The Hex Files- The Book of Reister

Chapter One

Reister mans the oars as darkness descends over the Au Sable river. He back-rows confidently, eases the boat back on the sand. We wait silently on a bend as the sun sets and the light bleeds from the sky; we watch the Isonychia legions dance and grow, before falling into formation, flying upstream on a mission of sex and death. Only small fish feed.

Then, at that moment just before the light fails completely, the first Hexagenia mayflies begin to flutter above. "Time to pull the anchor my friend" says Reister, and we drift downstream on our magic carpet ride, the music of water and insect wings in our ears, set to the gentle beat of creaking oar locks while mosquitoes sing harmony.

The anchor yet drips silver when the rush of a riffle is punctuated by the splash of a feeding fish. The anchor drops, I stand to cast, but the current, powerful, sweeps us onward, the chain dragging through the gravel as we pass. The fish continues feeding from the conveyor. We pull anchor and continue on.

The Captain, different day

Just downstream another fish is rising rhythmically, sloshing water all over the grass. This time the anchor holds. I cast, cast, cast again, but the fish, a big one, is hard up against the bank in six inches of water, a narrow band of calm against the grass with current ripping past. All presentations are met with the same indifference. The anchor comes up dripping and we follow the current, follow our ears in search of a better target.

We reach a broad quiet stretch, and Reister, master and commander, eases the anchor back to the river bottom.

"What are we doing?" I ask.

"There's always fish here" he replies.

I sit at the bow, blind, deaf and mute. Reister raises a hand and says "Hear that?"

I hear nothing, but the anchor comes up and Reister slips the oars, neatly crossing the current without making a sound or yielding downstream. Silently the anchor goes back in and we wait, ears straining for the telltale sounds.

"There he is" says Reister. I pretend to hear it and agree. Up the anchor comes and the boat drifts closer to the far bank, more silent than the last time. Once again the boat swings on the end of its rope and this time I hear it clearly, the sound of a large fish taking large flies off the surface. The anchor comes up one last time, the back of the boat is pointed at the bank and again the anchor slips silently to the bottom. When the rope swings taut the snout of a fish breaks the water ten feet straight out from me.

We watch it feed a few times but it is moving all over the place. It feeds next to the boat, gradually works its way upstream, so Reister draws his rod from the boat tube like Excalibur from stone. I sit back, grab a turkey leg, take in the show. Cast after cast he works the fish while I listen. As he works that fish I start to hear other noises. When I hear a rise just below the boat simultaneously with Reister's fish I realize we have a crowd.

Reister is in the stern casting, so I start working the fish next to and below the boat. It doesn't take long. A few casts in my fly disappears in a gulp and I set the hook. Up comes the fish, one jump, two jumps, three, a brief run downstream, a lot of headshaking and wringing of fins ("Why god, why!?!") before sliding into the net.

It's a twenty inch rainbow. We take his mugshot for future identification, let him go on self-recognizance, then issue a pardon in his absence and propose a toast. Up comes the anchor, and we slip downstream, ears straining into the night.

bad pic of a good fish

Michigan vs. Georgia- The Numbers

This post was getting kind of long, so I'm breaking it up into a series. I'm examining the profound differences- and similarities- between two very different places.


So let the comparison's begin. I'm new to Georgia. I'll try to avoid the usual stereotypes of North vs. South here. Some are real, some imagined, and some people on both sides of that equation work very hard to keep them alive.

No, this is about the fishing, an inevitable comparison between what is familiar (to me) and what is new- a new landscape, new water, and a new culture as it pertains to fishing.

Michigan brown trout

gorgeous Georgia brown

It's easy to write off the South as the land of catfish and stinkbait, bass boats and B.A.S.S. Masters. Trout hardly exist in Southern Michigan once you get into the farm country, and so the idea of good trout fishing as far south as Georgia seems far fetched, if not hysterical. Surely they only have stocked rainbows, pellet eating fish with rubbed off fins, eking out a miserable living in marginal turbid waters. Then you come down and actually see the waters, and the scales fall from your eyes.

