panache

Giving the bass a Mustache Ride, boy was that fun! So far Peacock Black has been the hot color, picking up countless numbers of smallmouth, largemouth, bluegills, pumpkinseeds, green sunfish, and their associated hybrids. Hell even the small pike and muskie love it, as they nabbed a few of my flies from the confines of their elodea camouflaged hideouts.



Even picked up a scratch whitey the other day, a surprise to me, since most of them have since headed to the deep confines of a coolwater basin now that stream temps on the Otter Tail have risen to about 27°C. One first I observed the other day, a large Plecoptera species. I've seen small winter stones on this reach before in later March/early April, but never a large stonefly in July. This thing was in the size range of a Pteronarcyid (salmonfly) as it was around three to four centimeters long, but lacked the orange coloration around the thorax of a salmonfly. I'm a bit perplexed as to the ID, as the insect flew off before I could photograph it, but yet intrigued as this could be the reason why my larger prince nymph, Fresh Pimp nymph, and Thunderbird patterns have always fished so well here.


By the way, the rivers are still way blown here. I've resorted to fishing the upper reaches of the Otter Tail, which I typically abandon in late spring once the water temps begin to rise. Fortunately, the high flows have kept some spring spawning fish in a few deep holes through this summer yet. So maybe there is still hope after all...

Cahills of the Fluorescent Kind

Stenacron interpunctatum, better known among angling circles as a light cahill. I love the way that the local population around here emerge with almost fluoroescent yellow or chartreuse hues. You can really notice it when isolating a few color values as highlighted in a post from last summer, Exposed.

In the Drink

Finally had a day near 60 degrees and free of rain or snow. A rarity for this spring. Grabbed the kids and headed down to a small spring creek. It was a great day for a hike.




The boy had a great time down by the water exploring, investigating, and watching the stream flow. Must have gotten a little carried away as seconds after this photo was taken he went in for an unexpected dunk into the frigid waters of this coldwater stream. Poor little guy was scared, understandably so, but he handled himself well as he bobbed along in the current until he could get back up on his feet. What a champ.


Found a few Plecoptera flying around. Intolerant of water pollution stoneflies are an excellent indicator of good water quality. Always reassuring to know that a few streams within our watershed are still healthy.


Didn't spot any fish, though the runs we jaunted through were shallow and didn't provide much for cover. I have yet to find a brownie hiding within any reach of the stream. The last time I ventured furthuer upstream with rod in hand, I nearly broke my femurs several times traversing the interwoven crags of downed tamaracs and spruce logs covered over by grass. Not sure I'm up for another risky venture especially since threading a fly through those snaggy runs is about as difficult as escaping injury.

The water is still a bit cold, so vernal spawners like the white sucker likely aren't in the lower reaches of the river yet. In all due time....

golden nugget

The prairie sun has slowly been sinking across the sky, slung low in the horizon, almost lost amongst the tall grass and cottonwoods lining the river bank. This time of year, the sun's angle of incidence is so great that much of the solar energy is dissipated by the time it reaches' the earth's surface. In addition, the low angle of the sun off the horizon makes it extremely difficult to read the water and even tougher to spot fish. Reflection, refraction, it doesn't matter; when the sun is low, the water's surface is cursed with a glare that not even high performance optics can overcome. Unless fishing in gin clear water, this is nymph fishing time.


Equipped with my standard arsenal of flies, I grabbed a dozen of my favorites and tossed them into my day's worth box. I grabbed my rod and hit the bank of the river. Amazing that at this time of year, flows on the Otter Tail can be higher than they were this spring after spring runoff. Here comes the broken record again, but this is just plain ridonkulous. With flows topping 1700 cfs, simply put, the river is unwadeable. I perched up on the bank to try and spot any congregated schools of fish to no avail. Scattered.


With high water on the banks and water temps near 40°F fish were scarce. Carp were hiding in the flooded grass, smallmouth sought shelter within rocky confines, the only fish that were seemingly active were redhorse. I fished an orange Carp Crack that I had tied on a Korda hook and set to work dredging bottom. I hit bottom a few times and managed to get snagged on a submerged branch. As I pulled the woody debris to the surface, I spotted a few Rhyacophila sp. clinging its branches. I resumed nymphing and manage to foul hook a shorthead and a greater redhorse. I finally got my first take at the end of the drift; a nice golden.


After scrubbing bottom so many times, I had wondered if my hook was still sharp. The teflon coated finish had rubbed clean where the hook had penetrated so it was possible that the point had dulled a bit. Much to my chagrin, I answered my question a bit later when my fly line caught my shoe while preparing for a cast, driving the fly into my pinky, well past the barb. The hook point had lodged itself all the way to the hook bend with ease, like a hot knife through butter, resulting in possibly the deepest I have ever been hooked. The hook was so sharp that I didn't even feel any pain. Fortunately, I pulled out the deeply embedded hook with ease, as I always make it a point to crimp any barbs at the vise; not for the fish's benefit, but for mine. The bottom line is, those Korda hooks are the sharpest hooks I've ever seen or fished. Impressive.

Some redhorse fish porn to finish off the story:

Redhorse love the rise.

Exposed

Light cahill (orange phase), Stenacron interpunctatum.

emergence

A precipitous hatch of mayflies have taken over the Roughfisher Command Post as of late. A stretch of warm daytime temperatures coupled with low dewpoints have triggered a solid emergence of mayflies during the low light periods. As a result, we have been greeted each morning with a plethora of duns and spinners gracing the windows, screens, and siding of the command center. I took this as a great opportunity to break out the Canon and grab a few macros of these intriguing indicator species.

Maccaffertium vicarium (March Brown)




Callibaetis ferrugineus (Speckled Dun)

Speckled Dun

I finally spotted my first mayfly of the season at the Roughfisher Command Post. This male callibaetis imago had freshly emerged from his exuvia. Looks like it's time to start fishing some mayfly nymph patterns.

recon-ciliation

Even though I had a laundry list of chores planned for the day, I couldn't pass over a rare sunny afternoon in mid-November with temps rising into the low 40s. Priorities. I grabbed the little roughfisherette and headed outdoors. We hit the hills and headed down to a local coldwater stream. Frost still held tightly to the ground in shaded areas, seeking refuge from the weak Fall sun. The kid played with sticks and followed the roughfisher around like a shadow. I made the afternoon constructive and conducted some recon for next spring's sucker run.


I found a few good lies where fish will hold during their spawning run and a ton of snags that would break me off in a heartbeart if ever I hooked up with a fish in there. Line control and playing a fish fast will be key. I discovered a bunch of cases from the Limnephilidae Family, or northern caddis flies. I haven't noticed this particular style of case, mainly consisting of cut leaves and woody debris, in many of the area streams I fish. I typically encounter the tubular or rock/pebble style of caddis case. After doing a little reading, it looks like these species of caddis like to hang in swampy areas, likely why I haven't observed these nymphs in the faster reaches of water I usually fish.

Looks like another item to add to the winter tying list.