Fishing the Mid Atlantic region and beyond for all manner of salt and fresh water species. We cover the lower Chesapeake Bay aboard the "Mikey D Fishing" in search of stripers, redfish, speckled trout, flounder, cobia and chase trout across the classic freestone and limestone streams of Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, and Virginia.
While air temps have cooled quite a bit over the last couple of weeks, the lack of rain has reduced many of Potter County's trout streams, especially the small Class As, to trickles. Targeting trout bunched up in pools or by spring seeps isn't particularly appealing. Fortunately, there is another game fish in the county that thrives in warmer temps.
I've been in Potter County almost 4 years, and had yet to fish for Smallmouth Bass. The species is prevalent in almost all PA warm water streams, including many trout streams that get warm over the summer. So, with the fishing bug not close to being quelled, the "Trout Whisperer" and I decided to do some exploring for "Bronzebacks."
Bob did some research and determined that our best bet would be on the Driftwood Branch of Sinnemahoning Creek. We headed south about 25 miles to the town of Emporium, then a bit further south begin our search for fishable water. First stop was the village of Sterling, about 11 miles south of Emporium. Bob's research indicated that from Sterling down the Driftwood Branch was good bass water, and there was easy access to the stream. But, even big water like the Driftwood wasn't immune from the effects of near-drought conditions.
Were it earlier in the summer, it would have been difficult finding fish in the big water, at least without a canoe or raft. Fortunately, with the water levels so low, we were able to find a pretty large and deep pool just "upstream" of where we parked, and it looked fishy.
We started fishing around 10:00 am or so. Not the best time to be fishing for bass, as they tend to head for cover when the sun starts rising. But it was exploring and, hopefully some catching.
Bob's research paid off. We fished with various flies that we had bought at the Tackle Shack in Wellsboro a few days prior. Although the shop caters to all freshwater fishing, it has a respectable fly fishing section, include a great assortment of flies for all freshwater fish. We fished 6 wt rods, mine with a floating line, and Bob with a sinking line. Flies included baitfish imitations (Clousers, etc.) and crayfish patterns. And, even with the sun on the water, we managed a few Smallies in an hour and a half of fishing. Most of the fish that we caught went around 5-6 inches, but a few went between 10-11 inches. Not fatties by any stretch, but still capable of putting a bend on a 6 wt fly rod.
After lunch we drove south in search of other fishable spots. Just south of the village of Driftwood (where Bennett Branch and Driftwood branch converge to form Sinnemahoning Creek), we found one more nice spot near a railroad trestle.
Just downstream from the trestle and across the stream, the water looked green enough to indicate some depth. Although the rocks were a bit slippery, the low water made for easy crossing. We fished the pool for another hour or so, with Bob picking up a small bass. I think I got some hits, but no hookups. By 1:30 or so temps had reached the mid-80s and the sun was high, so we called the expedition a success and headed back to God's Country. Bassin' in general, and fishing for Smallies in particular, is best done in the early morning and late afternoon, when the sun is off the water and the fish venture out to feed. A decent alternative, as any fish on the end of a line is a good fish!
Sure, it was a long drive home without fish in the box. But as the video retrospective illustrates, a 37" cobia on the end of the line is a fun fight at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay!
With an interim stop in "God's Country," it's about 2638 miles from Whitefish, Montana to Cape Charles, Va. Mary and I arrived home early Friday morning from our Big Sky trip, which gave me enough time to do some laundry, cut the grass, pack, and then head to Annapolis to pick up Captain DiPaola. From Annapolis we lit out for Cape Charles and our fourth Cobia outing with Captain Kenny Louderback, owner of Fish Freaks Guide Service (https://www.facebook.com/fishfreaks2014/).
Athletes, pilots, and anglers are all creatures of superstition, and one of the most important factors for success across all three is routine. You figure out what works and never, never, deviate. So, by year three we had a solid routine that had by the end of our previous outings had resulted in Cobia in the box. And this year we stuck to the plan. Stop at a seafood restaurant on the way down for lunch. Accommodations at the Hotel Cape Charles. Drinks at the Cape Charles Distillery, followed by dinner at the Shanty Seafood Restaurant, followed by bourbon and cigars at Kelly's Gingernut Pub. Breakfast at Stingrays before meeting up with Kenny and putting fish in the cooler.
The weather for Monday portended good fishing. Highs in the upper 80s, with clear skies, light winds and relatively calm seas. Perfect for sighting-casting to Cobia. So we met up with Captain Kenny at the Cape Charles marina, and got underway around 8:45 in the morning.
