So here we are at the start of 2012 – another year and one in its infancy. And the exciting thing about that is that no matter how old one might be, we all get to plunge into it with a clean slate. I recall a New Year’s party scene from the movie Forrest Gump where a blonde bimbo enthusiastically whispers in Forrest’s ear; “don’t you just love New Year’s – you get another chance to start all over again”…

...another chance to start all over again...

In my own life, I start every year much the same – spending New Years Day in “seclusion” – or as some in my family would say – in my “cone of silence”…

Goal setting the Get Smart way...

Free from distractions, I once again eagerly put pen to paper to plan out the year. At least some of that planning is related to fly fishing. The end result is a bucket list of goals.

Way back in 2010, under the magical qualities of a rather high quality dry gin martini, I had enough chutzpah to actually publish those goals. Revisiting them has been more than humbling, to wit:

1) Purchase and set up an 8 weight fly fishing rig (fly rod / reel / line) for Finger Lake and Great Lakes tribs. Accomplished thanks to the fine folks at JP Ross Fly Rods in Utica, NY!

2) Catch the following “firsts” on the fly; a steelhead, lake trout, and a bluefish, striped bass, or weakfish. I did catch several steelhead on a guided outing with NY State Fly Fishing Guide Loren Williams (a post on this trip is forthcoming), however, none of the other species have been caught to date…

3) Begin fly tying – focus on the Picket Pin, Wooly Bugger, and Egg and Worm Patterns. Not even close…

4) Float fish the Susquehanna; a) Binghamton to Vestal Park, b) Vestal Park to Campville, and c) Campville to Owego. I’ve yet to float the river again since Kelly’s Excellent Canoe Adventure. I should get a “pass” on this goal for 2011, given the high river levels in general and the flooding that wiped out the fall smallmouth bass fishing…

5) Practice and improve my casting distance and accuracy.  Learn to single haul and double haul. A zippo…

6) Purchase my PA fishing license and explore, fish, and learn PA creeks and rivers. I did purchase the “pee-yay” license in 2010 and did some trout fishing on a few creeks such as the Loyalsock, Muncy, and the South Branch of the Tunkhannock.

7) Learn and use the following knots:  Non-Slip Mono Knot, Palomar Knot, Improved Turtle Knot, and Perfection Loop.  Learn to tie my own leaders. I have mastered the Non-Slip Mono Knot and Perfection Loop, but need to work on the others…

Overall, a lackluster accounting, and no wonder, as 2011 was not a great year for the Southern Tier Fly Fisher. As will be covered in a future post looking back on the year, water was actually a problem much of the year. Precipitation plagued the region: we ended with close to double the norm for the year.

So what’s a fly fisher to do?

Option 1 – Delete the 2010 goals post.

Option 2 – Forget goals altogether.

Option 3 – Forget 2010 and 2011, rewrite my goals for 2012, and get back in the water.

I noodled these questions with every swill of Hendricks gin and decided to consult literature on the subject. I found a myriad of advice on the internet, and all of it, through the ages, suggested Option 3. Here’s just a sampling:

“We aim above the mark to hit the mark.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

“My philosophy of life is that if we make up our mind what we are going to make of our lives, then work hard toward that goal, we never lose – somehow we win out.” Ronald Reagan

“Lee Wulff was born in Valdez, Alaska on February 10, 1905 and began fishing almost as soon as he could walk. During the rest of his life, until the final day, April 29, 1991, when he died at the controls of his Super Cub airplane, Lee furiously and fearlessly pursued lofty goals in conservation, innovative fly fishing techniques and tackle, habitat protection and fisheries management.” On the life of Lee Wulff…

As a special challenge, I recently set myself the goal of catching an Atlantic salmon of ten pounds or over on a #28 hook… Lee Wulff

“Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what’s a heaven for?” Robert Browning

“Without some goal and some effort to reach it, no man can live.” Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky

“In philosophy, it is not the attainment of the goal that matters, it is the things that are met with by the way.”Henry Havelock Ellis

“Hitch your wagon to a star.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

“I respect the man who knows distinctly what he wishes. The greater part of all mischief in the world arises from the fact that men do not sufficiently understand their own aims. They have undertaken to build a tower, and spend no more labor on the foundation than would be necessary to erect a hut.”John Wolfgang von Goethe

