Connecticut River in Pittsburg, NH

    One time I year I get to return to my home state of New Hampshire, meet up with my brother Marc, load up his truck, and head north... literally as far north in the Granite State one can travel without meeting our friends from Customs & Border Protection diligently standing watch at the Canadian border.
    Pittsburg, NH has become my new home as I've spent more time there than back in Dover where I grew up. Pittsburg is a throwback, step back in time kind of place where the number of moose outnumber the townsfolk.
    So with the hopes of leaping rainbows, battling brookies, feisty browns and silvery landlocked salmon, we were set on getting our fill of the very best northern New Hampshire trout fishing had to offer.

    We arrived on a late Friday afternoon, checked into the Buckrub Pub & Lodge, and hit the river for an hour to shake off a year's worth of rust.  In the winding dusk, I was able to stir up a couple of rainbows swinging streamers in a deep pool, giving promise of good fishing thereafter.
     After a pizza and a couple of Buck Rub Brown Ales, we hit the racks ready for the following day.  The Connecticut make no mistake is a no-nonsense, demanding, challenging and sometimes frustrating fishery.  We've set the bar after the past several years of saying six or more fish represents a good day.

One of many brilliant colored brook trout caught & released during the trip

    Historically,Marc and I have done best nymphing the pockets and rifles and runs throughout the river. Our most reliable flies have been princes, pheasant tails and copper johns in sizes 14-18.  However, given the success I had on my recent north Georgia venture just a few weeks prior swinging streamers, I was wired to spend my first hours casting down and across with my favorite Golden Retriever pattern in lieu of my double nymphs . split shot / indicator combination.  It proved the right decision for me as I had steady action all morning with both brookies and rainbows along with the odd brown or salmon hookset.

Some hefty rainbows came to hand on this trip

The weather was overcast with showers coming and going most of the morning and then periods of sunshine finally breaking through in the afternoon, which gave me cause to swtch to dries when working back upstream later in the day -- again a fortuitous game changer as I experienced continuous hookups in nearly every fishy looking spot using a #14 purple parachute adams -- a classic generic mayfly pattern. 

The brook trout were as colorful as ever in the river 

    Marc, meanwhile, stuck with the tried & true nymph rig and had fair success, landing about six, which met our threshold for a good day on the river.  I had a hot hand this day landing about 20 which in my book, ranked as an epic day on the river.

   Check out the video (need to improve both taping and editing skills)

    New Hampshire has had a late-start to its summer, hence the famed hex hatch that Marc and I have so well timed the past few years was only just beginning when we deviated from the river to a local pond to try our luck casting size #6 dries for slurping brook trout.  We were early, but as the fishing gods tend to have their way, this time Marc had the hot hand as he landed four nice brookies while I was skunked on night one.  Night two Marc again proved to have the magic touch landing four more again while brought three to hand.  We did have some company on the water -- not other fishermen, but a pair of healthy loons making the round, and undoubtedly enjoying as much if not more success fishing. 

    On day number two, we ventured over to one of our favorite brook trout streams that's tucked far away from the general population, and historically has produced days of 40-50+ trout brought to hand -- most on dry flies.  But Mother Nature had other plans this day as what started out with much promise early on soon turned for the worse as torrential thunderstorms turned this crystal clear gem of a stream into a whirling mess of chocolate milk in short order... not much to do but pack up and say "we'll get'em next time."

    Our last day on the Connecticut (we had to cut this trip shorter than prior years) we were hoping for the best. I hooked a huge rainbow on my second cast, started laying around with my video camera and deservedly lost him - when will I learn. The morning was a bit slow with only a handful of trout being picked up swinging streamers.
   

We fished new stretches of river with mixed success

      When we hit the Judge & Jury pools about noon, things started clicking. A mayfly hatch kicked up and I switched to a parachute adams and immediately had success in the Judge Pool. Marc switched to a golden retriever in the Jury Pool and began picking off trout with some regularity. Twice we had doubles on -- pretty cool stuff.  By days end Marc held the upper hand as he netted nearly 20 for the day while had 8-9.  Good days, no make that great days on the Connecticut.  We keep talking abut hitting below Murphy Dam as rumors are that's where the really big browns hang out... next time.
    Until then, tight lines.