There are two sources of trout water here in the South- tailwaters and the mountain streams. Both are novel concepts to the Michigan native, where the scant tailwaters fish like the rest of the streams, and the "mountains" are just rocky hills. North Georgia has bona fide mountains well over 4,000 feet, with gorgeous tributaries cascading down every ravine. In Michigan streams flow from glacial out-wash, gravel and sand, or in the case of a few in the UP, flowing over Canadian Shield bedrock. Other than cold water it's hard to imagine two more different places.

I'll start this series with statistics on the two states so we have a reference point to start with.

The Numbers

Michigan

Image source: wildtroutstreams.com

Area: 96,716 sq. miles

Population: 9.91 million people

% Water: 41.5

Highest Point: Mt. Arvon 1979 ft.

Miles of trout stream: 16,000 to 20,000 depending on which published stat you believe from the DNR. Also about 60,000 natural lakes and 3288 miles of Great Lakes shoreline.

Stocking: Michigan planted about 6.2 million trout and 7.2 million salmon and lake trout in 2014.

Georgia

Image source: wildtroutstreams.com

Area: 59,425 sq. miles

Population: 10.1 million people

% Water: 2.5

Highest Point: Brasstown Bald, 4784 ft.

Miles of trout stream: 4,500 to 6,000 depending on which GDNR stat you believe. Georgia has few natural lakes, a few major reservoirs, and thousand of smaller impoundments. It also has a couple hundred miles of saltwater coastline.

Stocking: Georgia stocks about 1.3 million trout per year.

The Takeaway

Michigan and Georgia have similar populations and densities; Georgia trout fishing is much closer to multiple US population centers along the east coast. That said, its trout water is adjacent to the trout waters of North Carolina and Tennessee. Michigan has significantly more trout stream, but that can be said compared to any other state except maybe Alaska. In future posts I'll compare the nature of the streams, angling techniques, hatches and flies, regulations, local culture and anything else that comes to mind.

Bear with me. I hope you'll enjoy getting to know the state of Georgia with me.

Maple River, northern Michigan 

Chattooga River, northeast Georgia

Monday Morning Coffee- Turkey Week Edition

GGGGGGrrrrhhhhHHHuuuuurrrkkkkk!!! Yawn, stretch, scratch repeat- It's Monday morning again, so let's have some coffee.

I see from the safe distance that is North Georgia, that Michigan and the upper Midwest have gotten their first snow storm. My social media is showing me that the streamer bite for browns is still good, and that guys are scoring on steelhead and even Atlantic salmon. If El Nino prevails then there should be some decent steelhead fishing all winter.
Between moving and other factors my fishing has been rather spotty. I spent at least a week sick, and last week my back went out and the recovery has been slow, though I'm back at 95% now.

We had a blast of rain come through last week here in Georgia so I got out Friday morning to streamer fish as the water was dropping. I had a couple of really stellar days a couple weeks back when the clouds and drizzle stuck around, but Friday even the stain in the water couldn't offset the bluebird skies. I missed a couple of teener fish and caught three smaller fish. I've been throwing Deceivers, conehead Madonnas, a zoo cougar etc. but by far my best producer this fall has been a muddler minnow. My biggest fish have come on it, though I've missed or lost a couple monster browns on a white deceiver.

one from last week

fatty from two weeks ago

I bought a couple used Orvis reels off of Alex Cerveniak this summer, but never figured out how to switch the retrieve on them for this south paw, so I braved the Atlanta traffic and took then into the Orvis store in Buckhead. Aaron was extremely helpful, and even helped me out with directions to some less traveled fishing spots and fly patterns. This isn't some sort of sponsored plug; I just appreciate good service when I get it. I can't wait to get out and try some spots, and I really love the fact that it's possible to catch fish on a dry every month of the year here.

