Nancy and I are moving west—to the Portland, OR, area to be closer to Jason, and Kelley, and Brooke. We need to get more family time and fishing time together. Amidst all the sorting, packing, tossing, trips to GoodWill, and all the other assorted agonies of moving, John Beth sent me this photo of an 18 inch rainbow that he caught on the last day of the inland trout season. It came from a spring creek in SW Wisconsin, but looks like an Alaskan Leopard Rainbow. To top it off, John used a cane rod, silk line, and 100-year old reel. Ah, but he didn’t use a gut leader—we will forgive you John.

What a way to end the season.

Marc Williamson and I fished Montana’s Bighorn yesterday (9/9/15). There was a Trico hatch and spinner fall that was incredible. Biggest I’ve ever seen. The duns were on the water from daylight to about 8:30 am. They also hatch at night, so we were probably on the tail end of the emergence. Marc and I floated and fished during the emergence and took some nice fish. After the hatch, we set up on a long shallow riffle that dumped into one of the Bighorn’s many long, deep pools. The air was alive with the spinners, literally millions of them; size 22. When they started to come down in serious numbers, we started to spot feeding fish. I took 5 trout on a size 22 Trico: 2 of them 17,” 1 was 18,” and 2 more 19”; Marc had his share, too. They were in very shallow riffle water at the edge (The Secret River); I would clearly see each fish when it rose and spotted a couple in the water, even though it was riffly. One fish was only 6 feet from shore in water not over 6 inches deep. I fished straight up to it, delivering the fly on a curve cast. It was great fun to watch the entire process of the fly drifting down, and the fish’s confident take. Of course seeing a size 22 Trico spinner in riffle water is really impossible, so I used a size 16, Elk Hair Caddis as a marker fly, hanging the Trico off the bend of the Caddis. It worked very well.

Yes, all those white dots are Tricos’ The sky was alive with them.

And when they fell, the water was blanketed with them.

Why would trout eat such tiny insects? Because there are so many of them. But they have to rise many times, giving the angler many opportunities for a hook up.

The St. Mary’s river—a very big river by the way—drains Lake Superior into Lake Huron. It’s also a very good place to catch Atlantic salmon. Perhaps we should call them Landlocks, because they never get to the salt, but they certainly do get into a rather large body of water, and they can get big. Anyway, they head into the St. Mary’s River in mid to late summer, and can be taken by the fly fisher using either single-hand rods or double-hand rods. The massive river certainly does not limit the casting style or gear.

My friend, blues player Keith Scott, had an opportunity to fish the St. Mary’s very recently and took his first Atlantic salmon with a fly rod. If you want to do what Keith did, now is the time to do it. There are plenty of guide services available (just google Atlantic Salmon in St. Mary’s River), and plenty of comfortable quarters in which to stay, both on the Michigan side and on the Ontario side.

OK, Keith, that’s number one. Now it’s time to get serious.

I recently received a photo from one of Jason’s friends, Kurt Lach. He went to school with Jason, raced bicycles with him, and eventually became a fly fishing addict. It’s a great photo of a lovely summer brown, taken from a small stream in western Wisconsin on 6X. Summer fish hold a special place in my heart. They have beaten the odds of the early season, and have become especially attuned to lower, clearer waters, tiny mayflies, feeding early and late, and the every presence of heron, mink, and other predators. They required well-honed angling skills, and a deep concentration of being the best Angler as Predator that one can be.

Kurt’s lovely summer brown in perfect condition.

Finding a nice fish in the middle of Wisconsin’s dry, hot summer is never easy, but my friend, John Beth, always manages to do just that. A few days ago, he visited a couple of spring creeks in the SW corner of Wisconsin. The weeds were high on the banks, and the water was low and gin clear, and choked with weeds.

The day dawned foggy, but that quickly disappeared, leaving a hot, dry day. By 3 pm, John had only taken one nice rainbow on a small beetle. Then he found a long deep pool with grass overhanging the banks. The tips arched out and brushed the water surface out at least a foot and a half from shore. It looked good, but nothing showed. John thought he heard the slight plop of a rise; then a slow set of ripples rolled out from under the overhanging grass. He watched for several more minutes before he saw the rise, back behind the tips of the overhanging grasses.

John headed downstream, not to get a better casting angle, but to practice the right cast. After a bit of fussing, he was able to skip a hopper through the delicate grass tips, and using a long tippet, was able get a couple of seconds of dead drift.

Back in position to cast to the rising fish, John skipped the hopper through the veil of grass tips like skipping a flat stone on a lake. The hopper only drifted about 6 inches before it disappeared in a gentle “gulp.”

After several long minutes he worked the big fish to the narrower, faster end of the pool and slid his net under a truly gorgeous 22 inch female rainbow. A quick photo, and he watched her swim strongly away.

The moral of the story: Practice, done right, does indeed, make perfect.

A very lovely hopper eater that required a bit of practice to take.

“Mr. Furimsky, your mission, should you elect to accept it, is to hook a nice big tarpon—90 lb. class—in the dorsal fin and actually land it.” My friends, Chuck Furimsky (owner and manager of the Fly Fishing Shows), and Harry Schoel (a mutual friend from Holland), went after the finny denizens of the deep—actually finny denizens of the flats—and connected. Harry landed his first tarpon, and that’s when Chuck decided to do him one better. The trick is to get the tarpon to take the fly with it’s dorsal fin rather than its mouth—a tough sell to say the least. Well, being a strategist, Chuck got the fish to eat the fly and then jump and throw it. As the tarpon settle back into the water, a quick move of the fly rod crossed the line over the fish’s body such that the hook impaled the dorsal fin. And then the fun began.