“If one advances confidently in the direction of his own dreams and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” Henry David Thoreau

“Begin with the end in mind.” Stephen Covey

“First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.” Epictetus

For last year’s words belong to last year’s language. And next year’s words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning. T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding

Every man should be born again on the first day of January.  Start with a fresh page.  Take up one hole more in the buckle if necessary, or let down one, according to circumstances; but on the first of January let every man gird himself once more, with his face to the front, and take no interest in the things that were and are past.  ~Henry Ward Beecher

And so, fellow anglers, I have decided to re-write my goals – possibly pare them down a bit, removing those that occupy that space beyond possibility, replacing them with other goals just within reach. I’ll take those trout rising a little closer and leave the big boys for later on, when my cast is stronger.  You’ll see what I’m talking about just around the bend…

I read once that Dickens was inspired to write the story after a bout of writer’s block. Mounting debts and financial pressures were bearing down on him, so he began to walk the streets of London at night, hoping to break his spell. Some of these walks took him through poor  areas of London where he began to witness the dark side of poverty, and worse yet, children forced to work in horrid conditions. These experiences led to the story, “A Christmas Carol”.

Perhaps the most important line in the story comes about as Scrooge is confronted with the ghost of his long-time business partner, Jacob Marley. The ghost bemoans his past as a mortal to which Scrooge replies, “But you were always a good man of business, Jacob”. The response is arguably the best line in the story:

“Business!” cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”

"Mankind was my business..."

Sobering, Marleys’ words are. How often, in our own eagerness to seek the relaxation and pleasure of angling a-stream, have we not kept Christmas? How often have we helped the community-at-large in some way beyond our own wants? Have we ever taken a kid or adult – someone in need – to the beautiful places we fish? Have we been kind to fellow anglers, considerate to others, and patient? How have we used the wonder of fly fishing to better the world? Have we “kept” Christmas in our angling, and beyond that, in our lives, and if not in the past, can we commit to it in the future?

So, fellow flyfishers, I urge each of you to pick up “A Christmas Carol”. Draw up near the fireplace, book in hand, and drink of its wisdom. Then carry it with you this year – grace each river and stream you cross with it. Be truly, a better angler…

Merry Christmas and God Bless Us, Every One!

Consider this quote from Andy Mill’s well-written interview post about tarpon fly fishing guide Steve Huff:

“It makes me crazy when people say, “Oh. I know the whole Islamorada area.” You know what? Nobody knows this stuff. I mean they do not fully know it. You could never know it. There is not enough lifetime to really know it all, especially here in the Everglades. There is not enough lifetime“.

There’s not enough lifetime. We fly fishers should always be thankful for that.

I am thankful for the fact that I can fish an entire day on the Susquehanna, the Tioughnioga, the Chenango, and so many more rivers, and never see another fisherman.

The Susquehanna River

I am thankful that I can rise early and spend time over a steaming cup of black coffee, and still not know where to fish, so vast are the choices. I am thankful for the spring days, when mayflowers abound…

West Branch of the Delaware in Spring

and I can’t quite decide whether I should fish for pre-spawn smallmouth, or the wild rainbows and browns of the Delaware.

A West Branch Delaware River brown...

I am thankful that I can fish coldwater and warmwater, moving water and stillwater, freshwater and saltwater, in the same weekend.

Party boat fishing at night for blues off New Jersey...

And I am thankful for the spawn, and the great fish that are driven up small creeks to pass on their noble heritage.

A landlocked salmon caught from Fall Creek...

I am thankful for the endless drive of Mother Nature – for nature’s drive to procreate, for the force that fishes have to feed, and for the excitement these forces can cause. I am thankful for everything that depends on water – eagles, heron, wood ducks, mergansers, deer, otter, beaver and bear. I am thankful that they too are drawn to water.

At the end of an early morning on the river, with the fog lifting, and the day just starting for most in this world, I can’t stop pinching myself for the very fact that there’s not enough lifetime.

Happy Thanksgiving…

Such is my case most recently. If blogging paid – and I am told it can, and I pray, someday will – I could become a slave to the page and pile it on the readership. Unfortunately that is not the case now. Bread must be put on the table, children with collegiate appetites must be sent off to study, and taxes incessantly knock.

