New Hampshire Summer Slam - Brookies, Browns, Bows and Salmon

     When the number of moose per square mile outnumber the people per square mile, you know there must be terrific fishing nearby.  Such was the case in early July when after holding a memorial for our dad on Duncan Lake, my brother Marc and I headed north to Coos County for what is fast becoming our annual pilgrimage to New Hampshire's northern wilderness.  The drive up through North Conway, Berlin, Errol and Colebrook was met with unrelenting, driving rain and we figured the rivers would be running fast and high early on (they were).  But hey -- we're here, let's go fishing!

We fished the trophy section of the Connecticut and reports were that the water had been pounded like those sides of beef in the freezer from the original Rocky movie.  Eight cars up by the dam, a few along the road -- I'm guessing those fish have been seeing flies thrown their way all day, every day during the week surrounding the 4th. Low and behold, Marc had fish on first cast!  The hot start didn't last as the fish were few and far between.  Nevertheless, it felt awesome to be back in the cold, clear, moving water of the Connecticut.

Here's some video from the Connecticut.

With several other options besides the Connecticut to fish, we struck out for the Mohawk River, which runs from the Balsams to Colebrook along Route 26.  A couple of years ago, we dropped in that river to check it out and found a brook trout dry fly bonanza.  But as we hit the river this day, it was kicking high and hard - a far cry from two years ago.  We tried dries and droppers, and Marc picked one up but that was it.  After working upstream we debated packing out and trying somewhere else as it just didn't seem fishable (in fact the previous day's rains caused tremendous flooding on the Pemi by Plymouth State).  I told Marc let me changeout and try a streamer for a few casts.  Golden Retriever plus two split shot -- down and across cast -- boom!  Fish on.  A gorgeous 7 inch wild brookie brought to hand.  Another cast -- another fish, and another, and another.  We cracked the code on the Mohawk.  Casting 6-foot, 2-wt fly rods made for some incredible action as Marc and I took turns working runs downstream,

Fish on.

The last time we fished this river the water was shin deep with a gentle flow.  Not today. 

Here's some video from the Mohawk.

Having found success on the Mohawk, we packed up and headed out to find some more trout waters. We headed for another stream that had proven successful in past year -- sorry, but can't name this guy.  With only 24 hours since the heavy rains, the stream was swollen and running much higher and faster than before.  We again tried dry / dropper combinations, and though Marc caught a couple, I wasted no time in switching to streamers.

I'm not sure what it is about Golden Retrievers, but it's a proven fly for trout in the Northeast, Mid-Atlantic, Midwest, and I suppose I'll try it next time I head out West. Fishing 2-weight rods again made for entertaining hookups with wild brook trout providing non-stop action.

Though none of the trout were measured in pounds, it's awfully tough to beat fishing remote streams for wild brookies in absolutely gorgeous country. 

For a small stream we found some deep holes.

Below is a video of the day's action.

Part of the experience in fly fishing trips to northern New Hampshire is the charm of the small towns.  Due to my delay in booking lodging, Pittsburg had no vacancies so we ended up staying in Canaan, Vermont -- just across the state line from Stewartstown at the Maurice Motel... a throwback motel akin to the days when our family used to drive to Florida for vacation in the 60s  The Buckrub Pub remains a favorite for a good meal and a Buckrub Brown Ale.  The Wilderness Restaurant in Colebrook proved a good stop for both breakfast and dinner, and the Colebrook House of Pizza was a good choice for late night pizza.  Across the street from the motel was the Timeout Tavern where we had the good fortune to sync our visit with a Saturday night live performance from the band Rock On.  Entertaining in all aspects -- the band must be a well known attraction in the north country as the place was jammed with folks from their 20s to 70s all cutting up on the dance floor. 

We lugged a canoe up on this trip in hopes of timing our trip with the famous, but short-lived "Hex hatch" on some of the ponds in Coos County.  We fished it 3 nights and about all I can say is "friggin' unbelievable!"  Picture a glassy trout pond just before sunset.  A few flies begin popping off the surface, then a few more, then a few more, and then brook trout begin busting the surface in all directions.  Some gracefully slurp in the flies while others mimic Great White Sharks launching for seals.  Rigged with Size 4 dry flies -- these mayflies are huge and resemble mini-sailboats when sitting on the water -- we anchored and cast to the rises for the 30-40 minutes before total darkness took over.  But during that window -- wow.  Violent takes, rod-bending runs and head shakes was the norm.  Drying the fly in between fish proved the most challenging obstacle to hooking more fish, but each night we elevated our game slightly and more fish were brought to hand -- 10 the last night.  Darkness prevented more pics and videos but we each landed several in the 14-16 inch range.

Here was one.  I'll need to figure how to photo and video document this event better in the future. But if you have not fished a Hex hatch -- you definitely need to add it to your bucket list.

After a couple of days we ventured back to our nameless stream to fish a different section.  Upon arrival, the water had receded tremendously and the high, fast water was but a distant memory.  Instead, a more gentle lower, slower flow greeted us and we straightaway loaded up a dry / dropper rig for our trek upstream.  We found multiple sets of moose, bear and deer tracks along the stream the further upstream we ventured.  As for the fishing -- it was one of those lights out days.  Brookies rose consistently to our offerings of Elk Hair Caddis or Parachute Adams dries.  We eventually removed the droppers and fished dries exclusively upstream.

Classic freestone water.

Where you thought there should be a trout... there was one (or two, or sometimes three or four).

Each bend in the river revealed more gorgeous water.

When we fished as far as were going upstream, we changed our approach for the downstream trip switching to streamers.  Of course the Golden Retriever proved deadly, but solid hookups came from Mickey Fin (our dad's favorite fly) and Royal Coachmens. 

Note the water difference 48 hours after the heavy rains  A totally different stream.

Here's some video of the day.

Our last day of fishing was a guided drift boat trip on the Connecticut -- something we've both always wanted to dry.  Our guide, Ken from Osprey Fly Fishing Outfitters proved an awesome choice as he was knowledgeable, friendly, patient, his boat was comfortable and his wife made great lunches.  We drifted from just north of Colebrook about 12 miles downstream to our put out.   The first takeaway from drift boat fishing is the guy in the front has a huge advantage.  I started in the front, and proceeded to catch several browns and brookies early on.  We fished size 16-18 emergers.  I expected us to be swinging streamers to the banks all day, but that was never the case.  We fished seams and runs throughout the day until... hatches started and trout began busting the surface.  March was in the front when the late afternoon / early evening hatch kicked into high gear and he surgically began picking off individual rising trout with perfect drifts right in the feeding lanes.  This was really amazing.  Over the last few hours the bite turned on and we had a blact catching trout on dries.  Though no tape busters were brought in, solid and fat 11-12 inchers were taken with regularity.  Marc caught upwards of 30 and I probably had half that over the course of the day.  I'm glad we did it, and I would recommend Ken to anyone considering a similar experience.

Local knowledge of the river was a must... and Ken had it.

Here's some video of the day.

Northern New Hampshire once again did not disappoint as another memorable fishing adventure was embraced once again.  Dad, this trip is dedicated you for giving your two sons the same passion you had for chasing trout across the Granite State.

Until next time, tight lines.