DOWN TIME

                                                       

                                 I know its coming.The days getting shorter. And nights getting cooler. Mr.north wind becoming more consistant. He lets us know that a change is lurking. Year after year, it preps us for winters furry. Just a glimpse I suppose. But it's enough to set the mood. 

                                                        

                                                     

Before the run begin's, I always find myself visiting the harbors and taking sunset walks along the beach. The swing of the season draws me to these familiar places every year. Ironically, we meet at the same place, same time every year. Like clock work. 

Through the summer I visit old haunts like most.  

But it just isn't the same. 

CHESS IN THE RIVER

                                             
                                                                                       
                                                                      

                                                                          
                                   And their it was. An hour later, down 71 I had reached

my favorite stream. The anticipation of the drive can be a little overwhelming. But it's a very familiar one with a lot of good memories. I have plenty of time on this drive to map out every move I will be making. Which color of that pattern, in this water. If the water temp. drops 2 more degrees, ill use this. If the sun goes away for more than a half hour, the hatch is this!                                                                                                                                                                  
                                                                                          
The suspect I was paying a visit to has become an old foe. He doesn't give his secrets up very well. And he has shattered my hopes and dreams on more than one occasion. 
      Like a Boxer he knows his strengths and weaknesses. He precisely jukes, weaves and goes back to his stance. Or in this case his "zone".  To beat the best, you have to be the best they say. Some occasions your lucky and you have a good day. But you are in his environment. What we can't see is what reels me in. What could I do in every or any given circumstance. What you can't see  below the cool stream surface and your instincts against his is the name of the game. I like to call it "River Chess." It sounds insane and lame. Really, I don't care what others think. I do what I feel is the right move on the water. My own little world. And during this time, my time, is all that matters. I feel this holds true to almost every fly fisherman. And that's why we keep coming back. Every circumstance is different at any given time.                                                                                                                               

                                                                      

        The Clear Fork Brown Trout is a mystery to many. Their have been fish less trips. 6 to 8 hours worth at a time. The Brown being a bastard as we know at times can be as crotchety and grumpy as an old man. Finicky as a scorned ex wife and intelligent as an honor student. This is why I prefer to fish the Brown over any game fish in existence.  The Clear Fork Brown especially. They have been stocked since 1996 by ODNR. Prior to that was the same method{almost} as the apple creek route. Clubs new it could work, and ODNR dragged their feet for years as usual. Rainbows were the bill of fare prior with some Brownies, but predominately 'bows back then. I believe it it were still Rainbows being stocked now in numbers by the State, they would reproduce. Easily. The problem I believe and this is only my theory would be the fact that Rainbows are way to eager to lunge with reckless abandonment thus, dissipate. Not much in the way of "Chess" for the rainbow. It would be their demise. The habitat is of mostly cobble for a bottom, with very little shale. The tailouts are of spring creek pebble and the rifles are of the same sized pea-gravel. Pools are of 3-7 feet in the upper Clear Fork,deeper in the lower section. As far as holdover Browns, which are of way less tolerant than the popular McCloud strain of Rainbow that we see in resident dwelling 'bows the numbers are good. The state stocks 6"-9"

 fingerling's every October. They are at various points through out the stream. Catching them, is of another order.
  As time and methods have past new ideas erupt. but the result is always similar on this stream. Typically, bigger streamers are the method of choice for most Bruiser Browns. Here, theirs no pattern. It's random for no reason. And with a gin clear stream, stealth is all you have.  The hardy Brown is not forgiving here. At times one would wonder if the heat of summer have killed off the fish. But the Clear Fork has a few suprises and tricks of it's own. And the sizable Browns if you can find them to prove it. Under ground cold springs that shoot out gallons of cold, sterile water keep this river cool in most locations year round. in certain sections their are more springs than others and in that warmer water if you find those springs you will find the Brown.   

  

      Their are many spring creeks as well that filter in the Clear Fork. None of which are of any real size. One notable, the rest the size of a sidewalk. But that's up to you to do the leg work. Most of this stream stays cool regardless of the springs. It's almost sterile . In fact until agriculture became big with fertilizers, the stream was so clean it was almost dormit of aquatic insects. And the Browns in this stream have a buffet of choice thanks to that.

                                                                                                           

This stream hides it's treasures very well unlike some places as pictured above. Although these Rainbows pictured are native, this particular stream was like fishing in a barrel. Which would u prefer?  It's funny fishing somewhere where you know people don't fish much because they gave up. Theirs a lot of lazy people out their and it seems like convenience is the normal anymore. which to me explains a lot of this countries problems. 
  The Clear Fork Brown has schooled me.  It taught me a lot. Patience turned into thinking clearer .From their it taught me how to manage every day problems that I can't control.                           

