PHOTO UPDATE: SAINT MARY'S RIVER & MORE NATURAL BEAUTY

Today saw about 6,000 words get published.  I finished a massive first feature article for Eastern Fly Fishing on the Saint Mary's River, and kicked out the weekly column to which this website is devoted.

  With that off my shoulders, I got to thinking about the photos I have neglected to post over the past several months.  Indeed, my Flickr page is in need of some serious updating.

    Included in this update are some of the photos from my Saint Mary's River shoot with my brother, Phillip, and the shots from Hannah's senior photo shoot.

    Enjoy!

FALL GOBBLERS IN THE PINE CREEK VALLEY

Dawn greeted us with gloom, wind, and drizzle—the traditional late fall bad-weather mix.

    Only a month prior, my college deferral fish-bumming road trip had lead me to Pennsylvania’s Pine Creek Valley, ablaze with October foliage, though the river suffered severely from record-low water.  As luck would have it, I was given the opportunity to return as part of a media group from TroutUnlimited, but the Valley, one of my new favorite locations, had fallen victim to the changing seasons in my absence.  The abrupt surrounding mountains were transparent—skeletal and hardened by the onset of cold—and the river ran high and dark with the cold rains of late fall in the Northern Tier. 

    In three cars—two pickups and a rented SUV—we caravanned to a trailhead on State Forest property, shotguns, blaze orange, and seat cushions in tote.  Four well-trained turkey dogs rode patiently in the bed, knowing all too well what was coming.

Photo by Mark Taylor, TU Eastern Communications Director

    The air was translucent with fog and the smell of the wet fall woods.  Deliberately, our party trudged up the trail, up the mountain, past rose bushes and hemlocks, watching friends and stand-in turkey guides Rob Mucinski and Ron Magnano send their wiry-haired turkey seekers on the chase with directional gestures.  Somewhere within earshot, a gobbler boomed.

    The grade continued, with no switchback or relief, until the trail flattened out on a bench quickly dubbed “the orchard” for the thick population of apple trees growing in an understory clearing.  Paula Piatt, a representative from Trout Unlimited, had done the scouting the week before, and informed Ron and Rob that the birds had been spotted near the orchard on several occasions. 

Photo by Mark Taylor, TU Eastern Communications Director

    “The dogs will find them soon enough,” Ron reassured the group, confident in the ability of the four-legged hunters.

    As we crossed the bench lengthwise and approached a switchback leading further up the mountain, the dots on the guides’ GPS clumped, and baying ensued.  Standing frozen, we watched as a handful of turkey fled the scene in flight and listened as the rest of the flock beat air on the opposite side of the ridge.

    “It’s a clean break,” Ron and Rob agreed.

    A clean break is essential in fall turkey hunting.  The trained dogs are taught to ambush a flock with the hopes of pushing them into immediate flight and dispersing them radially.  Only then can a caller reliably reassemble the frazzled flock with gentle kee kees and clucks.

Photo by Mark Taylor, TU Eastern Communications Director

    Wasting no time, everyone in the group stashed their blaze orange and traded it for camouflage.  Chairs were unfolded, layers adjusted, and bathroom breaks taken.  It takes a certain level of preparation to sit motionless on the forest floor for an hour or more.

    The party split to take up stand locations on each side of the ridge, while the guides took stands behind the shooters, covering the praised dogs in camouflage burlap to quiet them.  In moments, the woods were once again silent, and the calling began.

    Ron and Rob seemed to be talking to one another as they took turns kee keeing from across the ridgeline.

    Rain picked up and the wind swirled and subsided.

    Just a bit more than an hour had passed when the tone of Ron’s calling changed tone.  A shotgun blast followed, as I squinted in curiosity in his direction.

    A bird was down!

    We continued to sit and call for another half hour with no luck; and so we made the decision to break cover and check on the rest of the party. 

Photo by Mark Taylor, TU Eastern Communications Director

    Don Knaus, a local Pennsylvanian outdoor writer, emerged from the woods with a fine bird clutched and displayed by the legs.  Excitedly, Don recounted his encounter with his first fall turkey shot with the aid of trained turkey dogs.

    Don’s bird was the first and only harvest of the day and the trip; and despite the humble apologies of Ron and Rob who had wished for more shots, each and every one in attendance was pleased and excited to share the experience.

Originally published in The Rural Virginian

AN AFTERNOON HUNT AT PRIESTVIEW HUNTING PRESERVE

The morning arrived with strong winds--a deal-breaker for a poorly-trained bird dog, a mere complication for a proficient one.

    With Maggie, our three-year-old Irish Setter, suggesting an oncoming seizure (a recurrent symptom of epilepsy, common in the red setters), our hunt planned for the afternoon at Nelson County's PriestView Hunting Preserve would be accompanied by owner/operator Tim Castillo and his sprightly 11-year-old Brittany, Ginger.  Ginger didn't disappoint.

Photo by Matt Reilly

Photo by Matt Reilly

    All in all, the afternoon was a mighty enjoyable time spent with a new friend and highly talented bird dog--always a pleasure to observe.  Look for the upcoming article on this upland operation in another installment of Adventures Afield in The Rural Virginian, or, as always, on this page once it is published!□

BIG FLIES FOR BIG FISH

It's been a slow couple of days.  After working hard at my ongoing article for Eastern Fly Fishing through the morning and afternoon, and at a relative standstill on my Fly Tyer profile article on Chuck Kraft until I get the chance to interview Mossy Creek Fly Fishing's Colby Trow, I granted myself a break to tie flies again.  It's a somewhat mindless (when you know what you're doing) endeavor and one that invests in tomorrow's fishing, and something that to me is extremely relaxing.