I have a couple of new posts in the pipeline, and should have a new one up on Gink and Gasoline soon. Dan Frasier has some good thoughts on the impact of social media on fly fishing on the GnG website, so be sure and check that out.

It's going to be a busy week and I have turkey recipes to look up. Happy Thanksgiving and have a great week. Let's get after it.

While We're Banning Things. . .

It was with some dismay that I read the latest F&S blog post by Kirk Deeter. It's probably best if you go read it first. He thinks bobbers need to be banned, if not in fly fishing, then on some designated waters.

I experienced my dismay on a couple of levels- first at the idea that for some people an indicator or bobber rig is their go-to setup, but then I'm spoiled by the stellar dry fly fishing that Michigan offers. I don't know anyone there who ties on a bobber first unless it's the dead of winter and they're after steelhead. Having recently moved to Georgia, I'm seeing more nymph rigs and indicators (I prefer the term indicator in fly fishing as they take on all kinds of shapes and forms, many of which don't remotely resemble a "bobber", though some definitely are.) I personally prefer a dry dropper rig.

But really I'm dismayed by Kirk's logic or lack thereof. My reading of this is of a personal gripe that has gotten out of hand- a couple of people were rude to him on a stream, or there's a couple of rude guides he has run into a few times.

I understand. It happens to us all. Bobber fishing isn't everyone's cup of tea. But where does it end? Do we need Tenkara only water? Streamer free stretches of river? Spey designated water? Bamboo only? At what point do we just need to get along?

Every fishing method requires different skills; they also influence and affect fish differently. Fish rising to dry flies always seem to be the spookiest, but you can often nymph after surface feeding fish have been put down and still catch fish. Swimming a streamer through a hole always seems to agitate every fish in it even if they don't strike- good luck getting anything to hit after you've slapped the water with a big articulated streamer a half dozen times. And you might as well just sit down for twenty minutes or more after someone rides their drift boat over your fish.

I can paint any number of scenarios for you, but a lot of it- and a lot of what Kirk is complaining about- boils down to ethics and etiquette. Treat others on the river the way you want to be treated. Give other anglers space. In the case of guides- making a living on public waters doesn't mean your clients take precedence over other legal anglers on the same water. Unfortunately the one thing that seems impossible to legislate is what we need the most out there- good manners.

Everyone one has a gripe, everyone has a pet peeve, and everyone can think of methods in fly fishing they don't like or would like to see restricted. Chuck n Duck, Tenkara, articulated streamers, indicators, Czech nymphing, egg flies. Calling Great Lakes fish "steelhead". I'm sure there's more.

From a practical standpoint, where does it begin, and where does it end? I'm talking about the process of enacting such regulations. I can't speak for other states, but in Michigan it's difficult enough just to get water designated flies only, and often only after long and deeply divisive battles in the greater angling community. Some communities still bear those scars. Go to fisheries managers with a silly sounding request like banning bobbers and they'll laugh you out of their office. But worse, it trivializes the issues and divides an already small demographic that struggles enough to get fly designated water. As much as I love the outdoor community, we can be a contentious bunch. At what point do fisheries managers just throw up their hands in disgust and stop listening altogether? In a world of ever increasing and bewildering regulations, who wants try to parse out the "bobber free" water out of an already daunting regulation booklet?

In Kirk Deeter's world the gripe is bobbers. In Michigan it's probably chuck n duck. I've heard rumblings elsewhere about spey anglers (and vice versa). Almost everyone seems to hate centerpinners. But at a certain point we all need to step back and look at the big picture. Fly fishing has grown by leaps and bounds since the days of dry fly purism. It's going to continue to change. Some methods may indeed fall by the wayside. New methods we haven't thought of may arise.

Fly anglers have much bigger threats to their sport to fight, such as the impacts of global warming on coldwater fisheries, or the growing war on public access. If we start subdividing fly fishing into increasingly smaller turf, all of it could be lost.