                                                                                  

       

SUMMERS JOURNEY

                                                                                    

                                                              

                                                            Driving west on 90 towards
  Detroit I realize only then that "Yes, their is other places in the world that are more polluted. It's not so bad. Really?  As I hit Toledo I remember telling myself,"ya, the casino even looks like hell." That's OK two tickets to the keys will fix that. Islamorada or bust. It was my honeymoon/vacation and i told her i really didn't want to make this trip about fishing."Look honey,I didn't even pack my fly rod." Already, my marriage was starting off in sin. And I didn't even feel bad. Not a pulse of remorse. What an a'hole.
   All week i had been tying crazy charlie's and crab patterns. I went as far as contacting a friend who knows legendary Sandy Morets son.{one of the 2} Who just so happens to live in Chagrin Falls. Raised in  Islamorada. On a worse note, the first morning sunrise I went for a sunrise walk on the beach and saw a smattering of rises which I'm assuming were bonefish or red's. Then, the adrenaline ran through me like a freight train. I'd had enough. In an attempt to get some advice, more so to make me feel a little better for what I was about to do. I phoned a friend with this sort of experience.  

                                                                                                                
This particular person has talked to me on several occasions about "Just doing the things a man has to do to keep her happy." Like going to Amish  Country to look at quilts and really amazing furniture. EXTC.,. He has gone through great hardships like most men have to go through and has gave it a phrase. The phrase is "The walk of Shame."   So you can understand why I would call such a person. This phrase has more than meaning. And has become quit legendary. If Bryan Adams were still doing the Bud Light "Real men of Genius" commercials, Ken would be that guy Bryan Adams would be saluting. Thanks Ken. I feel a lot better now.                                                [ pictured above, the walk of shame]
                 
 
                                     He had said exactly what I already learned weeks earlier. So I knew my thinking was on the right path. "Just try to rent a fly rod." So with a strategic plan, kinda, I drove down to the fly shop owned by Sandy Moret. That's weird? Look honey, a tropical fly shop. My inconsiderate agenda worked. 

              

                                                     And so, another journey began.     

                                                                                                              
  It was not long after the stalking began. Like Steelhead, the same methodical approaches are needed. And I couldn't believe the similarity .   

 

 

                                                                     
                                                                             

   

          The lessons I learned here where, none at all. I really do love my wife. Thats a fact.
                                                            But I guess boys will be boys.

SPRINGS END

                                                   

 

Ya, I guess it's over.

But don't look now. Here comes another torrential rain event, with

a cold front behind it. But is that all the fish we have? Is the tank dry?

Midwest Fly Fishing Magazine had a nice piece and interview with a

Biologist from the Great Lakes Region. No names please. But the person

had reported to the article that Pennsylvania stocks well deep into

almost the headwaters of their streams, with a 98% return rate.Marked

and tagged for proof.  We (Ohio) stock in the marinas, or within a quarter

mile. Are return rate....50% of those fish were of Ohio strain use.

So is are 50% here and almost done? I guess we'll find out.

 

(PIC. AND FISH-KEN KLINGER) 

HERE

 

 

GONE.

 

But until September, theirs a lot to look forward to.

 

 

The cool and transparent waters of the Clear Fork.

 

 

And of course the YOUGH.

 

Ya, I know Fall means a day closer to winter, But nothing beats

Another Buckeye ass whipping on Saturdays and a fresh run of

STEEL.

THANKS APRIL,THE STEEL OF SPRING

                                                                  

            Spring, to most being a sign of new life. A new beginning.Warmer temps, sun. To a Steelheader,complete opposite. A sign of death. The beginning of the end for what was another year complete of chasing chrome.    

            And just when it gets warm, old man winter hits ya with a burst of reality.

 Just like that, the whole scenario goes in your favor unexpectedly. I was just hanging up the fly rod and hand washing the waders when I heard on the radio a mass cold is expected to hit starting Thursday, with potential localized flooding. As quickly as my ears heard the news, I started to re-arrange  everything I just accomplished . And I couldn't have been happier .   





    So my friend had gone out east that Monday to fish because of higher water and a way better push of fish and it really payed off. The picture of the massive spawning colored male at the top was just one of the several they caught that day.   

                           

                    Bob and Ken and experienced much of the same as a friend and I had experienced the day prior.        

  Timing is prime right now. And with a not so great spring run last year thanks to mother nature, it's really a sigh of relief. 

Coming home that day seeing the blue skies and feeling the warm temps instantly i got in the "yard work" mood. Instant transition. Bitter sweet I guess.