    Digging out my collection of ultra-suede CK tails from Eastern Trophies Fly Fishing, I took a leap at the biggest of the bunch--large Musky Worm Tails.  What resulted from the next few minutes of concentration was my best shot at emulating a CK Musky Critter Dog in firetiger and black, as William Heresniak of Eastern Trophies Fly Fishing ties them.  The Musky Critter Dog is, in itself, a synthetic fly that emulates the all-popular Bull Dawg soft plastic lure used by conventional musky fishermen.

Photo and fly by Matt Reilly

    As materials were married together, I could almost feel the fever slip in.  I've got a good idea of where I'd like to go in the next few weeks to do some nymphal dragon hunting.  If I get the chance, you will read about it here.□

REPLACING WHAT'S LOST: FLY TYING AND LOSING FLIES IN TREES

I've found over the course of my lifetime, all of which I have spent fishing, that tree gods are integral parts of the mountain brook trout fishing experience.  A day on an intimate stream is not complete without a sacrificed fly or half dozen; and only by appeasing the tree spirits is success granted by the rocks and the water.

    THAT is why when I sit down to tie flies for an outing to a particularly tight stream, I tie a half dozen or dozen of each pattern, weight, and color I anticipate fishing, especially when guiding someone new to fly fishing, or who doesn't have the most control over his/her loops.  Not only that, but in the winter time, when, more than most any other time of year, in my opinion, it pays to get down deep in plunge pools and deep runs, flies and split shot wedged under rocks and logs and broken off happen.

    In reality, I don't lose as many flies as I once did, by a longshot.  However, this evening I sat down for an hour and a half to refill my stock of brook trout flies, as they have been dwindling over the past several months.  Two dozen came off the vise, and are ready for action!□

A handful of buggy nymphs ready for action!

A WINTER MORNING ON A BLUE LINE

When it comes to winter freestone trout fishing, I typically grant myself the extra few hours to sleep in and hit the water sometime around noon to fish the part of the day when the sun is highest in the sky.  Specifically during a particularly cold period, this takes advantage of maximum water temperatures which, in theory, provides more active fish.

An average brook trout from a Blue Ridge Mountain stream.
Photo by Matt Reilly.

    However, my general attitude towards fishing is to do it as often as possible, whenever possible, and with a lunch appointment set for 12:30, I didn't even have to think about what I was going to do with my morning.  I was on the road pointed towards the Blue Ridge before sunrise.

    Sunrise was more of a number on the solunar table than a solar event.  Heavy cloud cover held the world in visible gray well into the morning hours.

    I parked the car shortly after 8:00 AM, rigged up my 7'6" 3-wt., and hit the trail.

    I began fishing after a two-mile hike into the Shenandoah National Park.  Heavy flows and cold winter water temperatures in the Park stream called for a heavy fly--something that wouldn't be swept by the current too quickly for the lethargic brookies, and that would reach the desired depth in some of the deeper holes.  A black CK Nymph, a creation of Cville local, Chuck Kraft, self-tied to have a larger profile and heavier weight fit the bill.

    Over the course of the next two hours, about 25 averagely-sized brook trout fell victim to the black "death ray," adjusted with split shot when needed.

    A quick glance at my watch initiated the longest cross-country wader-dash I have endured to this day, but I made it back to the car with almost enough time to make it to lunch on time!

    Reflecting, there is never a wrong or bad time to go fishing--you may be surprised by your experiences!□

"TRASH FISH" OR SPORT FISH?

Today I fished a very pressured river in a section known to have few but large trout finning its deep, slow troughs.  Having lost my last #2 Kreelex a few days prior on the same river, I resorted to throwing a #4.

A solid fallfish from Vermont's Clyde River taken on trout tackle when Salmon fishing.
Photo by Matt Reilly.

    Though I did manage to pick up a few small rainbow and brown trout, plus one brown that went over 12 inches, the majority of fish that came to hand were 10-16-inch fallfish--a fish commonly condemned to "trash fish" status by trout anglers, despite being a true native fish.  In fact, in many of Virginia's larger trout streams, where rainbow and brown trout are the target species, fallfish are the only native species to eat a fly or lure.

    Anyone who has caught one of these large minnows knows that they are capable of great fighting power, characterized by aggressive takes, head-shaking, and jumping.  In this particular stream, it is not uncommon to hook into a 14+-inch fallfish--a worthy adversary, even on a five-weight rod.

    My first memory of fallfish goes back to the small warmwater creek that I fished almost every day of the summer in my childhood years.  One winter afternoon, on an expedition, I followed the small creek that tumbled out of the spillway of a neighborhood pond through thick underbrush and into the woods for about a quarter of a mile.  To my 10-year-old amazement, that small creek emptied into a much larger creek, that I quickly discovered to hold a mixed bag of sunfish, chain pickerel, fallfish, and the occasional bass.  On ultralight spinning tackle, an 8-inch fallfish was exceptional sport, and provided me fast action.  My best fallfish on that stream ran over 14 inches, and is a memorable fish to this day.

    So before you write off the omnipresent fallfish for its eagerness to take a lure or fly, do yourself a favor and take advantage of the sportiness it provides.  Trying to interest a kid in fishing?  The fast action provided by the largest minnows is a foolproof method.  If he/she isn't hooked after landing a decent "fally," they are beyond help!□