Here's another take on this on the S.C.O.F. blog. Check it out.

Monday Morning Coffee- November 2, 2015

Yaaaaauuuuchhhppphhhhtttt!!~! Yawn, stretch, scratch, repeat- it's Monday, and it's been awhile, so let's have some coffee shall we?

This Monday finds me in north Georgia, staring out the windows as the rain pours down. It was indeed a rainy night in Georgia (cue the music). I've been kind of quiet about this, but Georgia is my new home- hey, love will make you do crazy things. I still have a place in Michigan, and I plan to get back there on a regular basis, but I see this as a way to get out and expand my horizons, fish some new water, even dabble in the salt a bit. I've already started.

It has been difficult to know what to do with this blog, as I have seen it as fundamentally linked to fishing in northern Michigan, but I've also shared my adventures with you in Canada, Colorado and beyond. It was never meant to be about one place, but about a love of water and fish. The great thing about fly fishing is that there are no limits- it can embrace any species in any waters, using dozens of methods and a variety of gear. You're only limited by your imagination. So I'll do what I can to get back on this horse, expand its horizons and take you along.

a preview from the salt

I do need to give a shout-out to Louis Cahill of Gink and Gasoline, who has welcomed me here like a brother, taken me out fishing a few times, and tried to download all of his knowledge of North Georgia trout fishing, the good, the bad, the ugly. Thankfully there's plenty of good, and I'm enjoying it immensely. Louis and I have embarked on a quest to dial in the urban carp fishing around here, including one decidedly unsuccessful outing (due to high winds), one of those trips that comforts you in the knowledge that even a guy like Louis has bad days occasionally.

Louis in action

To my brothers in the Mitten State- it will be your job to be the local guide now when I come to visit. Thanks for all the good times, and here's to many more. Come visit me when the snow is neck deep and we'll go catch trout on dries in January. I'm going to have a permanent X on my calendar in the middle of June, when the bugs are hatching, the trout are looking up, and the carp and smallmouth are on the flats.

As long as we're here I may as well share that I did get out last week and did some streamer fishing on a local stream Louis had shared with me. Every trout stream here is a beautiful mountain stream with all that that entails- waterfalls, plunge pools, rhododendron on the slopes. I chose to toss streamers due to the time of year, and I wasn't disappointed. For some reason it took the better part of the day for the fish to get interested, but once they did the action was pretty steady.

some north Georgia color

I had a lot of close calls, and a few small fish when I worked my way down to a local dude tossing worms at a palomino trout. He was friendly and garrulous, and no sooner had we parted ways and I found a particularly good looking run, with a seam of dark water on the far bank. On about my fourth cast my fly stopped and then the water exploded as a five pound rainbow took off upstream. After a brief but hard fought battle I slid him onto the sand, removed the hook and took a couple quick photos before sending on his way.

gorgeous spots on this one

I could argue the merits of fishing in Michigan versus Georgia until we're all sick of it, but it's hard to argue with a fish like that. My coffee is finished, and it's time to find a job. Let's get after it.

Monday Morning Coffee- June 29 2015

Yyyuuuurrrggghhh!! Yawn stretch scratch repeat- it's Monday and it's been quite awhile since I've done this, so let's have some coffee. 

Well it's the end of June and we are at the very peak of the fly fishing season. The hex hatch is in full swing on Michigan rivers and it seems like everyone is getting big fish. I'm seeing a lot of 24"+ brown trout on my social media. I got a 20" rainbow last weekend on the hex but didn't get a good picture. 

Bad shot of good fish

Everything is good right now- the top water bite for bluegills is on, bass are red hot, and the water is still cool and so the pike are biting like crazy. There's steelhead and Atlantics up at the Sault if you can make it up there. The daytime brook trout fishing is outstanding. All in all this has turned into another banner year for fly fishing. 

