Big Flatbrook Fly Fishing Brown Trout on Wooly Bugger Streamer

I'll tell you a few interesting things pertaining to fly fishing at the end of the story. Not pointers--my son and I don't have much experience with fly rods. But I figuered something out that pertained yesterday.

Came home from work to find my Pressure Sensitive, Ronnie Laws, c.d. had arrived. Looked forward to hearing "Always There" on the ride, a tenor sax jazz piece I loved at 17 and whenever I've heard it since. Noticed that besides having an element of rock, the piece even seems to hint at disco, although that was the first time I noticed--it's jazz. Title's perfect because the sax flies along on that hyper-sane level where memory seems to be forever present--the places where we have been, and since while there we were part of the place, the places remain with us and us with them. Always There. It's like what I noticed earlier in the day Friday and posted about. The glacial stones did not seem to mark the passage of time, but the lingering of it, a presence greater than diurnal. Some readers may be familiar with the name Salvador Dali, the 20th century painter who made a great show of himself: "The only difference between me and a madman is I'm not mad," he said. "Persistence of Memory" is his best known painting. But the way it affects me by all those melting clocks is not hard, bracing, and uplifting as is this piece by Ronnie Laws. The title of Dali's piece suggests experience all too limited to the mind, however deeply altered by fluid reminiscience. "Always There" is like the physical reality Albert Einstein described, that in some sense the past remains, in fact, in existence.

We got to Newton--it's a straight, long ride on 206--and into a very severe thunderstorm. We saw one of those sign holders that make you feel indignant that a company is willing to make someone suffer such boredom and humiliation to physically hold a placard by the road, rather than employ him at something productive. At least those who wear red gorilla costumes and the like may actually have fun annoying the hell out of at least some of us who see them doing tricks roadside day after day where we have to drive by. But this guy was in shorts and a shirt and lightning had just struck 100 feet away. Rain was so torrential that my wife felt uncomfortable and we stopped and waited it out in a lot along with three other vehicles doing same. Did anyone in the comfortable building with no threat of their lives being snuffed out by a lightning strike for minimum wage even think of asking this guy to come inside where the conditions were more human? He had no rain gear on at all. No, I doubt anyone cared to even notice. Is this American capitalism? No. They say it is to keep up appearances. It isn't Maedeval feudalism, perhaps it's the death of capitalism in American feudalism--which may be much, much worse in the end than it was in Europe. Can capitalism be resussetated? I think so. But most people seem so drugged by the hypnopaedia of the hucksters trying to rob not just wallets but people's very lives that most have no idea what kind of economy and political system we have, nor do they care. The evil seems too great for them to wrap their minds around, and those who are foisting this evil on the world know that they have a chance to get away with it. Republican or Democrat, niether seems to be the party of capitalism, niether progressive, and will we be resilient through the grass roots or be enslaved like this guy offering his wet body to the next lightning bolt to keep his absurd job? If a minimum wage job seems worth dying for because no one will provide a half hour's decent reprieve, then the intent seems, conscious or not, to take life--the guy stood out there like some gruesome modern art demonstration. You say it's his fault because he didn't say, "The hell with it," and quit? Well, maybe he was steadfast to keep the little edge on the market he has and someone should have given him a half hour in a dry place to return when the storm ended. Oh, it's not slavery. He's paid! Wink, wink.

We turned from Route 560 onto Flatbrook Road, tried a few stretches in light rain with a Muddler Minnow and stonefly nymph. We had a look at a spot down an improved road, and wound up at Roy Bridge, parking in the lot below and fishing this area intensively with bead head nymphs, sure trout were present, getting no takes. A couple of fly fishermen had been fishing the hole above and we let them be. After about 45 minutes--we had gone below and I had seen a splash from above--I felt the day seem to resolve itself, felt we would leave in a few minutes. Matt snagged a nymph on a downed tree in the stream, in the middle of deep water where I had snapped off my large brown Wooly Bugger with a bright purple tail and bead head after getting two or three casts. He said he was going to swim and get both flies, but freed his fly a moment later. I said he could have my Bugger if he got it.

I was surprised the water was over his head. As I had mentioned, by then I felt I had finished. A trout had kept rising the whole time we spent there. I tied on an Adams and aroused no interest as mine sort of drooped away. I looked at the Adams on water surface and instead of seeing something that had potential in those patterns of color and shade tied just so, it looked almost infinitely useless, felt as if I could fish that fly here in the pool eternally--with some trout in the pool--and nothing would ever happen. The sheer stupidity of purposelessness touched me and we were going to be out of there in minutes. Occurs to me now it's the sort of situation that so-called capitalists are now so desperately trying to evade as to hire as if they have forgotten they have human brains, to hire without productive design, such as making that young man stand with lightning strikes yards from his soaked body and placard with hideous, running ink, a colored series of gashes that looked like Van Gogh actually had gone mad. If you view a Van Gogh painting, you will notice that every stroke is mastered by firm intention.