                              

Not ten minutes in the door, I get a text from my wife who's already enjoying the weather...18 hours away. And as she's telling me how nice it was all I could do was think about the seasons end. Which is not far away. Ya, Florida's alright. I could be a beach bum. For sure. Flip flops and cargo shorts almost year round. But then what? What else do you have? There's really no changes? Right? I mean, doesn't that get old? Am I an idiot? I guess that's for you to decide. Then again I live in an area that's not changed or hardly adapted to any new type of culture. Let's face it. To the west they call it "slow-hio".
      Growing up in an ethnic family who speaks  foreign still and going to church at a young age when the pastor hymns more than he talks like a bad opera isn't exactly "new age".
 Watching your father and grandpa work most of their lives away because that's what they feel is necessary and completely normal is about as blue collar as it gets. Example:
     My Mother's Father was just 88 i believe when he found out he has a aggressive form of cancer. That's it. No turning back, lights are dimming. What would you do? What would you be doing at 88? Is he enjoying the last of his days on this shitty planet? nope., He's still running his music store on Memphis and Ridge in Old Brooklyn. And every Tribe home game he's walking around the stadium playing in his 3 pc. Polka band until the 8th inning.
  My Father, offered a mngmt position. Nope. He would rather still be working with his crusty old hands in his trade. WHY? It's repetition. It's all they know. It's what we do in the Great Lakes. The rust belt.
  And sadly, I become what I hate. It's all I know as well. I graduated, got a trade and the rest was history.          

                                                  

                                         
                                               But i wouldn't change it for the world. 


                                          

                  
                      

MARCH MADNESS

                                                 

                                                 

       This was Lake Erie just two whole,long cold, enjoyable weeks ago. But under that desert of ice I knew changes were starting to take place. As days start getting longer a glimmer of hope sparks inside of me. This same day, I also saw my first cardinal and robin of the year. Nothing to get excited about, but it felt good knowing this crap was almost over. I realize this picture doesn't look like "hope". But for us Great Lakers, it was an emotional victory. Bitter sweet I guess. 

                        This transitional time of the year really makes me and as I found out others very insecure at times as far as fishing goes. As far as locating fish, they could be anywhere dependant on 2 degrees in the river system. They could be in the lower or upper stretches. A fresh push might be staled by a significant cold front,and not push but only a mile or so. And at times with rain...sometimes less trickles in then other  waves. But that's what keeps me gambling. I honestly for the first time in my life placed a bet on my NCAA bracket. I never have gambled a day in my life. Ever. I have never even bought a 1 dollar  scratch off ticket. No lottery, charity events or mega millions. I guess you could make the case  every time I fish, I gamble. Which is my addiction so i guess I have a gambling problem.
      
       A week and a half ago I went to 5 or so different streams in about 3 days. And all I kept wondering is "am I doing something wrong" Skunked 2 days in a row.  
 Ya, say it ain't so . The Rocky  left me with nothing but a peice of mind. Again. I threw every damn style of patterns I had. Nothing. Then later that day I hear egg chuckers did awesome on the V and the chagrin. Awesome. So guess what I did? 


But before that story begins I have to tell you what happened after I left the Rocky....
   

        



So their are some small tribs on my way home that sometimes I hit to take my frustrations out on . Most of the people that fish these I noticed are horrible with a fly rod. and act like they've just overtaken the Skeena , because they have caught fish here. This creek gets a good run of fish and a lot have been nat. reproduced . {when u catch smolts, u know theirs reproduction.cant argue that} These are the type that dont know you, and tell you whats going on in are rivers. And know everything about these fish. For instance, a man told me he had a guide service. Brand new company and that he was a fisheries biologist . This guy clearly was an amazing fisherman. After he just got skunked ,I left him and walked his path of water. Real skinny water. 
I manged to catch 3 fish from that same water. Peeking out of the corner of my eye I saw he was watching.

      So, needless to say, I hate a bullshiter. And more importantly, this is why I made this blog. Luckily for me, I have a lot of caring people around me who have taught me a lot. And humble is a good virtue.
  At any rate, the 3 I did catch looked like a battleship from W.W.2 those poor fish had more steel in their back than Terminator. Urban fish.

                                             

 

    I have fished everything around, but for some reason never the Chagrin. 6 fish in 4 hours is a good day. Thats pretty rare for a steelheader in early march ON A FLY . The Ash is an exception. And so are a few others .   









                                                  

 

 

 

 

Yep once again the steelie blue bugger got em. Its amazing the caliber of fly fishers on this river.

 

  Almost all of her tribs run cold. And the runs are twice of my beloved headwaters of the rocky. This stream holds up to it's legend, and the water is perfect for the fly angler. 

 The amount of people on this stream are about as slim as it gets for northeast Ohio.

 

 

 

 

And as I posted before, the cool running East Branch is a site worth checking as well if you never have been their.It really has a unique feel and the quality of people and ettiquete on this stream is great.