that for fly fishing.

This was only the first hole.

Fish on.... now the hard part begins

After picking up several salmon and trout in the headwaters, we hit the trail and bushwhacked our way through the woods downstream to some waters we had never tried before. I've never fished in Canada and the deep woods of the north, but this was as close to heaven with the inspiring splendor of the wild river teaming with aggressive, hard-fighting trout and salmon, unspoiled woods with sloping ravines funneling the water,  and no one around except your brother, some moose and bear in the brush.


Check out some more pics below...


Grand Slam complete -- rainbow, brookie, salmon and a brownie

What a river -- March has fish on!

This brookie fell for a #18 Copper John.  It took several minutes to work him to a slower pool where I could finally get a net on him.

I can't wait to go after him again next year.

This brookie came to hand.

As did this nice salmon.











However the biggest fish of the day, and Marc would attest it was even bigger than his brookie, was the landlocked salmon I battled, and ultimately lost in the center of the river. It's worth a quick story.  I was fishing some fast, deep water about 50 yards upstream of Marc when a huge salmon took my fly.  It quickly skyrocketed out of the water, reminiscent of that scene in the movie Hunt for Red October where that sub did an emergency surface and blasted into the air.  The salmon was a monster and quite possibly my biggest fish ever -- pushing 5-6 pounds.  I yelled above the roar of the river for Marc to come lend a hand.  He positioned himself downstream of me and thus began the game of trying to steer and lead the fish to my brother.  As we had lost several nice fish during the day by being too aggressive, patience and teamwork seemed to be the best bet for success... and it almost was... As the fish was being led within inches of Marc and his awaiting net, the salmon must have seen my brother or the net and again blasted out of the water striking Marc square in the chest, then free & clear back into the rushing river.  It was an amazing battle right to the end.

Exhilarating - oh yeah.  Frustrating -- well you can't win them all. We wrapped up the day with some good laughs, tired legs and about 25 fish brought to hand and another 7-8 (mostly big ones) caught but not landed. An awesome day concluded with a couple of cold brews at the Buckrub Pizza Pub. Till next year.