I walked around deep water, and having forgotten the pool already, asked Matt, "Are you sure those were bass you saw?"

"I thought so."

I pitched a cast with the Adams in a little run, a small brown immediately rose for it but didn't take. Tried a nymph, nothing, but with renewed initiative, headed upstream to the large pool at the bridge. Three guys banged browns on Rapalas. Below the bridge you can use spinning tackle. Matt had that Bugger. Best I could do was tie on my largest stonefly nymph and strip it like a streamer. Nothing. Maybe a tap.

But fairly soon I went back to the car and asked Matt if I could borrow his big brown Wooly Bugger. I knew he had done his fishing and just wanted to dry off. That purple tail especially excited me. A reflection strip would have been better. But I stripped the streamer through that fast, deep run Matt swam across and after maybe half a dozen tries and one tap, set the hook on a firm strike and landed a brown nearly 12 inches long.

An experienced fly fisherman would have caught a lot more a lot sooner, but that was my last cast and we left, myself satisfied that I had figured a little out at least. Water was slightly stained. Those invisible, subtly drifting nymphs were useless or close to it at least for these recently stocked browns.

   

A Few Bass on Senko-Type Worm: Seeking New Fishing Spot

Senko-type worm yeilded a few small bass in the back of Mount Hope Pond along the west side. Sunfish tore the worm up, and when they peck like this on nearly every cast, annoying the hell out of me after a while, bass usually aren't interested. Makes sense. If sunfish are this incautious, the bass probably aren't feeding.

This pond--beautiful place, the glacial stone is an unforgettable reminder of time's lingering rather than passage--is so full of sunfish you would think bass would be all over too. But bass are fairly rare. Last year every one I caught seemed to be three pounds, though. Not quite really, but average size is about that.

Solitary mood again. Cloud cover, dampness on the leaves, a lone breeze keeping steady felt fishy and it flashed on me that at Round Valley I might be doing better.

I did persist and get over a mood that tried to return me to the soil like everything passive. Nonetheless, I resolved to get out the maps this weekend and go elsewhere next week. That could be a bad choice; one never knows. Big bass are in this pond. Who knows, maybe this is why I have never caught a largemouth over five pounds, that I'm too restless and choose to move on when waiting it out would bring the result. I fish by moods. Last year this place was glory. Felt like it would reward me this year too, then sagged out, and I just don't want to come back anytime soon and deal with that.

Steady Breeze, Clouds and Sun, Round Valley Reservoir Bass

For an hour and 15 minutes bass fishing Round Valley Reservoir this afternoon, the one constant was a steady 15 mph breeze. Clouds threatening showers alternated with sunlight; the whole situation felt fishy when I walked down the bank to take position. I caught the bass photographed on the second cast, two others, lost a decent bass to a weakened knot, and missed two other hits never moving my feet from where I planted them. All of these but one hit in about eight feet of water. The other was way out over 15 feet or more; it struck well before worm touched bottom. I was determined today because I know bass at least close to four pounds frequent the area right where I stood.

The light Chompers worm (7 inch) caught the first and second bass, but I switched to a Senko-type shortly after, rigging it Texas style but without any weight. This of course made the difference both for casting and keeping the bow out of the line in that wind. Interesting to have tried snapping the worm off bottom so it plummets head-down back. One of the hits I missed came when I decided to reel in fast, then abruptly stopped retrieve. When I tightened, the bass was on and I goofed up. Everything new takes practice--that's why a lot of people refuse to do anything different, becuase that would show them up. This quick retrieve/stop action is a method I have thought would work for a long time, and today it did. Not that I've tried it a whole lot, but the Senko-type has quick action built in and seems best for this.  

Last 10 minutes spent along the rocks, I realized this is not the last of my Round Valley forays this spring after all (I was dying to catch a big bass today). Gates close on Ranger Cove and the west side of the pond on Memorial Day, but not the rocks, and they're worth fishing at least through most of June.

Float Tripping Rivers for Family Recreation and Awareness of Home

Float tripping the Delaware is a great way to go with family and friends. These photos of my son, Matt, wife, Patricia, and my son's uncle David, my brother from Connecticut, go back about seven years when the river was not so crowded near Barryville, New York. We rented from Cedar Rapids and usually still do. 

We drive up from Bedminster 90 miles, and David would drive down and across about the same mileage from West Hartford. My good friend Steve Slota introduced me and Matt (then five) along with his son, Tom (then three), to the Barryville region. Steve's been enjoying miles of the river between ridges for years before the New York Times discovered it. Never forget how wild this river is, no matter how many people are on it from all over. Even at Lamberville or Trenton, New Jersey, it's a wild river, not quite as clean, but not dirty. Smallmouth bass are plentiful in New York, and plenty are in Trenton above the tidal zone too. Walleyes are caught in both ranges, and tiger muskies in tidal regions as well as largemouth bass and sometimes stripers galore, which travel all the way into New York now too.