Yesterday I wrapped up some necessary chores, loaded up my kayak and hit the flats for carp. There was a hard southwest wind and so I paddled the north shore all the way out to Waugoshaunce Island. The roar of the surf on the south shore was deafening. 

Flats selfie

A pattern quickly emerged- everywhere there was a point, carp were stacked up, especially if there was warm water pushing past. I paused at the first point I reached and poked one fish unsuccessfully but left the water for some wading anglers and moved on. The rest of the day it was just me and the eagles. 

View from the cockpit

I found a rather spooky school of carp near another point well past the cut, but after some work I managed to stick one that took me well into my backing. Unfortunately he mucked around and blew the whole school out. 

First carp

I paddled all the way out to the far island and found a happy school of fish at another point. These fish were on a feeding frenzy. They would gang up like cows in a pasture, and all I had to do was keep a fly in front of them. I hooked up 8 times in an hour and landed five more fish. A couple of them had me sweating my Albright knot. I had a ridiculous amount of backing out and my expensive flats line was far out to sea. This happened a lot yesterday. 

Biggun on a hammerhead

Despite spending most of my time paddling I ended up landing 6 carp on 10 hookups and missed a few more bites- a stellar day in my book. Couple that with the beauty of the place, the eagles and seabirds, and the gorgeous sunset on my paddle out and it added up to my best day of the summer- so far. 

Well- I'm out of coffee and it's time for work. Let's get after it!

Monday Morning/Afternoon/Evening Coffee- March 2, 2015

Hhharrccchhhttt! Yawn, stretch, scratch, repeat- it's Monday, let's have some coffee.

Who am I fooling? I started this post this morning and then got busy as shown by the following productivity chart.

Anywho, it turned into a gorgeous day here in northeast Georgia- 71 degrees, sunny and pleasant. I even snuck in an hour long run. Wherever you may be, freezing your ass off, scraping your windows, shoveling that snow or stoking the fire. . . I'm not. You have my pity.

run run run

I'll keep it pretty brief today. It is March finally, which means that even if it doesn't feel like Spring yet, cracks are definitely starting to appear in the edifice of Winter. The days are longer. Daylight Savings Time ends next Sunday. The sap in the maple trees back home should be flowing soon, and the steelhead to follow.

One thing that the protracted cold followed by the onset of spring is going to do is kick off the steelhead run in a big way, so be ready. Rivers like the Pere Marquette and many others have been locked up tight by ice for quite some time. The fish have been there all along, but with no pressure they should be ready to brawl and so should you.

are you ready?

I did get out and poke around the Chattahoochee River last Friday, but between archaic rules, and the generation schedule I didn't get much time on the river, and I never did figure out what was going on. There were fish rising to midges everywhere, but my usual offerings that I use in these situations went ignored.

Sunday I followed up on a hot tip from Louis Cahill (of Gink & Gasoline) and drove up into the mountains with my girlfriend in search of a stream. That miserable map application on my phone tried to kill us both. We drove higher and higher into the mountains until it led us off onto a gravel road- a road which quickly turned to wet red clay. We had sloppy winter weather last week, which translated into 6 inches of snow in the mountains, snow which had not melted in the interim. The result was wet red clay roads covered in slush.

We made it an impressive several miles in in my little car, before a steeply banked turn slid us off into the ditch. Fortunately the road was banked away from the side of the mountain, and fortunately with a little throttle work I was able to slide my  car down and backward across the muck and out of the ditch.

From there  we made our way back out to the main road, did some reconnoitering and found the stream. It was gorgeous, though my pictures do it no justice. I'm trying to figure out a plan to go back.

I have to go back to Michigan soon to take care of business. I don't know exactly what the summer holds, but neither do you. I'd call that a level playing field.

Well, my coffee was done 10 hours ago. I hope you had a pleasant Monday. Keep dreaming of warmer weather. It's just around the corner.

Let's get after it.