Sweet Georgia Brown

This broad-shouldered Brown Trout fell for a Mickey Finn

For the past five years I've been asked to teach 200 of the best & brightest Florida and Georgia cadets at the Navy Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps Leadership Academy in Gainesville, Georgia.
I love teaching, working and mentoring some of the best kids you'd ever want to meet.
But...... Gainesville is only a stone's throw away from the mountains and streams of North Georgia so I usually carve out an afternoon to wet a line, wet my feet and hopefully catch a trout or two along the way.


I


 have fished a few different creeks and rivers over the years, and I try to explore some new water with each adventure. My target waterways this time were Dick's Creek and the Chattahoochee River.

The back eddy behind this rock in the center held a number of rainbows and browns

Whenever you fish new waters and have only a few hours to wet a line, you can't help but feeling a bit anxious.  Is this dead water, has it been fished out, am I wasting my time in this stretch of water? Fortunately I didn't have to wait too long for my answer.  After beginning with a dry-dropper rig which drew no attention, I switched over to the old reliable Golden Retriever and soon found success. In that one hole above, I landed half a dozen trout using the retriever, Mickey Finn, San Juan Worm, a couple of soft hackle wet flies from my dad's old fly box.  He gave me this box probably 20 years ago and I never used -- I seldom used wet flies and I really didn't think these would work.  They did, and it gave me pause to reflect about my dad, always a bright moment.

Add caption

Although likely he came courtesy of GA Fish & Game, a trout is a trout


A bumble bee wet fly from dad's box



The ever effective Golden Retriever fooled this Brown Trout

Rainbows were also willing partners in this same hole.

After working this one spot for a while, I ventured further downstream and found a fishy-looking run that looked promising.  I spotted a few trout in the lower far corner of the run and switched up to a parachute adams -- with no success. As the water was no much more than a foot deep, I opted for a small Mickey Finn in lieu of the Golden Retriever. Right call.

This run provided non-stop action for about an hour.  Swinging streamers and wets down and across drew strikes and acrobatic rainbows to the sky. I don't find honey holes like this very often, so I treasured the time spent here. I landed upwards of a dozen rainbows in rapid succession.

Wanting to explore more waters, I ventured to the Chattahoochee, which is actually one of Georgia's longest rivers. In the headwaters of the Wildlife Management Area, the stream averaged about 50 feet wide with water depths of 2-5 feet.  Lots of water looked promising.  I began with swinging streamers and landed a couple browns and rainbows in the first couple of holes. 

While working a deep edge along the far bank, my Orvis 602 Superfine suddenly doubled over and line began to peel. After a few minutes, a nice 13" Brown came to hand.   

I capped off the fishing with an absolutely incredible meal with equally incredible Southern hospitality at the Riverbend Tavern and Grill in Cleveland, GA.  Give it a visit if you're ever nearby.

Until next time, tight lines.

Bonefish nirvana in the Bahamas

I'm a trout fisherman,
My dad started me on that trail 50 years ago when he'd sit me in his aluminum boat for 10 hours of trolling for lakers and salmon in Dan Hole Pond.
But I'm glad that over the years I've been blessed to fly fish some of the most spectacular areas around -- and let me tell you Great Exuma Bahamas ranks right up there among the best.
And once again, the bonefishing in the Bahamas did not disappoint.




Bonefish Stevie proved an excellent guide. His ability to spot fish, anticipate which flats would be most productive turned out to be spot on.

In prior bonefish trips, I had never seen more than a few "bonies" grouped together. However, this time as the fish were migrating out of the mangroves with the outgoing tide, I witnessed clusters of 50-100 fish streaming out in the narrow channels toward open water. The key was anticipating their speed and direction and placing my fly in that byway, starting the strip retrieve as that lead fish drew near.  The strikes were always violent and aggressive.  And when working close to the mangroves line management was paramount in order to prevent getting wrapped around and broken off.