While the fish were a few weeks away from schooling up in the lower bay, Kenny noted that enough fish had moved in from their spawning grounds in the northern bay reaches, and the fishing had been good, including a good number of keepers. So we were psyched to continue our string of success. Kenny's target area was just off Cape Charles, a few miles north of the bay-bridge tunnel. Just outside the marina, he noticed a pretty wide band of red tide. A bit concerning, as Kenny thought it might have pushed the fish further north, but he pushed through the oxygen-depleted water and into the search area.
As with our previous outings, in late summer Cobia come to the surface when the water warms. So the only real way you're going to spot them is from a tower.
Once spotted, the captain casts a live eel on a circle hook in front of the fish. The eel's movement gets the fish's attention, which quickly moves on the tasty meal. Once the fish eats, the captain sets the hook and hands down the rod to the angler, who fights the fish to the boat.
We arrived to the search area a bit early; on previous days the Cobia had not started surfacing until late morning, with the 12:30-2:30 pm period being the most active for sightings. And Kenny was not far off. We spotted our first keeper Cobia a little after 11:00. Kenny got a great shot out to the fish, which quickly moved on the eel. He got a hook set, but before I could get my hands on the rod the fish broke off.
Now, there are three factors that no angler or guide can control. The first is the weather. A forecast is simply that, and no guarantee. The second, and especially important when targeting a particular species, is the presence of said fish. The last factor, which is again particular to saltwater fish, is whether they are on the bite.
Karma and superstition are the only forces that can govern all three. And, for the first time in four years, both let us down. The weather did not proceed as forecast. Calm seas and light winds turned to 15 knot winds and 2-3 foot seas during prime time and through the afternoon. The fish were there; we saw over two dozen fish from 11:00 to 3:30 or so. Maybe not in the numbers as we would have seen later in August, but enough keepers to more than get out limit of three.
Which brings us to the last factor. The bite was definitely not on. You put a live bait in front of a fish and it ought to eat. Not this day, though. Maybe it was the choppy seas, maybe the fish don't eat on Mondays. Who the hell knows. Kenny worked his ass off, and we helped as much as we could spotting fish. But the best we could do was bring a 36 incher and a 24 incher to the boat, both too short for the box. Were we in Florida, the 36 incher would have been cause for celebration and fillets on the table. Off Cape Charles, while offering a nice fight, it was nothing but a throwback.
You will find a no more determined captain than Kenny Louderback. He was prepared to stay out there as long as it took. "Just a few more runs." But we had a 3.5 hour drive back to Annapolis, so around 3:30 we bagged it for the day. We hadn't been skunked, and it's always a great day to be on the water with Kenny. But at the same time there was a palpable sense of disappointment among all three of us.
Consequently, the drive back to Annapolis was quiet, interspersed with brief perspectives of what happened. To add insult to injury, the Bojangles we stopped at had no ice; the machine had broken. You don't realize how important cold ice tea is to Bojangles chicken and biscuits until you have to choke them down with warm brew. You'd think that someone would have run next door to the Wal Mart and picked up a few bags of ice. Whatever.
We returned to a humid Annapolis a few hours later. Over bourbon and cigars we began to piece the trip together to see where things had gone wrong. Was it the slow service at the Portside Seafood Restaurant in Cambridge? (Although the crab cake club sandwich was excellent!) The slow check in at the Hotel Cape Charles? The excessive wait at the Cape Charles Distillery? The screwed up breakfast order at Stingrays? The red tide? At the end, we could only conclude that we were following through on something akin to the five stages of fishing grief, which in context amounts to nothing more than a first-world problem. The only viable solution to reach acceptance is to look to next August and another opportunity to fish with Captain Kenny.
Until then, I've decided to go with haiku therapy:
The cooler's empty
Cobia refused our eels
Tilapia sucks
Tight Lines, eventually...
Mikey D Fishing
Note: Striper moratorium on all Maryland waters begins on 16 August and lasts to the end of the month. No targeting of Stripers permitted, not even C&R.
While we did not get high numbers of fish, we caught good-sized fish on the walk/wade outing. The next two days were slated for floating upper and lower sections of the south fork. Although the same river, the sections had their own character when it came to the Cutties. Hill figured that we see larger fish on the lower section, but perhaps not the numbers that we'd see floating the upper section. So combined, it looked like two great days of fishing. And once again Hill was spot on.
