The quest for the perfect 7wt

I somehow developed an infatuation with seven-weight fly rods this past winter.

Not actually owning a 7wt fly rod didn't prevent this infatuation from forming. That would make sense. As one would expect, logic cannot be allowed to step in the way when it comes to fishing gear. Thus the search for a worthy 7wt began.

Note: I will henceforth refer to it as 7wt Fever.

My research began with targeting smallmouth and was expanded to include Atlantic salmon and then light saltwater angling.

And it was based on this maxim:
Choosing the rod for the size of flies you wish to cast, not the size of fish you wish to catch.

I'll break this down into the various species:

Smallmouth Bass
For smallmouth, my Redington Predator 6wt was great for casting size 4-8 flies, including weighted flies like Clousers and crawfish patterns. But it was severely lacking the backbone necessary for big, wind-resistant deer hair poppers and beefy flies like Barr's Meat Whistle and larger, heavier Clousers. And, while I can easily cast these flies on my 8wt, the fun of 1-3lb smallies is slightly diminished on the  big stick.

And fun is what matters, right?

Enter Doug from Smallmouth Fly Box (with a quote from Tim Holschlag of smallmouthflyangler.com):

If you are going to pick out a favorite rod you have to start with the perfect overall line weight for the species you are after.  The type of water you fish, wind conditions, fly sizes etc. are all factors when choosing a line weight, but many agree that the ideal line weight for smallmouth bass is a 7wt. 

First off, a 7wt is a nice weight to lug around all day, avoiding arm fatigue is always a good thing.  I can toss a large popper as well as a beefy streamer with this weight rod.  If paired with the right line a 7 weight can punch through wind, but if cast correctly it can quietly lay out a bug without a splash.  The 7 weight is the perfect balance between brute force and finesse....and it give you options to toss top water poppers or streamers. 

Smallmouth legend Tim Holschlag had this to say about the 7 weight: 

"What if a person wants to fish different types of water, but can only afford one good rod?  That's simple--get a 7-weight, 9 1/2', medium-stiff, medium-fast action good quality rod.  7-weights may be out of style right now, but they're still the best all-purpose smallmouth rods available.  Over the course of a year, I probably use a 7-weight more than any other type of rod." 

I agree with Tim completely, but I tend to deviate from his recommendation for medium-stiff and medium-fast action rods.  Who am I to contradict Tim Holschlag, a guy that fishes more in one year than I have fished in my lifetime.  Good thing all of this is personal preference! 

So mark one up for 7wt Fever for smallies.

Note - As mentioned in numerous previous posts, my go-to bass rig is now the Cabela's 7/8wt CGR, perfectly paired with Sage's 230gr Performance Bass (Bluegill) line spooled on a Hardy Ultralite 7000DD reel. If I do say so myself, it is the best combination of rod-reel-line I have ever pieced together. And it does support 7wt Fever, as it is officially listed as a 7/8-weight.

Atlantic salmon
Ask any number of New Brunswick fly anglers what rod weight to use for Atlantic salmon and the majority will swear up and down you need an eight or nine weight fly rod.

But applying my rod-for-fly-size maxim above, I decided an 8wt might be too much rod, and a 9wt could definitely be considered overkill* - especially with the cast-cast-step-cast-cast-step methodology used for fishing salmon pools. It's a lot of damn casting.

* - Two contrasting points here: One, the Main Southwest Miramichi is a big river, and the wind can definitely howl. So an 8wt could definitely be beneficial in those situations. Conversely, the typical salmon angler on the Miramichi is almost as old as the river itself, so one would think they would appreciate casting a lighter rod. Just something else to think about.

The fly-size factor was a non-issue: no Atlantic salmon fly is as heavy nor as wind-resistant as a smallmouth fly. For one, current New Brunswick salmon fishing regulations do not permit weighted flies. And the biggest salmon bomber is nowhere near the size of a deer hair popper.

Salmon flies, for the majority of patterns, can be easily cast with rods as light as 5wt.

As for fighting and landing the fish, the rod weight, should be a non-issue. Though a number of 15-20lb salmon are caught each week during the fishing season (except, of course, by me), the majority of salmon hooked are in fact 3-7lb juveniles called grilse.

And that doesn't take into consideration the conventional thinking for leader/tippet test used on the Miramichi is 8lb test, quite often used as a straight piece of 8lb-Maxima tied to the fly line (only us "fancy city boys" or "know-nuthin' youngsters" would ever use a knotless tapered leader...).

