Hi All.
Just returned from a 3-day, wet-fly fishing trip, with my Father, up to the northern edge of New York State's Adirondack mountains, centering around the towns of Malone and Chateaugay.
We fished the Salmon and Chateaugay rivers.
All fiberglass, of course:
My Dad's been making this trip almost annually since the late 60's,
and has always spoke of how great the fly fishing is.
I figured it was time to make the trip with him, to experience the larger-than-life fishing conditions he boasts about.
Well, I totally underestimated how great a time I would have.
It was pure trout heaven.
We had a blast...
home-sweet-home:
The Salmon River is *gorgeous*, and is just really nice trout water. There is a high iron content in the water,
which gives it its signature rusty hue:
view from our campsite:
my first fish of the trip, approximately 5min. after I set foot in the river. Caught on my very own tied 'Montreal':
here's my Pops, wrestling with one in the current:
a Two-fer! (we fish a 3-fly staggered dropper rig)
my best Brown of the trip:
and my best Rainbow:
On the second day, nearing dark, my Dad broke off his last section of tippet and fly #3;
so, instead of taking the time to re-build his 3-fly leader, he decided to fish just 2 flies, but put on a wooly bugger-ish fly.
He then landed a biggie, and decided that he would become a "wooly-bugger guy" for the rest of the trip. Except he only had one,
and I didn't have any. But I did have my tying equipment and material with me, so we spend Saturday afternoon, between fishing outings, ad-libbing a few patterns. Here's Dad tying up his made-up bugger:
and here's what he tied (it later caught a bunch of fish...):
I decided to learn how to palmer-wrap a hackle, with my tying mentor there with me.
(my attempts to teach myself, previously, had failed quite miserably...)
After a quick how-to demonstration, I set off to "invent" a little pattern of my own. Here's the green floss body, silver tinsel, pheasant tail tailed, grizzly soft hackle I tied (it's beat-up in this photo, after many rainbows devoured it):
then I got carried away, and did a Mallard-ish wet fly patttern. But I used a semi-heavy copper wire ribbing.
What was weird was when this fly got wet, the yellow floos body turned more of an olive-y green.
Maybe the copper reacting to the iron-water?
just a hunch. Dried out, it turned back more yellow, as in this pic:
here's a natural, that was lurking about. These Guys (or Gals?) ranged from yellow to green in coloring...
(What is it?):
fish with Cortland FR-2000:
and fish with Diamondglass:
caught a few pretty little Brookies, too:
serious Rainbow water.
I must've caught 10 in the same churning water directly below these falls:
A nice example of Adirondack architecture:
all-in-all, we had a very good time.
the weather cooperated much better than expected,
and the fish were there, in droves.
Our last day, we both creeled our limit to take home to the table:
After this trip
you can now expect to find me there, every June;
from now until the day I die.
Just returned from a 3-day, wet-fly fishing trip, with my Father, up to the northern edge of New York State's Adirondack mountains, centering around the towns of Malone and Chateaugay.
We fished the Salmon and Chateaugay rivers.
All fiberglass, of course:
- Diamondback 'Diamondglass' 8' 5wt.
- Cortland FR-2000 7'6" 5wt.
- Fenwick FF756 7'6" 6wt.
- Berkley 'Curt Gowdy' Parametric 7' 5wt.
My Dad's been making this trip almost annually since the late 60's,
and has always spoke of how great the fly fishing is.
I figured it was time to make the trip with him, to experience the larger-than-life fishing conditions he boasts about.
Well, I totally underestimated how great a time I would have.
It was pure trout heaven.
We had a blast...
home-sweet-home:
The Salmon River is *gorgeous*, and is just really nice trout water. There is a high iron content in the water,
which gives it its signature rusty hue:
view from our campsite:
my first fish of the trip, approximately 5min. after I set foot in the river. Caught on my very own tied 'Montreal':
here's my Pops, wrestling with one in the current:
a Two-fer! (we fish a 3-fly staggered dropper rig)
my best Brown of the trip:
and my best Rainbow:
On the second day, nearing dark, my Dad broke off his last section of tippet and fly #3;
so, instead of taking the time to re-build his 3-fly leader, he decided to fish just 2 flies, but put on a wooly bugger-ish fly.
He then landed a biggie, and decided that he would become a "wooly-bugger guy" for the rest of the trip. Except he only had one,
and I didn't have any. But I did have my tying equipment and material with me, so we spend Saturday afternoon, between fishing outings, ad-libbing a few patterns. Here's Dad tying up his made-up bugger:
and here's what he tied (it later caught a bunch of fish...):
I decided to learn how to palmer-wrap a hackle, with my tying mentor there with me.
(my attempts to teach myself, previously, had failed quite miserably...)
After a quick how-to demonstration, I set off to "invent" a little pattern of my own. Here's the green floss body, silver tinsel, pheasant tail tailed, grizzly soft hackle I tied (it's beat-up in this photo, after many rainbows devoured it):
then I got carried away, and did a Mallard-ish wet fly patttern. But I used a semi-heavy copper wire ribbing.
What was weird was when this fly got wet, the yellow floos body turned more of an olive-y green.
Maybe the copper reacting to the iron-water?
just a hunch. Dried out, it turned back more yellow, as in this pic:
here's a natural, that was lurking about. These Guys (or Gals?) ranged from yellow to green in coloring...
(What is it?):
fish with Cortland FR-2000:
and fish with Diamondglass:
caught a few pretty little Brookies, too:
serious Rainbow water.
I must've caught 10 in the same churning water directly below these falls:
A nice example of Adirondack architecture:
all-in-all, we had a very good time.
the weather cooperated much better than expected,
and the fish were there, in droves.
Our last day, we both creeled our limit to take home to the table:
After this trip
you can now expect to find me there, every June;
from now until the day I die.
)
Pine Ridge Campsite
