Black Flies and Trout Fishing

(as published in the Mountain Gazette, June 20, 2013, p. 10)

Like baseball and football, fly fishing has its own season. The forest browns turn into green. The days grow longer. Your senses know the trout will soon be rising for the fly. An annual May fishing trip only adds to this normal level of seasonal anticipation.

Snowmelt in May on the West Branch of the Ausable

Once again, my dad, brother, and cousin met at the end of May to fish the West Branch of the Ausable in Wilmington, NY. Unlike last year, the trout seemed better educated this year, while our casting should probably have repeated a grade. I shouldn’t include my cousin, Jim Boucher, in that statement. Jim is a good fly fisherman and has guided us to some nice fish the last couple of years.

Normally the West Branch of the Ausable runs about 700 cubic feet per second. When we hit the river on Friday morning, the river was running at over 2,000 cubic feet per second. That’s a lot of water, but not as much as earlier in the week when the river was running at almost 10,000 cubic feet per second. Why so much water? You’ll recall that with the big storm the end of May

that ruined so many local roads and driveways also dumped over 13 inches of snow on Mount Mansfield. Well the same storm dumped 3 feet of snow on Whiteface Mountain. The Ausable is right beneath Whiteface, hence the increased flow.

When I first stepped in the river, my first thought was that if my 10-year old nephew Jack had come…whoosh, there’d go Jack down the river. As it was, wading was tough. The water was a refreshing 54 degrees, but would heat up to a boiling 57 degrees by the end of the weekend.

Our compensation for the high, fast water was that the black flies were out in full force. When I go fly fishing I can usually outfit several people. I will bring extra waders, an extra rod, reel; you get the idea. You’d think I would have brought at least one mesh head net, but nope. Luckily, the black flies liked chewing on my brother Kirk much more than they liked me. Poor Kirk. It certainly adds flavor to the experience. (Jim said that the black flies didn’t bother him. A day later, with bite welts on both sides of his neck, Jim clarified. He reiterated that the flies did not bother him, but added that he never said they didn’t bite him.) Basically, Friday beat us up. No wonder that my dad and Kirk didn’t want to go out fishing again after dinner.

Jim and I were game to return to the river to fish at dusk. We stepped out of the truck after arriving at a likely spot…and the black flies attacked. At Jim’s suggestion, I tied on a “usual” fly. It’s called a usual because it usually works. As the flies feasted we fished. It’s funny, the flies don’t bother you as much when you catch some fish. 

Jim had put me in a good spot where we could see at least two trout rising. I managed to catch (and release) them both. The “usual” did not disappoint – and I probably would not have selected it without Jim’s suggestion.

So where’s the picture? I knew my dad and brother would not believe I caught anything, so the first thing I did upon bringing my first fish to net was to take a picture with my iPhone, which was in a zip-lock baggie. You can see the fish, but the photo won’t win any awards.

Sherdan and Jim trying to find less educated trout

Saturday started out with more of the same, biting black flies and no fish. Jim loves to fish, but he always tries to put us each in a good position to catch fish. I had my opportunity Friday night and that was it for me catching fish. Dad caught his fish Saturday morning.

Kirk almost hung it up after that morning. His waders were leaking and his feet were wet and cold. The black flies continued to torment him and he wasn’t getting as much as a strike. It is amazing how much better the world looks when you are well fed and back in dry clothes. Kirk’s second effort in the afternoon (in new, waterproof waders) got him his trout.

Kirk lands a nice rainbow trout

Once we had our fish, Jim went to work. He caught 5 or 6 nice rainbows. I believe they were trained fish who recognized him, recently released hatchery fish, or otherwise gullible, easy fish left over from last year. Jim certainly highlighted the fact that there were fish in the river, high water or not, and they could be caught.

  

While trout fishing comes each year to the North Country, no two seasons are the same. My dad and I told my brother, “You should have been here last year.” “You should be here next year” also applies. The only way to make sure you are on the river when the conditions are perfect is to make sure you are on the river consistently. This is true even when “consistently” means the one family trip each year. Happy days afield.

Send me your best game camera photos with some background information – general area the picture taken (unless it is a trophy animal), time of year, etc. I’ll include the best ones in to the Mountain Gazette over the next several issues.

Please visit www.sportingafield.blogspot.com for more news, musings, and interviews or to leave questions or comments.