We launched from the SBR at a leisurely 9:30, and floated for about 8 hours. Once again, the scenery was unbelievable, and the water as clear (even in holes that went deeper than 50-60 feet) as the creek the day before.
We used the same tandem flies as before. Casting was not too difficult; we rarely had to make a cast longer than 15 feet. The drift rafts proved very comfortable than the drift boats that we fished from on an earlier Montana trip. We fished deeper runs along the banks, and long pools. I suppose Hill was right and wrong. We did not catch numbers compared to the float on the upper section. But a 30-plus fish day ain't that bad, particularly when we caught a good number of fish that went bigger than 15 inches, including three doubles
.
There were two highlights from this float. The first was during our third double for the day. Mary and I were fighting trout, when all of a sudden one of our trout jumped and kind of skittered on top of the water. Hill noted that Cutthroat weren't normally jumpers. but when we saw a large gray shape broach the creek we knew what was going on. A Bull Trout that Hill estimated went at least 26 inches was sharking our fish. We got both fish to the boat, saving them from an untimely death.
The second highlight was at the end of the float. Casting against a rock ledge, I missed a nice fish, but on the second or third cast the trout gave in and took the fly. You could tell by the fight that this was a good fish. At one point it made a run for the boat, and I had to swivel myself from one side to the other to keep the fish on. But I finally tired the Cuttie out, and he/she went a good 18-19 inches, and as thick as a football.
The second float went as Hill had predicted. Mary decided to chill at the lodge, so I was primed to get some numbers, and also break out the Tenkara if the opportunity presented itself. During the first half of the float we netter 30 fish, mostly "SNIT"s" (Standard Nine Inch Trout), but a few 12 inchers thrown in for good measure. After lunch we decided to give the Tenkara a try. It was far more challenging fishing the rod from a raft. First, you're only able to cast out about 12 feet or so. The second challenge is getting the fish to the boat. Since standing was not in the picture, I had to really lean the rod back to get the fish close enough for Hill to net. The smaller fish were relatively easy. The few fish that went over 12 inches (including a 15 incher that I caught on an actual Tenkara fly), proved a lot more challenging.
There was a third challenge to fishing a Tenkara from a boat that I discovered the hard way. We were fishing a pretty productive and deep run, but it was getting late. I had my flies in the water, and looked away at my watch, only to hear Hill yell SET!!! I reflexively set the rod, and caught sight of a huge fish heading deep. There wasn't enough time for Hill to maneuver the raft to keep up with the fish, and I was slow to try to get the fish turned, even if I could have. Unlike fishing creeks, in a big river big fish have places to go. And when you only have 13-14 feet of line and tippet, if the fish wants to go, you're gonna lose the fly.
At the end of the float we had netted 45 trout; not a bad day in anyone's book. Once again Hill was phenomenal. He knew where the fish were, skillfully put us in the right positions, and put up with our occasional tangles and misses. It sounds cliche, but we felt like we were fishing with a friend, which made our stay at the Spotted Bear Ranch a trip to remember.
Pro tip: the Flathead River is the only place in the lower 48 where you have the chance to tie into multiple Bull Trout. The fishing begins after the run off, when the river gets about 2-3 feet of clarity. Although difficult to pinpoint, the fishing usually picks up after July 4th. Fishing is with 8 wt rods tossing big streamers. Unfortunately, the Cuttie fishing doesn't get good until the water clears and levels drop, around mid to late July.
It was an act of frustration and impulse. Having been "Corona'd" out of an April Redfish trip to Louisiana, I scoured web sites for an opportunity to find a state where there were fish to be caught and not hindered by bureaucrats who obviously don't fish. I found it in Montana, and Mary and I lit out for Big Sky country to fish in the Flathead National Forest.
Over the course of a week we spent a couple of days in Whitefish, four days at the Spotted Bear Ranch, and over-nighted in Kalispell before flying home. The draw of the area is Glacier National Park. Whitefish and Kalispell, towns respectively north and south of Glacier International Airport, are excellent spots to hang out, enjoy some great food, craft beers, and tour the area.
While I'm not much of a scenery guy, the drive through Glacier National Park was pretty damn impressive. The main draw is the Going-to-the-Sun Road, a 50 mile, two-lane, narrow and twisting road that was built between 1921 and 1932. The road crosses through the middle of the park, the highest point about half way at Logan Pass, about 6600 feet. Driving along the road kind of felt like being on a road in Afghanistan; straight up on one side, straight down on the other, and not a lot of room in between. But it's paved, and there's no bad guys trying to kill you, with the exception of a driver not paying attention.