So I came to an extremely profound observation in my 7wt Fever study:
Eight-pound test is still eight-pound test, no matter what rod weight you are fishing.

Chalk another point for 7wt Fever.

Light Saltwater
The species (sea trout, snook, redfish, baby tarpon, bonefish) included in this portion of the study were more difficult to justify for 7wt Fever. For me, that is.

For one, as much as I love it, I don't saltwater fish enough to call myself a 'saltwater fly angler'....yet*. So I have to pay attention to guys like Austin Orr, Bjorn Stromness, Davin Ebanks, Captain Gordon & others for a lot of their knowledge and opinions.

* - More on this in the near-future. Some of you (Cameron, Dave, Dean, Scotty D, Tara...if you guys actually read this shit) already know what I'm talking about :)

Secondly, the oft-present sea breezes an angler encounters on the flats can definitely warrant the ubiquitous 8wt saltwater rod. As does the heavier, more wind-resistant fly patterns the angler might be throwing at any given time.

That being said, I am of the opinion there are times where a 7wt would be an ideal choice for light saltwater fly fishing. Especially if the angler can cast. Which I can't, sometimes...

I'll give a half-point for 7wt Fever in light saltwater.

*          *          *

As the winter months waned, one, shortly followed by a second, 7wt rod fell off the rack at the shop and into the back of my truck (somehow).

However much I stumble through life trying to use critical thinking and not being susceptible to marketing propaganda, the lack of fishing and extreme cold of winter can really throw a wrench into the works. This is breakdown in sanity is often magnified by my addiction to appreciation of fly fishing gear, and a generous staff discount at the local fly shop.

The first rod was a Loop XACT 907-4. It had a medium-fast action and a really comfortable cork-mix handle. In fact, I think I may have bought the rod solely for the handle. I liked the feel of the handle. I mean, I really liked the feel of the handle. Enough to buy the damn rod without casting it.

But it turns out, I didn't like casting the rod. In my quiver post, I had this to say about the XACT:

I have a little twinge of buyer's remorse over this, as I don't necessarily love the medium-fast action on this rod & sometimes wish I would have went with a TFO TiCr, TiCrX or Axiom. But it is what it is, so I'll cope (for now).

Another minor issue was the stripping guide was of an extremely small diameter. I don't know why, but it bothered me...but it doesn't bother me on the CGR. Go figure.

Needless to say, I didn't end up coping for long, as the shop received an order of TFO's Axioms at the end of March. And the XACT was eventually sold to my uber-friendly British Smallmouth Fishing Client (more on that in a future post).

Once the Axiom came along, it was all over. Comfortable grip. Lightweight. Fast action. Big stripping guides. Heck, even the components matched up with my new Tibor Backcountry. On Instagram, I called the Axiom & Tibor Backcountry combo my "one rig to rule them all."

Matched up with an Airflo Ridgeline freshwater fly line, I felt I could cast this setup until the end of time. Salmon flies, weighted bass flies or deer hair poppers, it didn't matter. It truly was one rig to rule them all.

(Cue happy, running-through-flowery-meadow music...like Ray Stevens's 'Everything is Beautiful')

Until I had to make a shot at a tailing carp, less than thirty feet away.

(Cue 'Everything is Beautiful' suddenly stopping to that record-scratching noise)

Fifteen feet of fly line did not, would not, and could not load the Axiom. It was the only shot at a carp that day.

*          *          *

A few days later I was in the Charleston area on a flats skiff with a new 8wt Airflo saltwater line for the Axiom-Backcountry rig. I figure over-lining the rod would solve the rod-loading problem. I was wrong.

Now, if I was a smart man, I would have spent some time practicing short shots in the days leading up to this fishing trip. But nobody ever said I was a smart man.

I did manage to make some shots as the afternoon progressed. But even with the Axiom over-lined with the 8wt, making short shots was extremely difficult. The rod just didn't load...or, at least I couldn't find the sweet-spot of it loading with so little fly line out of the tip.

Perhaps this wasn't the one rig to rule them all.

Note: I am not absolving myself of the blame. I'll be the first to admit I am not a great caster, and I don't practice my casting enough. Especially short, quick shots typical of sight casting. And that day in particular, this rule was made abundantly clear to me.

*          *          *

The next night I went out for a quick fish with Captain Gordon outside of Morehead City, NC. The fish were not biting, and we each only took a few casts (it was a fun detour to make, and totally worth it, fish or not).

That night I decided to use the Backcountry on my Redington CPX 8wt. My lightsaber. I truly love this rod. It's fast, but not uber-fast like the Axiom. I could feel the line load the road. My casts were going where I wanted them. I felt my casting mojo return slightly.