Why, Chuck asked, should one be subject to a mere fight, when one can be subject to a double fight. Why fight just one end of a fish when one can fight both ends at the same time? And so it was Battle Royal to say the least. Finally, just a Chuck was ready to drop and cry “Uncle,” the fish slide in next to the boat and surrendered—more to get the annoying thing out of its fin than because it was tired in any way. And then the ignoble ignoring of the others. They were so devastated by Chuck’s pinnacle of performance, they felt so overwhelmed by his feat of master angling, that they wouldn’t even take a picture of his fish!! Can you imagine the shame they will have to bear for the remainder of their angling days. They had a chance to record an historic moment and let it slip by out of envy and spite. Tisk, tisk.

Chuck had to settle with a picture of a smaller fish caught by conventional, in-the-mouth tactics. Our sympathies go out to you, Chuck, you are one of those rarefied individuals that has not only the ability to hook tarpon in unconventional ways, but of landing them unconventionally, too. Your next mission? Hook a 30 lb. albacore in the dorsal and land it in under an hour.

Harry’s first ever tarpon, and a nice one, too. Congrats, Harry.

Chuck, fighting both ends against the middle.

Ho Hum, Chuck had to settle for a picture of a smaller tarpon–still a nice fish though.

Michigan’s Pere Marquette is boasting the big browns of the past thanks to new catch and release rules on an important section of the river. Guide Tommy Lynch (see link to the right), who floats the river with great regularity, loves to fish for the big browns with mice imitations late into the darkness of night. And the rewards for his clients are remarkable. Look at this 29-inch hog, male brown that Tommy recently boated. I’ll take all those I can get.

PM (both Pere Marquette, and late night) guide Tommy Lynch with what can only be described as a hog brown.

Its Hex time in the Midwest, and the big mayflies are bringing up big trout. My friend, Jim Hagar, spent a night with guide Tommy Lynch (see here), on the Pere Marquette. Before dark, Jim nailed a big brown on a hopper, and then as the dark settled, he hung a 21-inch brown on a Hex dry, and missed three more. If you want the best dry fly fishing of the season in the Midwest, now is the time-nighttime that is.

During the day, big browns like this will come to a well presented hopper. Nice work Jim!

The mosquitoes are thick (hence cigar), but the Hex’s are even thicker–cloud like as a matter of fact. This bg brown was gobbling its share before Jim hooked him.

I’m headed to Alaska with my friend, Dave Graebel, in search of some big rainbows on the dry fly. This is the time to do it. The trout are not yet so fixated on eggs that they will take nothing else. And, the mayflies are on the wing—both the Western Green Drake and the PMDs. I’ve got the dry flies all tied and resting patiently in the box. And I’ve got my Stroft tippet material packed, too (see here).

But this is also the time when the sockeye fry migrate from the headwater streams down to the first lake, there to remain for a year or two until they become smolts that migrate to the sea. The big rainbows eat the fry by the bucketful, and so, having a good selection of fry flies in the box is a wise move.

One of the chief features of the young fry is the very large eyes, relative to the size of their body. I tie the inch long or so flies on salmon egg hooks or other similar short shank hooks because the wire in them is extra strong. A caddis bend hook or other similar fly tying hook is often straightened by Alaska’s husky bows. And I fish them on 2X so that I can really pour the pressure to them on my 9 foot 6 or 7 wt Hardy Zenith rod.

In the past, I tied the flies, added stick on eyes, and then coated the head with epoxy, stuck them on a drying wheel and came back 24 hours later to claim the finished product. Not now. Now I use Silvercreek’s Crystal UV Coat. It cures in seconds, literally, and is not tacky when hardened. It comes in two varieties (1) the original, either thick or thin, and (2) Flexthin. I love ‘em all. Tie the fly, slap on the eyes, coat the head with cement, shine the UV light on it and voila, it’s done. When I coat the head, I go right over the eyes so that everything is fused into a single unit. Works like a charm. The little bullet head allows the fly to get under the surface with ease, and the eyes stay put fish after fish.

Silvercreek’s Crystal Coat comes in a 15cc bottle, with applicator, for $15.00. That’s enough for hundreds of flies. You can get it, and/or a UV flashlight or UV laser from picaboo@charter.net (at this time they only ship to US addresses). Read more about this great product at http://tinyurl.com/kkctayx

The first step in the fry fly is to tie in a little crystalline flash material. This will form the core o fhb body, and give a bit of flash from time to time.

Form a loop and spin a bit of cream fur to form a 3-D hackle. Wind over front half of shank to form body.

Add the stick on eyes, one on either side, obviously.

Coat the head and eyes with UV coat, hit em with UV light, and the fry fly is complete

Silvercreek’s UV coat comes in a 15cc bottle with brush applicator/ Easy and very fast to use.

Both UV Coats come in a 15cc bottle with an applicator brush. They are $15.00 each.

I also carry two types of UV flashlights and a UV laser.

Let  your readers know that they can reach me at picaboo@charter.net for information. I ship only to USA addresses.

They can read about what I offer at:

http://tinyurl.com/kkctayx

What do fly fisher’s do when not fishing. Many of us tie flies, but that can’t occupy every brain cell. Theo Bakelaar is certainly a fly fisher and fly tyer, but his other interests run to things like the carving that you see below. This one features a polished figure standing in the stone from which it was cut. Very elegant.

One might expect a fly fisher or a fish, but not so.  This elegant carving is by our fly fishing friend, Theo Bakelaar, shows another side to his creative genius.