A second reason to tool around the park is to see some wildlife. Unfortunately, our only encounters were a Mountain Goat and a Marmot. (The Marmot looked like a western version of a ground hog, not particularly blog-worthy)
With the tourist portion of the trip over, it was time to head to Spotted Bear Ranch, our fishing destination for the next few days. The lodge is located about 55 miles inside the Flathead National Forest, just south of where the south fork of the Flathead River empties into Hungry Horse Reservoir. From Whitefish it took us 2.5 hours to traverse the 70 miles to the lodge, most of the drive on windy and gravely roads that followed the reservoir, albeit a few feet above....
We got to the lodge a little after 1:00 PM on Saturday, checked into our cabin, and got our gear together. The layout is pretty simple; a handful of cabins next to a main lodge, where meals are served as well as a daily happy hour after we returned from fishing.
As an Orvis-endorsed lodge, you can expect the meals to be first rate. And SBR did not disappoint. There was plenty of craft beer and wine during happy hour, and feasts that included, trout, rib eye steaks, shrimp and grits, and duck on our last day. There were, however, a couple of aspects of the place that I didn't fully appreciate when I booked the stay. The first was that, while the owner was renovating the cabins, ours looked like it was the last on the list. A bit more rustic than I anticipated.
Hard to pick up sarcasm in a photo. but you get the idea. The other interesting aspect is that lodge is generator powered. At around 10:00 PM the generator shut down, and the place went DARK! Not really a biggie, because after a long day fishing, beer and wine, amazing dinners, and then bourbon on the deck of our cabin, we were out well before the lights.
But fishing was the reason I booked the trip, and as I said at the beginning, it was epic. We walked/waded a tributary to the south fork one day, and for the next two days floated different sections of the Flathead. All of the outings were spectacular in their own way. The walk/wade was a pretty decent hike for about a mile or so and a thousand feet descent to get to Spotted Bear Creek. Picking and eating wild Huckleberries was a good distraction from the beating that my ankle was taking. As we headed down the trail, though, is wasn't long before we discovered that we weren't alone. Fresh bear scat along the trail was the first indicator. The second was when our guide, Hill Kirkland, a twenty-something from Alabama, noticed some crashing sounds in the woods below us. While had hoped to see a bear, the preferred venue was from a vehicle, and not on a trail in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately, the bear had other things to do, and we never got a look.
We finally made it down to the creek. Over the next several hours, we hit three separate pools, with a good deal of hiking in between. The creek was glacier fed and crystal clear, and looked a lot like the streams we had fished in Alaska. But the stream bed was also fairly slick. Fortunately, the lodge had felt-soled boots in our size, otherwise we would have been slipping and sliding the whole day in our rubber-soled boots.
We were targeting Cutthroats, native to the stream, but also saw a good number of Bull Trout, a char actually, but capable of growing well beyond 30 inches, and feast on Cutties. This first run we fished was more of a warm up for the rest of the day. We fished the same tandem fly rigs the entire three days; a small hopper pattern with a dry trailer. The dry was called a Rocky Mountain Mint, kind of an Adams-looking dry with a purple body and tail. The combination proved to be killers. All we had to do was master a couple of techniques.
The first was casting so the two flies didn't get tangled up.
Pro tip - wait a little longer on the transition between back cast and forward, and give a little more oomph on the forward cast.
The second was the set. These fish weren't like our PA trout attacking a dry fly. Oh, these fish want to eat really bad. The bug season is so short that the fish have to eat whatever comes their way. But it's their approach to the fly that throws you off, especially in crystal clear water whenyou can see the trout slowly come all the way up from the deep to the fly. The fish is no hurry, and it knows it's going to eat, so it takes its time. So the take is best described as a leisurely slurp. The problem is, at least for the untrained angler, is that the excitement of stinging a 17 inch Cuttie is so great that more often than not you set the hook before the fish has actually eaten the fly. As hard as it is, patience is key. The trout slurps, turns its nose down, then you set the hook. And the fight is on!
With the help of our guide Hill, we quickly got the cast and set down, and we transitioned from fishing to catching. We brought 12 Cutties to the net that afternoon. And, with the exception of one 12 incher, all the rest went from 15 inches up, with Mary taking honors for the day with an 18 inch fish. Despite their lethargic eating habit, once hooked these fish fight, and if you don't keep the trout from heading downstream you're done, even on 4X.