In these days of constant economic upheaval, the reality is that one must always keep one step ahead of the corporate grim reaper. Gone are the days of a job for life. Roosting on the telephone wires that line the road to financial security and carefree retirement are not songbirds of prosperity, but crows, even vultures, waiting for one to stumble and become carrion of the American Dream. Ironically, this very place – the Southern Tier of New York – practically invented the idea of lifetime job security. Here, in what was once known as “The Valley of Opportunity”, icons of corporate benevolence were born. They built great enterprises that employed thousands, housed them in low-priced and easily financed homes, cared for them with company hospitals, threw parades for them, gave free concerts, and built carousels that are free to the public even to this day…

Ahhh, for want of the good ole days…

So, in short, I left my last place of employ, looking for greater opportunity – to state it in a way as to not offend the corporate world. I found it in Ithaca – home of, well, a different way of thinking. I joined a small company that has a bright future. It’s good there, and it seems for now at least, the songbirds of prosperity are back to roost along my path…

It’s a long commute – 50 minutes to an hour – slightly better when I’m flying low. But oh, what a commute…

The East Branch of Owego Creek just below Richford.

Along the route babbles Owego Creek, a good trout fishery that is stocked but is also home to holdovers. In the main stem there are some big browns on occasion – in the upper reaches where it splits, more browns and native brook trout. It flows from hamlets like Harford Mills and Caroline, and is nurtured from step-across size as it winds through state forest, to a good wade size as it joins the Susquehanna River in Owego.

Not far from my commuting path are Nanticoke Creek and Catatonk Creek. I cross the upper section of Fall Creek as I near my destination in Ithaca – another good trout fishery. And from this new perch of mine, I have access to watersheds I’ve barely fished. Cayuga Lake practically laps at my feet now and the lower section of Fall Creek, known for its fall run of landlocks and browns and a lesser run of rainbows in spring, is just 5 minutes away. And if I want to take a more westerly route home, there’s Buttermilk Falls, through which Buttermilk Creek passes on its way to Cayuga Lake, and a little farther south and west, wonderful Cayuta Creek.

Buttermilk Falls, near Ithaca. The falls are formed by Buttermilk Creek as it cuts through rock on its way to Cayuga Lake. Over thousands of years, the creek has formed deep plunge pools that are home to some very nice brown trout.

So far the change is good. We all need change in life to shake things up – knock the ordinary out and bring in the new. The long break from my last post has hopefully also served to recharge my writing batteries. We shall see, I guess…

Tight Lines…

A good haul of cod in 1921 before the entire Grand Banks fishery collapsed...

It’s not like early explorers were Nat Geo-accurate. But later reports, by Lewis and Clark, seem to echo what Christopher Columbus and John Cabot saw in the new land. Consider that the Lewis and Clark expedition was stopped on the Missouri River by a buffalo herd crossing and had to wait “several hours” before the river was clear of buffalo. Indeed, the herd to the west of the Mississippi at its peak was estimated to be comprised of 30 to 75 million individuals. That’s a lot of bison burgers…

Imagine the herd all of these bison skulls belonged to... (Picture circa 1870)

Progress and the environment have been at odds almost to the day America started. The enormous cod fishery of the Grand Banks is gone. Buffalo live in herds that are a shadow of their former glory. Atlantic salmon were once native to almost every U.S. river north of the Hudson River; remnant wild populations are now known in only 11 rivers.

But Mother Nature will work with us. Give her a little break and she takes hold. A town park left alone, for example, can harbor native brook trout. Other encouraging stories abound: the re-establishment of shad runs, sturgeon, and striped bass.

The environment is cleaner these days across much of the nation and certainly in the Southern Tier. Wildlife such as eagles and osprey, once a rarity on local rivers, are now commonly seen. Fish the Chenango River as far down as downtown Binghamton, and you’re likely to see snowy white egrets also fishing the river…

Looking upstream on the Chenango River where egrets find the fishing to be just fine...

But there’s a potentially dark storm cloud looming just to our south…

A natural gas drilling rig stands amidst the autumn beauty of the Pennsylvania countryside...

Pennsylvania is sprouting up rigs like dandelions these days. The drillers have come to harvest natural gas from the Marcellus Shale, a huge formation of marine sedimentary rock underlying parts of New York, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Virginia, and Maryland, and named for a distinctive outcrop near, of all places, the village of Marcellus, New York.