Rivers anywhere in the U.S. are a great American tradition because they are really more than traditional, us utilizing them recreationally, I mean. Same as anywhere else in the world, at any time in history, we use rivers because the planet is really home more than where we shack up. Since pre-civilized times--hundreds of thousands of years ago--we've floated rivers because the motion and centrality transports us about this open environment in which we live.

High Water Fertility Mount Hope Pond This Year

Mount Hope Pond's water fertility is richer this year. Clarity is reduced and masses of algae are thick. Last year, none of these masses took hold even by August. I suppose this could be good for the bass, boosting the brood of recent years. Certainly they have more habitat to hide in. But it seems to make fishing tough now; it's as if the nice bass around three pounds I'm used to are not in the sticks like they were last year. Perhaps they get in the algae masses now. 

So I tried placing the Chompers beside the messes to let it drop in possible view. This simple approach really pays off in Lewis Morris County Park's Sunrise Lake. I did hook and lose a bass about three feet between two sickly green clumps.

The two bass I caught took the worm placed well out from shore in deeper water, both near submerged tree trunks.

Such dismay today I got to thinking about going to Hedden Park Friday. Plenty bass in that pond, but small. Finally I realized, no, I'm not selling out on the possibility of a real nice bass like the lunker around 21 inches I spotted two weeks ago. I have another lake in mind I haven't tried, but not yet.

Watching and Casting to a 19 inch Largemouth in Gin Clear Water

Largemouth about 19 inches occupied me for 10 or 15 minutes. Clarity allowed me to watch it 10 feet down and about 20 feet out. I tryed the seven inch Chompers and a Strike King wacky. Demonstration that you can move a lure right by a bass, further away, initial drop just past its nose (spooked), etc., and if it's not interested and you can't see it--it's as if no bass are around at all. Obvious thought, but it really made me feel the situation that no matter how carefully I fish a worm sometimes, it makes no difference. 

Caught a 10 inch bass I had spotted in close, tossed the Chompers to several times, no interest. Then I casted the Chompers 20 feet further out, let it sink half way, and slowly worked it back with subtle tip twitches. Sure enough, once the worm came into range, the bass turned and cruised right for it, took, and I set quick. Released it right away.

Caught a nice buck at Mount Hope yesterday I got right back in too. 

Lewis Morris County Park: Multiple Recreational Attraction, Fishing Included

Lewis Morris County Park in Washington Township, N.J., covers 1154 acres of forest, meadows, streams, and sites developed for recreational purposes from Route 24 south and west to Tempe Wick Road, bordering upon Morristown National Historical Park. Maintained trails wind through forest for mountain bikers and hikers to loop as many as six miles on a single path, more than this combined. Morris County’s great unifying trail, Patriot’s Path, connects many parks and communities, and links Lewis Morris Park into its eclectic system. Some trails are designated for horseback riding, open spaces are good for cross country skiing and snow shoeing, open hills for sledding during winter. Athletic fields, fitness stations, horseshoe pits, a playground, dog park, picnic facilities, and a group camping area are also features that make the park attractive for recreation.

I used to take the county park system too much for granted, almost as if "they" had reserved the land and constructed the recreational features. I valued wilder places like the Great Smokies and also the removes of Great Bay and Great Egg Harbor--the whole Barnegat Bay system really, except I didn't venture far north behind Island Beach. For 13 years I clammed mostly behind Long Beach Island, and this is wild space--especially in January and February. But nowadays I appreciate the homier wild spaces if especially because we're really all in this world together. So I really value seeing people get outside to enjoy themselves.

Discovering who or what the parks signify puts them on your mental map. Lewis Morris was New Jersey's first governor.

A three acre aquatic impoundment also graces Lewis Morris Park near Route 24.

Sunrise Lake is fed by a tiny brook with a small population of native brook trout, which require pure water to survive. (The stream's length is about a mile from the originating spring.) A swimming beach, paddle and row boats, snack bar, locker rooms and showers, and plenty of shore space to fish largemouth bass, sunfish, and bullheads are main attractions. The fishing is good, and has been written about for The Fisherman magazine.

I've caught bass here on Redfin minnow plugs in November. Balsa Rapalas have faster action suited to August, when we have done well in the corner area near the dock around sunset. Since Sunrise gets weedy, spinnerbaits are often effective--especially with falling barometer and initial rain. But Senko style worms are great to cast long range to floating algae masses. This is shadow line fishing. Get the Senko right next to the mass; it drops in sunlit view for a bass in the shade to shoot out and takes.

Not all are under those masses. Three acres isn't a whole lot of water, but fishing a worm can make it seem so. Fish whatever weed edges you can find first, then start guessing. The area near the dock and that corner produce. But so does the dike edge and out from it too.

I once caught a four pounder, and a number from two to two and a half pounds. Most of the bass here are 10 to 13 inches, but I've heard of five pounders from a reputable source.