For me, the highlight of the day was catching my first trout on a Tenkara, a Japanese style of fly fishing that consists of a 10 foot telescoping rod (they go longer than that), 9 feet of furled line, and 4 feet of leader. That's it ... no reel, no extra line to let a fish run, and no way to strip the fish to the net. Instead, you use the rod the bring the fish close enough by bending back your hand and letting the flex in the rod bring the fish close enough to net. It's challenging, but also a cool way to catch and land a trout!
Of course, the guide is an absolute key to success on new water. And Hill was flat out phenomenal. He had all the qualities that you'd expect in an Orvis guide: patient, low-key, an expert on the water, yet also really excited about being out fishing. Just fun to be with on the water. And the guy moved through the woods like a mountain goat, in sandals nonetheless! Ah ... youth.
It was a fabulous day, and even back in our rustic cabin we were looking forward to floating the Flathead.
The arrival of August and the dog days of summer are usually the most confounding times to fish in the Chesapeake. Hot days, warm water, and low oxygen make keeper stripers hard to find and harder to entice. Having an opportunity to fish with Capt Felker's son, 1SG Charlie Felker and his long time army buddy Travis Holibaugh however, made tough conditions well worth the effort.
Despite my reservations about the long trip to find stripers trapped in an oxygenated pen off of Tolchester beach, the gouge coming from Anglers Fishing and Hunting had me convinced the 40 minute ride north would be productive. To make sure that I was armed for any possibility, I made sure the bait cooler and live well were filled with bloodworms, spot, soft crabs, and alewife.
The "clients" were prompt and we were underway in no time, casting off lines by 0745. As we turned the corner around Hacketts point, the telltale signs of stripers on top were all around. Luckily, we were prepared with a rod rigged with a jig and another with a top water plug. We began the dance of moving from one pod to the next avoiding birds and casting to trigger a strike. Charlie was the first to land a striper. Too small for the box, but it was still a lot of fun. Travis soon followed with his own catch after quickly mastering the top water technique of popping a surface plug.
Pro Tip: Be prepared to move quickly to new pods of rising fish. This time of year they appear quickly and descend almost as fast. Use the sonar in conjunction with your eyes to determine whether to toss jigs or top water for best results.
As mesmerizing as going from one patch of nervous water to the next chasing schoolie stripers was, the real opportunities for striper slabs lay up north, or so I thought. The weather made the journey much easier with only a light chop and cloud cover. North of Love point, the outline of the fishing fleet started to come into view. Dozens of charter boats and recreational fishing boats were anchored in 15' - 25' of water. While we were still a few miles away from the anchorage, we saw the universal sign of a fishing vessel requesting assistance as a fisherman with a party of 4 including 3 kids in a 16 foot boat waved his arms as we approached. He had a dead battery so we offered a tow and provided him the number to BoatUS.
Pro Tip #2: If you have a boat, regardless of its condition, pay the nominal annual fee to become a member of BoatUS or SeaTow. You don't want to be in extremis on a weekend day waiting hours for assistance.
Once the towing diversion was resolved, we motored to a point just north past the majority of boats. The location proved productive and for me a little frustrating. We were getting hits consistently on soft crab but for every 17" - 18" striper caught, we caught 2 flathead catfish. A couple hours of that was enough and I decided to call it a day. Heading back with the Bay Bridge in sight, my conclusion was that it was a good day even without keepers. After all, it had been too long since I had wet a line with Charlie and we did catch at least a dozen fish. Travis seemed happy enough to see fish on top and catch some 15lb catfish. My mental review of the outing was redirected when Travis optimistically asked if we could stop if we saw more fish on top. I of course counted with, "Mikey D Fishing never passes up top water opportunities!". Rolling into Whitehall Bay, I suddenly saw birds gathering and heading toward a single spot of water. I wheeled in their direction in time to see the first of several baitfish leap from the water in an effort to escape the voracious mouths of stripers. These were no schoolies! Charlie grabbed the rod with the jig and Travis casted the plug. Almost immediately, Charlie had one on. By the bend of the rod, it was clearly a nice fish. And just like that we had a 19" keeper in the box. 20 miles up the Bay and back only to catch the best fish of the day just minutes from the dock! Charlie followed with another fat 17"er that we threw back. This time of year you have to move fast because the frenzy doesn't last long. 10 minutes after it started, not a gull could be seen in Whitehall Bay. We had our keeper though and soon after, Charlie and Travis tasted victory off of the grill!