I hoped the Axiom was jealous.

*          *          * 

Yesterday morning I clicked over to my Google Reader feeds for the first time in almost three weeks. Amongst the 150 unread posts, I discovered this gem written by Davin Ebanks as a guest post on Bjorn's blog.

I read it twice. Lightbulb moment. Especially this part:

Here’s the straight skinny: ultra-fast rods are the worst rods for bonefishing. I say this for both the expensive and inexpensive sticks. If you can’t feel a rod with less than 30 feet of line out the tip, you’ll miss most bonefish. Bonefishing happens between 30-50 feet. That’s pretty close, and they’re usually moving toward you. You have very little time to get the fly out and feed the fish. If you’ve got to make half-dozen false casts just to load the rod, that fish will be inside 30 feet by then and you’re done. Game over. Redo from start. What you really need is a rod that allows you to cast to that sweet spot in 1-2 false casts. You should not be struggling to feel the rod, and you should be able to accurately present the fly inside 30 feet.

That's a decent summation of what happened in Charleston, except I didn't make a half-dozen false casts. I just tried to force the line. And failed miserably.

Davin's post definitely shed new light into my quest for the perfect 7wt.

*          *          *

But it's a quest that is now on hold.

I'm in one of those "be happy with what I have" states of mind. The CGR is my go-to bass rig, which I love casting & fighting fish on. I have the Airflo 7wt freshwater lines for the Axiom once I make my return to Atlantic salmon fishing next year. The CPX 8wt and the Backcountry pair up nicely, which will be my go-to rod in Belize next month.

So I guess my case of 7wt Fever has subsided....for now. There is a Redington CPX 7wt back at the shop, after all...

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Gone Fishin'

Just putting the finishing touches on my packing job for a two-day crown reserve water trip. Crown reserve here in New Brunswick is "a limited entry fishery, whereby angling opportunities on prime salmon and brook trout angling waters are allocated on a rod-per-day basis" (Gov't of NB website).

In other words, it gives us peasants who don't own the best private salmon pools a chance to fish good water without paying $500 per day.

Of course, when the government introduced mandatory catch & release regulation on some stretches to ease pressure on low salmon numbers, two-thirds of the peasants gave up their allocated days.

Civilized world, meet New Brunswick... #Facepalm

But for me, it's two days chasing my nemesis.

Happy Friday.

Nemesis

nem·e·sis (noun)  \ˈne-mə-səs\

• a formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent

*          *          *

My first experience with Atlantic salmon was with my uncle Guy (pronounced either the correct French way, as in 'Gee Lafleur,' or the bastardized version, as in Guy Smiley. Totally your choice. He'll go by either). Uncle Guy was the first one to put a fly rod in my hand on the Miramichi River.

I was 15 years old and grounded for missing curfew or something like that. I wasn't a bad kid by any means, it's just my parents had an (unreasonably) early curfew for me. It was easy to be late for curfew; I'd have to leave halfway through movies to be on time for curfew.

My friend & neighbour Paul used to tell me: "You can be late or not late. You can't be 'more late.'" It was hard to argue with that logic, so I really missed curfew that time. Turns out you could be more late after all.

So Uncle Guy came and hauled me off to his brother's camp for a few nights to get me out of my parents' hair. He introduced me to: fly casting for salmon, reading current seams, reading holding water, drinking Japanese sake, and drinking Lamb's Rum. Some punishment, huh?

Note to self: when I become a parent, never send the kids off with uncle Guy to a fishing camp for 'punishment,' but by all means send them for life lessons...

I hooked one salmon, did a massive trout-set, and it threw the hook on the first jump. And that was that.

*          *          *

Within a couple years, I started playing competitive rugby, curfews went away, I was off to university, yada yada yada. Salmon fishing didn't happen again for a while. I did, however, start eating salmon in its raw, Japanese form while in Vancouver.

If you ever find yourself living in Vancouver, you should expect to eat a lot of meals alone unless you eat sushi.

I preferred the wild Pacific salmon over the farmed Atlantic salmon. It had a better taste, consistency and colour. Consistency was the big thing when I started eating sushi: some things I couldn't chomp down on without getting a little queasy. I was good with the wild salmon, all wrapped nice and neat with rice and seaweed and avocado.

But I never fished for salmon in British Columbia (well, not until last summer).