An outcrop of Marcellus Shale

The shale contains untapped natural gas reserves that were thought to be inaccessible until technological advances in horizontal drilling referred to as hydraulic fracturing or “fracking”, came about. But the process of fracking as it stands now has its drawbacks, as recently explained in a presentation made by a Trout Unlimited representative at one of our monthly TU chapter meetings.

Drilling is a potential economic boom for the northern Appalachian region, a region that is not exactly prospering economically. Ironically, this same area, particularly West Virginia and Pennsylvania, is still reeling from century-old impacts of the energy industry, including acid mine drainage from coal mines and the devastating ecological impacts of mountain top removal practices. So just as the environment has a chance to recover with the help of conservation-minded sportsmen, it seems to be under siege again.

The drilling issue is divisive, even among sportsmen. NY currently has a moratorium on drilling as it rushes to better understand what’s at stake, but there are many who want action now. I know of hunters who own land currently under lease (at a good price, I might add) and who salivate at the thought of gas royalties. I also know other sportsmen who have told me, unabashedly, that if they did own land they’d “drill, baby, drill”, collect, and leave…

Most recently, another of a series of gas drilling incidents in Pennsylvania serves as a reminder that there’s a price to pay for “progress”. Personally, I can’t but help to look at our scenic creeks, streams, and rivers and wonder what their future may be…

The West Branch of the Delaware could some day serve up its water for drilling

If only those gripped by the potential for monetary gain could spend a day with ole’ Christopher Columbus or John Cabot, to see how far we’ve come…

Tight lines…

This past Wednesday and Thursday are a classic example – an all day soaking rain and chilly temps on Wednesday, just in time for bluebird skies, a warm 60 degree day-time high, and…

The lower section of Nanticoke Creek on Thusday, 4/14 - robins singing, the sun is out - what more could one want...?

high water with a distinctive muddy stain to it on Thursday. The picture above was taken by yours truly while on lunch break. I hate to admit it, but on beautiful days when I have to work, and could be enjoying the inspiring environs of trout, I’m selfishly glad for high water.

Thanks to two days of drying out, local creeks and streams are settling back down to decent levels, as evidenced by this pic of the Owego Creek gauge…

Owego Creek is back to good fishing levels - just in time for more rain...

and just in time for Mother Nature to throw more slack in that drift with a forecast of steady rain and cool temps for Saturday, which just happens to be the opener to the south of us in Pennsylvania.

Dark green is not good for anglers...

Early bird anglers will be cold, but best off, as the rain isn’t really supposed to kick in until noon. Water levels could be back up by late afternoon with the ground as saturated as it is, so if you plan on hitting the opener in pee-aayy, or some of our local re-stocked creeks in NY, don’t sleep in.

Tight lines…

Nanticoke Creek, in great fishing shape, a year ago to the day...

We may, in fact, still be a few weeks behind last year’s spring breakout. But remember NY’s weather rule which holds that if you don’t like the weather, just wait a minute. Of course, that could mean a leap to summer-like temps or a cold winter recession and even more of the white stuff…

In any case, it’s still not too late to get the gear out and spread it all over the living room – drape every piece of furniture with it – lay out fly boxes and reels and spare spools on every flat surface – empty reels of fly line and backing – and christen it all with a few empty beer bottles, perhaps. Much as a dog marks their territory, this will let all household inhabitants know, you are IN town and ready to flog the banks…

And whilst doing this, don’t forget the bevy of fly fishing events popping up like so many crocuses. Our area is ripe with them, and just this weekend, you’ll find 2 fine examples to attend and really get you in the mood…

If that doesn’t induce spring fever, or the cost of “Texas tea” is just too heady to drive much, stay home and attend to cleaning, lubing, restoring, fixing and general preparation, as described in these short articles:

Rod Care 1, Rod Care 2

Reel Care

Line Care

Boot Care

Preparing 1, Preparing 2

Tight  Lines…

Anyone for a Sunday drive?

The remainder of March looks better, with warming daytime temps ranging from freezing to the low 50′s. March is always a wild card, but as it came in “a lion”, it will hopefully go out, “a lamb”.

Fly fishing will be iffy until the creeks drop and clear a bit, but Southern Tier anglers should take heart: there’s a lot going on locally to keep even the most restless angler happy. Click here for a current listing of local fly fishing events.