These powerful sportfish have the force of a locomotive

Next year can't come soon enough to get another crack at these incredible sport fish.

Davis Fish Camp

Jack and Matt swing streamers at the Wers Hole in Club Waters on the Tobyhanna

I'd been looking forward to a return trip to little-blue-trout streams of Potter County for a year.   Its a first week of June trip, but when I checked-in Jack Davis who's been fishing these waters for 50+ years reported the water was running too high for good fishing so we changed our plans and set our sights on the Northern Poconos and the Davis family fish camp.

small stream trout on a hidden gem stream

The 'Camp' is nestled on the side of a hill which slopes down to the Lehigh River about 300 yards away.   It's just south of the Town of White Haven.   I'd heard Bryan talk about the Camp and fishing in their club waters for years so I was thrilled to be invited along.  We'd all arrived Sunday afternoon and decided to head out to scout some waters. 

Bryan upstream in the Delayed Harvest Section of the Tobyhanna

Jack and Bryan recounted old stories and let me in on a few secret spots and access points.  We ended the eve sitting on a picnic table at their private club water watching trout rise to an evening hatch on the Tobyhanna.  Day 2 the first fishing day, with waters high but falling we decided to hit a small stream in one of the neighboring state parks.   If you want to get their you'll have to tag along with us next time as Jack asked me not to name it.

 Its a small stream, Rapidan sized, meandering through a valley.    Jack and Bryan fished down stream swinging streamers with wetflys and dropped above the streamer fromt he main line on light long rods.    I fished upstream with my usual dry dropper combo after I noted one trout slurp a fly during our walk-in. 

I didn't count trout but we all caught enough to augment the beautiful warm day.  We ended day one fishing the delayed Harvest section of the Upper Tobyhanna.    Jack scouted and Bryan and I followed in his trace looking for rising trout.    We found a few and made the night worthwhile.   




As a cautionary tail, as frequently happens, the rise was the best as the dark settled into the valley and we nearly had a adventure getting out! We were all looking forward to day 2 which we'd decided to spend on Blakeslee Club waters on the Tobyhanna. We had the club waters to ourselves early and started swinging flies into the tannin-brown waters.   The holding water and feeding seams were old friends to Jack and Bryan and I became more knowledgeable reading the water.

After picking up a few smallies on a golden retriever I switched to a green bugger w tagged wetflies above it and bows and browns came to hand.   I was fishing a 9'3" 5wt Spring Creek from the Original Superfine series and it nearly doubled over, a shock-absorber against the fight of the trout.  During the morning Jack was fishing above me just before lunch and I helped/watched him land a handomse 19-20" brook trout. 

Jack -- fish-on -- the large brookie you see below!

 He thought it was probably breeder stocked into the river by the club upstream.   Wowsa what a fish, it'd grown so much the char in it was obvious.   After admiring it we slipped it back into the 66 degree water to make someone's day.   Lunch was an unexpected treat as we feasted on a local cheesesteak variant from Antonios in White Haven.   Antonios slathers a bit of marinara sauce in their sub for a delicious meld of streak, cheese and sauce...man it was good. 

Bryan on the Toby

Jack and Bryan took it a bit easy during the afternoon, eyes may have closed for a piece and I went exploring deeper into club waters with steady action for 12-14" bows and browns.   As evening approached we all got a bit excited as a few other club members joined us for the anticipated evening hatch.   The hatch wasn't heavy but a few march browns and sulphurs  were in the air and the trout began to rise to a few on the water and some spinners (I think) in the film. 

Size 12 march brown tied by Jack

We separated on the river hunting rises but were soon drawn together in the Weis Pool as that seemed to have the moist activity.   Trout came steadily to well drifted size 12 and 14 march brown dry flies.   I even caught several on a size 14 Mr. Rapidan Parachute which with its yellow parachute was visible later into the dwindling light.   What a treat to have those trout materialize from the depths and take your dry on the surface!    Thanks to Bryan and Jack for including me on their home club waters.

Cheetah pattern Brown

Mr Rapidan took his share

Big Brown from Bryan!

My last Brown of the night on a march Brown as darkness settled on the water