*          *          *

I started trying for Atlantic salmon on the fly rod once again a few years ago. At first, they were admittedly half-hearted attempts with poor conditions and late in the season. I always considered salmon fishing as 'bonus fishing,' something to extend the fly fishing season after trout season ends (trout season here ends on September 15th, while salmon season runs until October 15th).

Once I made my move into smallmouth bass fishing on the fly, I dismissed the salmon fishing as an annoyance: dealing with private pools or crowded public pools, fickle fish, fickle anglers, extra driving time & money spent on gas, so on & so forth.

Smallies on the fly were keeping it real....yo.

But one can only get razzed for not catching salmon for so long when you're always hanging about a fly shop before you really have to go out and do it (if only to get people to shut the hell up).

So I hit the books and the interwebz on everything I could read on salmon fishing. And steelhead, too, because there are lots of similarities between the two fish. And it paid off: my first day on the water after my extensive self-directed online course, I caught two, back-to-back. I felt like King Shit of Turd Island: what was so hard about that?

Then this happened.

I was in a deep, dark place when I wrote that. And not deep in the woods, like Yellow Pine, Idaho, either. It was Joseph Conrad-type shit for fishing.

Atlantic salmon became the official nemesis of Mat Trevors.

Constantly outwitted by something with the brain the size of a pea? For that, there's MasterCard.

*          *          *

This season, things started off differently. More upbeat, cheerful. Fish came easy: bass and trout here at home, grayling in Alaska.

Even the other night, I was casting away to see if any of the salmon run made it upriver as far as I was when I received a text to go bass fishing. "Gladly," I thought. No big deal, haven't seen any fish roll or jump*. Besides, I was going back out salmon fishing in the morning, further downstream.

* - The Atlantic salmon's propensity to roll and jump can send me into the above-mentioned deep, dark place: there will be several, if not dozens, of fish jumping, rolling and splashing around. Sometimes within a few feet of where I'm wading, scaring the livin' bejeebus outta me. Based on my personal history, once salmon start to jump & roll, I should just leave. My nerves get too frazzled from the combination of seeing lots of fish, having them jump behind me to freak me out, and having none of them take a fly. See what I mean? They mock me. Nemesis.

The next morning (yesterday, as I type this) is when things went a little sideways.

The pool was crowded. Two guides and their sports worked the privately owned water just above the public pool. Two anglers in a jonboat were fishing the far side of the public pool. And eight people, including myself, were doing the cast-and-step shuffle, as dictated be Ye Olde Angling Etiquette.

Crowded or not, it turned out to be one of those epic sessions: eight fish were hooked in the span of about an hour. All bright fish, fresh in with the recent high water.

One of the biggest of those eight salmon was 12-15 pounds. It was fought hard and fought well for about seven minutes. With about ten feet of fly line out of the tip, the salmon was soon to be tailed. But then it decided to fuck with the angler, swim directly toward him and throw the hook in the slack line. The angler tried his best to maintain a positive demeanour, but disappointment and disbelief was unmistakable.

In reality, I fought the fish for a good length of time and was going to release the fish anyway. I'm excited that I chose the right fly, read the water correctly, made the proper cast, hooked the fish and fought him well. I didn't even have to handle him, so he was off to swim and spawn and be hooked again. But I would have an easier time sleeping at night (and handling the upcoming razzing at the fly shop) if I would have at least grabbed the leader before he popped off.

I'm going back tomorrow morning, getting on the road in about seven hours. On the water in eight.

And hopefully I'll be face to face with my nemesis shortly after that.

Side Project

Time/Date: 2220, 02-Feb-12
Location: Fredericton

You may or may not know this already, but I love side projects.

They range from bars, social media consulting, the fly shop, conservation groups, carpentry, and, yes, even geology. Be it for cash, future considerations, fun or altruistic reasons, it's good to be busy.

Besides, it can't be always about catching fish, right?

This side project runs a little on the fun & altruistic reasons. Fun because I like causing shit, and altruistic because I think this shit is bad.

So I give you....

The Little Page of Aquaculture Horrors

facebook.com/saveourwildfish

The aquaculture industry, with the farming of Atlantic salmon in particular, is doing some bad shit. This bad shit is happening in Canada, USA, Chile, Scotland and Norway. And in order to save our wild salmon, it needs to be addressed ASAP.

This has been brewing within me for a few months. It started when I attended a fundraising dinner of a local salmon association and saw one of the main sponsors was an aquaculture company. The same company that very recently had charges brought against it for illegally using pesticides in the open ocean. This got me thinking, reading...and angry.