Even if you’re not the social type – you know, one of those lone wolf anglers – there’s still much to do to prepare for the fly fishing season. Click here for a summary of the kind of stuff you ought to be doing right now. And if it’s fly fishing supplies you’re lacking, click here for a list of Southern Tier fly shops and retailers that might help you stock up for the opener.

Tight Lines…

Sutton's corporate headquarters - conveniently located next to the chinese restaurant where corporate takeovers are regularly planned...

You can thank STFF staff member, master swimmer and long-ago side stroke champion Kelly, born and bred near the place, for turning my attention to this world-class lure-maker. Kelly is still a regular visitor to the sprawling metropolis of Naples and soon after the Christmas holidays, returned with new tales of that oh-so-special place on the south end of Canandaigua Lake. Indeed, I felt much like Thomas Jefferson must have felt at the return of the Lewis and Clark expedition.

First came the pictures from Kelly’s winter expedition:

Christmas in full splendor - one stop shopping for the entire family...

Kelly had to literally press through throngs of people, all waiting to see what Sutton had in their display window under their towering Christmas tree, just to get these rare pictures. But the boots, trucker-style hats complete with Sutton logo, Carhart clothing, wool socks, leather work gloves, ice fishing tip-ups, and WD-40 all paled in comparison to the tray of gleaming spoons of every Sutton shape and size…

Sutton's crown jewels, shimmering like so many diamonds...

And then came the goods. I’m not talking about beaver pelts or Yukon gold – I’m talking a whole, beautifully boxed, thickly filled, grape pie. Yep, grape pie made with the best grapes this side of the Napa Valley – concord grapes – a native american variety – and, no less the same grape that makes the famed Manischewitz Wine…

Grape pie capitol of the world...

The pie came from Monica’s – another one of those Naples, NY trademarks that apparently has quite a following; hell, they’re even on Facebook. Monica’s has been filling pies since way back in 1983 and one bite of just the crust will surely make you a believer in their product. The grape filling is heavenly, just tart enough to put a jump in your step and not leave you puckered up like a spawning sucker. And in addition to the fact that your pie will be neatly boxed, count on a bumper sticker or two to accompany your pie – perfect to slap on the side of your Hyde drift boat.

Spoons and pie are undoubtedly what Naples, NY is all about. I’ve yet to hear from the corporate execs at The Sutton Company regarding my new fly spoon product line…

How could that not attract a laker or two...

It could be “The Board” is still strategizing, pouring over marketing reports, and hiring extra accountants to handle the influx of greenbacks that is surely to follow such a product announcement. Or, maybe they’re a little reticent – you know – the whole “straying from our core business” thing you hear so much of these days from the talking heads of CNBC. If that’s the case, I now know just how to sweeten the deal…

Corporate persuader?

Tight lines…

The cold, the snow, the silence - it can get to you...

For the most hardy amongst us, even winter fly fishing is limited by this most recent spate of bitter cold. Just a few weeks ago, before the Arctic enveloped the Southern Tier, I made it out for a walk along the main stem of Nanticoke Creek, up north of the village of Maine, NY. This little put and take fishery was largely icebound, save the riffles and glides…

Nanticoke Creek in deep winter...

The Nanticoke is closed in the off season to fishing but it did offer respite for this winter-bound angler. The creek-side snow was deep the day I hiked its course – the surrounding woods silent, save the sound of the wind whispering through boughs of hemlock.

Flowing sweet and black...

The soft murmur of it’s icy black water soothed my soul like a lullaby; the contrast of the stark colors of winter – the deep green of hemlock against the white snow – enough to offer promise of spring.

Looking upstream to the junction pool...

Although it’s hard to acknowledge in the depth of winter, especially when we are assaulted each weekend with fly fishing shows from southern locales, there is purpose in the off season. Like the seventh day of the week, we all need time to reflect on the past, rest in the present, and look forward to the rebirth that comes with spring.

So for inspiration to the winter-bound out there, I’ll close this post with one of Robert Frost’s most famous poems – Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening. While there are many themes found in this poem, including Frost’s own bouts with depression and dealing with loss, its words speak to me about the importance of balance: Valuing rest, symbolized by the alluring beauty of the woods in winter, with activity, which there seems to be so much of in modern life.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely dark and deep

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Sleep softly, Nanticoke Creek…