This page will NOT be preachy; in fact, I'll only be linking to existing news bulletins, peer-reviewed journal articles, presentations and more. Heck, I'll even link to positive stories about the aquaculture industry (if I can find them).

Comments will be strongly moderated, too; no matter what side of the aisle a person's viewpoint is, I won't be tolerating hateful shit & conspiracy theories.

So if you care about this kind of stuff, I hope you 'like' it: www.facebook.com/saveourwildfish

Here's another side project...but not of mine:

On slumps.

Time/Date: 2300 MST, 06-Oct-11
Location: Yellow Pine, Idaho

I'll be honest: this post might not apply to the occasional weekend warrior that fishes every second or third Saturday morning for a few hours. I understand (without any sort of prejudice at all) that, while you enjoy fishing, it's not high on the priority list; wives/kids/jobs/household chores/whatever have to be attended to before fishing can be even thought of.

This post is more for the three or four or more times a week guys & gals that are obsessed with fly fishing. Out on the water, fishing hard, for hours on end, for days at a time.

And not catching anything.

My recent (current?) slump started precisely when I released my second Atlantic salmon ever. Which happened approximately 15 minutes after I released my first Atlantic salmon ever. I was feeling pretty good about myself (you can read about it here).

Two days later, I was back at it again.

Cast. Mend. Swing. Step. Repeat.

Hours go by, but, hey, this worked the other day. I did my homework. There were fish around, too; they were jumping throughout the run & the pool. A tug! Damn, it didn't take. Oh well, there's fish around, though!

This is the first stage of slumps: overconfidence, bordering on delusion. It's almost karma that a slump is starting.

Cast. Mend. Swing. Step. Repeat.

Days go by. Changed flies. Changed leaders. Changed spools. Adjusted speed of swing. Started dead-drifting bombers. Flies are changed more frequently. Back to swinging.

Slump, stage two: self-doubt.

Cast. Mend. Swing. Step. Repeat.

Rain for a couple days didn't stop me, nor did the high water from the rain. But it slowed me down. And I started swearing.

The fish are still jumping, though. All over the place.

Stage three: annoyance

Cast (casts start falling apart).

Mend (and mend and mend and mend...and yank the fly out of the fish's mouth).

Swear (did I mention I'm now swearing aloud, and fishing by myself? Great for tourism...).

Swing (fly's hung up on a boulder...give it a tug...fish comes up with it...the fly comes loose in midair).

Swear (again).

Step (and slip).

Swear (again),

Repeat (for 12 out of 15 days).

Stage four: anger & self-loathing.

********

Based on numerous experiences, in life and in fishing, firsthand or secondhand, the following are possible outcomes from here:

• the slumping angler finally catches his fish, and falls to his knees sobbing with tears of joy & elation;
• the slumping angler tells off all the Atlantic salmon (and, inadvertently, the two elderly anglers) within earshot, and goes fly fishing for smallmouth;
• the slumping angler, in a moment of frustration, purposely makes his Helios rod from a 4-piece rod to a 12-piece rod;
• the slumping angler, tired of seeing photos of fish in magazines, books a flight, hotel & guide in New Orleans for sight fishing for redfish.

Wanna guess what two-and-a-half out of four outcomes I've done?
(hint: I don't own an Orvis rod).

********

This is the part that might lose me a few fans...well, I don't have any fans, but it'll probably cause a few people to think of me differently.

The following are things I hold to be true, and they tie in quite well with slumps:

"Well, you know...it's just being out there, enjoying the fresh air and nature and stuff...."

Bollocks.

If I wanted to just enjoy fresh air and nature and "stuff," I would own a backpack and a pair of hiking boots, and that's it. Or maybe a bicycle. Or maybe I'd go sit on a park bench with some breadcrumbs for birds.

I would not own a 3-weight, a 5-weight, a 6-weight, an 8-weight (4-piece), an 8-weight (5-piece), an 8-weight (2-piece fiberglass), a 10-weight, and a 12-weight. I would not be standing privates-deep in 50°F water in the rain in 25mph wind gusts. I would not be collecting Aeroplan & Alaska Air points like some sicko hoarder from reality television for future fishing adventures & schemes.

I do this because the pulse of energy, transmitted from leader to line to rod to me, when a fish takes my fly, is my crack-cocaine.

I fish to catch fish. It's what I live for (now).

And then I let them go. All of them.

"You know what they say: a bad day fishin' is better than the best day at work!"

I say this one myself sometimes. For me, it's largely true: I'd rather fish and get skunked than be at work.

But when it's howling wind, sideways rain, four or five degrees above freezing, and there's a better shot of not catching a fish than catching one...add in waking up at 4AM, spending over $100 on gas (and $35 on beef jerky?!) in three days, arguing with your girlfriend about fishing, losing flies, and chipping your windshield....

...maybe it's just better for you to go to work.

"10% of the anglers catch 90% of this fish."

I don't know if this is true or not.

If it is, I want to be in that 10%. Honestly, I want to be even better than that.

I'm not there...yet. But I'm trying my damnedest by learning one or two new things to help me reach that goal each day.

It's just this effin' slump is getting in my way.

"You can't catch anything without a hook in the water."

Yup.

That's why I go fishing in howling wind, sideways rain, when it's four or five degrees above freezing, and there's a better shot of not catching a fish than catching one. And why I don't mind waking up at 4AM, spending over $100 on gas and $35 on beef jerky in three days; and I deal with arguing with my girlfriend about fishing, losing flies, and chipping my windshield....

Randomness

Time/Date: 1320, 28-Sep-11

Location: F'ton

I haven't caught any fish in over two weeks.

The bastard's back & welcoming me
with open arms.

Two additional outings to attempt to wash the stench of skunk off in the Miramichi River have failed.

I had one salmon take yesterday, but I thought the fly hung up on a boulder and was thoroughly surprised to see a a salmon jump when I gave the rod a snap to dislodge the fly from the so-called boulder, thus dislodging said fly from said salmon's mouth.

'Surprised' quickly changed to 'pissed off at self.'

There's no feeling like the self-loathing one does in the midst of a slump.

********

For those unaware, I've been writing a weekly Dispatch from Canada on the blog of Mooseknuckle Lanyards. Being busy with launching a new startup, the owner, Jeremy, asked a few of us in the online fishing tribe to contribute articles to the blog site.

Excluding the dribble I'm spewing on a weekly basis, the writing is really good; it comprises trip reports, gear reviews, beer reviews, and lots of other miscellaneous content. You can check it out here.

********

Enjoy some music:

Click here if you can't see the video below

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Bankers' Hours (part I)

Time/Date: 1915, 12-Sep-11
Location: Fredericton

Here's a story some guys might relate to:

Remember that hometown hottie that never paid any attention to you back in junior high or high school?

No matter what you did to woo her, she'd just ignore you. Or worse yet, mock & torment you.

Then fast-forward a few years, after you've been away at school or for work, you go back for a visit. You've become a little more confident. Hotties from other places paid attention to you.

And you've learned a few things...

So you throw your best, new skills out there and.........

My version of this story does not involve a girl.

It involves a fish. Namely, Atlantic salmon.

First things first: I am not a hardcore salmon fisherman.

Up until last fall, I was a trout guy. I might make a trip or two for salmon before trout season closes, but I never got into salmon fishing until after September 15th (& before October 15th). Even then, it was only a few times...and occasionally half-hearted affairs in the middle of a Nor'easter.

Then I went fishing for reds in Louisiana. And my world came tumbling down.

I wanted to catch everything and anything after that.

At least I can look the part...

But Atlantic salmon remained elusive. The fish that every fly rodder in the province of New Brunswick focused on persisted to be that hometown hottie that ignored me.

I've been close to swearing off any & all pursuit for salmon...many times. Perceived slights by Mr. Salmo salar over the years include:

• The time one rolled over my fly after tossing it out with my non-casting hand to start my cast, and never being seen again (possibly due to my girlish yelp). 
• The time a twenty-plus-pounder jumped out of the water less than three feet to my left, almost causing me to shat myself. 
• And the time one swam up to me to use my legs as a current break. 
• And also the one I sight-cast to that gently moved just out of the way of my perfectly presented fly.

Hence the mocking & tormenting.

Then there's the folks 'round these parts who have the mindset of 'The Greatest & Only Fish Worth Pursuing is Atlantic Salmon.' They drive me bonkers. But that's for a different post.

Even though some of them might be your friends, who kid with Facebook comments of "Well, it's no Atlantic salmon, but good job!" when you post a pic of a 40" northern pike on your profile...Bucky...

I'd like to believe it's as easy as you're rewarded with being permitted to land a game fish at such time the Gods of Fate think you deserve it.

But it's not like that.

Sometimes it takes listening to a podcast on Atlantic salmon four or five times while you're away working. And reading every article you can find online about salmon & steelhead fishing, swinging flies, mending line, water temperatures, seasons, weather conditions, fly patterns, water clarity, and biology.

And sometimes it also takes a stranger named Basil that offers you a fly called the Chief Needahbeh, saying "Let's get you one now" and "I expect your line to go tight any minute."

After all those things came together, the line did go tight. 

Twice, actually.

Thus vanquishing the piscatorial monkey off my back.

Twice. 

I pray I don't have to go back to the start for the next ones.

Salmon #1

Gettin' cocky by tailing the second salmon

Kype!

Enjoy some tunes.
(Click here if you can't see the video below)

This is one of the bands I caught onstage on Friday night, The Stanfields. They're worth a listen.

And here's something different from them if you need it:

 

 

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Musical Interlude (again)

Time/Date: 1210 AST, 09-Sep-11
Location: HOME!

I made it home.

I'm excited about this; it's five weeks off. In the best part of the season for Atlantic Salmon...and smallies, stripers and muskie...oh my!

I'll have some fishy content next week after I take a few days to win back the love of my girlfriend & Awesome the dog.

My new furled leader, fly box, and a couple books were waiting for me when I returned home. Notes about using/reading them will be included in this so-called fishy content I speak of.

Hope everyone enjoys their weekend. I'm going to Lava Vodka Lounge & seeing Bedouin Soundclash tonight.

Here's some music. Definitely NOT Bedouin Soundclash. Enjoy!

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(Another) All-Encompassing Blog Post

Time/Date: 1515 AST, 11-Aug-11
Location: Fredericton

This one's gonna cover a lot of bases, so let's get started.

First up, a recap of the mini-odyssey.

Wednesday/Thursday: drove into the New Brunswick wilds, 50 km down dirt logging roads to catch monster trout & salmon.

We caught neither. A few salmon parr and a few trout, the largest for me being 11". Biggest trout of the trip was about 17". Lots of fishing, lots of rain.

Humble abode of night #1

What my buddy Steve refers to as his bear burrito

The five-star kitchen area

Makeshift storage locker

Thursday evening I spent at my folks' place, where I ate. And ate. And ate some more. Herb & garlic cheese rolls, heated with butter. Pasta. Cookies. Cake. Brilliance.

While there, I started some heavy-duty research into my next leg of the mini-odyssey: I flipped a coin. Heads: Gaspe, Quebec for Atlantic salmon; Tails: Fundy short of Nova Scotia for stripers. Oh, the joys of having a full quiver of 5wt, 6wt, 8wt & 10wt rods traveling with you.

Tails it was, so off to Nova Scotia for some striped bass dreams (delusions). With a loaf of fresh banana bread & a bag of chocolate chip cookies, courtesy of Mom.

I fished the incoming/outgoing tide on Friday night. I fished the incoming/outgoing tide Saturday morning. Same for Saturday evening. And on Sunday morning. And again on Sunday evening.

Finally, while on my last legs on Sunday night, in piss-pouring rain, with a Clouser that was also on its last legs, it happened. I hooked and landed my first striped bass on the fly rod.

It was 14" long.

I awoke to strong winds and a torrential downpour at 5AM Monday (I actually woke up because if it). My tent was half-floating, and run-off was visibly flowing by the door of the tent. I planned to fish, but decided enough was enough. I hit the road home.

All total, I camped out 4 of 5 nights, bought only one "meal" at a restaurant (egg mcmuffins on Monday morning on the drive), drove over 1300km and fished over 40 hours for a bunch of fish where the two biggest totaled twenty-five inches.

I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

Camp Striper, right on the seashore

8- & 10-weights, locked & loaded

Sunset at Camp Striper

Dawn Patrol

Due to the early departure from Camp Striper, I planned on scouting a rumored smallie hotspot on the drive home; however, a few flashes of lightning as I approached the turn off for it scuttled that plan pretty quick. I'm not sure if carbon fiber rods conduct electricity or not, but I didn't really feel like finding out. So no fishing on Monday.

Tuesday I was back at it, with a few 10-14" smallies caught, but H-core fishing was being interrupted by numerous kayakers and unleashed dogs & kids (yes, unleashed kids) going through the spot I was fishing. It became quite apparent that "urban angling" is a relatively unheard of phenomenon here.

(Side note: a kid throwing a rock into where you're fishing is kinda cute & funny the first, and maybe the second, time it happens. When it happens 5-6 times in a summer, I'm tempted to launch a 1/0 Clouser in the direction of the parents. Just sayin'.)

Wednesday was wet & miserable. I drove some coffee & donuts out to the shale gas protesters blockading the road (this blocking the seismic trucks from their exploration targets) and ended up donating a tarp to the cause to help keep them out of the rain. That deed done, I went fishing.

I decided to try out a new spot, Just upriver of one of my usual haunts for smallmouth. I looked at about five square feet of a foamy back-eddy, and thought to myself, "There has to be a bass in there."

All I gotta say, karma can really rock sometime. There was a bass in there. A big-ass bass.

So now I'm done fishing for another three weeks. Packing fishing gear away and packing work gear into my duffel bag.

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This weekend is FredRock. If you're in the area, I can't stress how much fun it's gonna be, so go check it out. Click here for more info.

I'm terribly sorry to be missing it (again) this year, but c'est la vie. Small-term sacrifices for long-term gains.

Here's a tune from Sam Roberts Band, the headlining act. I find it semi-appropriate as a post-mini-odyssey tune.

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Mat's (Really Short, Nothing to Brag About) Odyssey

Time/Date: 0710, 03-Aug-11
Location: Soon to be elsewhere


The Mission:

• Catch fish. 
• Have fun.
• Put a dent in the metric shit-ton of chorizo, AKA the Breakfast Meat of (Mexican) Champions, I cooked. That's 1.1023113 American shit-tons, BTW.
• Try to drink more than 5 consecutive beer without falling asleep in the campfire

The Destination:

1. Undisclosed Crown reserve stretch, Miramichi Region, New Brunswick
2. Mom & Dad's for supper & hopefully cookies (HINT HINT)  :)
3. Possibly one of my uncles' camps, Northwest Miramichi River
4. Maybe Gaspe, Quebec (Atlantic salmon)
5. Maybe Nova Scotia (stripers, smallmouth, brown trout)
6. Maybe Maine (stripers, smallmouth, Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies)

Only the first two destinations matter. Independent of the cookie-thing, too.

After that, it's all gravy.

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Here's a tune.

I kinda used to joke this song pertained to my job as a geologist, back in the day. Not so much anymore, as I'd never get to hear as much.

Still works as a good road trip tune for this coming weekend (week?).

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Cool, Old-Timey Ted Williams-Atlantic Salmon Video

It's a wet afternoon.

If you're not fishing, you can kill 28 or so minutes watching this video.

Ted Williams and the Atlantic Salmon from Martin Pitts on Vimeo.

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Location, location, location

Time/Date: 1000AST, 21-Jun-11
Location: Fredericton, NB

Imagine a town with:

You could be fishing & living here...

• smallmouth bass fishing within walking distance.
• muskie fishing within walking distance.
• river-run striped bass fishing within walking distance.
• sea-run brook trout within biking distance and/or 25 minutes' drive.
• pickerel fishing within 20 minutes' drive
• world-class Atlantic salmon fishing within an hours' drive.
• striped bass in the salt in an hours' drive.
• brown trout in an hours' drive
• even more epic salmon & striped bass fishing within 4 hours' drive.

Add in decent (and growing) local music scene, a couple decent coffee shops, a few good pubs & clubs, reasonable rent & real estate...

And a pretty kick-ass local fly shop...

Where is this place?

I'm not telling. 

But if you can figure it out, you're more than welcome to visit.

(This is a basic IQ test: if you can't figure out what town this is, you're too dumb to be here. This is to prevent you getting elected to the provincial government.)

Here's some of that (sort of) local music I speak of. I say 'sort of' because, while not necessarily from here, he visits. Often. In fact, this summer, at FredRock.

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First Video Blog (where I come across as an extra for the Trailer Park Boys)

Date: 15-Oct-10

We went fishing today for the last day of salmon season on the upper SW Miramichi. I'll let the video do the work.

I apologize for swearing & being a downer in this video. Being the last day of the season and having a weather system like this blowing through really bummed me out.

Anyway, this was my first ipod video, first video blog and first youtube upload. A lot of firsts.

Enjoy. Or at least try to.

The best advice for catching fall-season salmon

Time/Date: 2335, 10-Oct-10
Location: F'ton

Here's a quick post to give you the best piece of advice to increase your chances of catching a late-season Atlantic Salmon. I'm not guaranteeing that you will catch a salmon, but you'll be better off taking heed of this.

My advice is this:

DRESS WARM

Wading will be colder than a witch's tit for the last five days of fishing season on the Miramichi River.

If you dress appropriately, with multiple layers:

More comfort = less miserable = more time on the river

++ TIME WITH LINE IN WATER = ++ ODDS OF CATCHING SALMON


BONUS:
Here's an interview from AskAboutFlyFishing.com with Nova Scotia's Paul Marriner for tips & techniques for Atlantic Salmon.