Three Kinds of Trout

To most fly anglers who pursue trout (and their brethren) there are three kinds of fish: hatchery, wild and native.

At the low end of the fish chain are hatchery fish. These are as close as we get to "man-made fish." Raised in stainless steel tanks these trout often develop deformed body shapes, die prematurely and generally not very sophisticated consumers. As Aldo Leopold observed, the value of a game fish (or animal) is inverse to the artificiality of its origin. Therefore, hatchery fish are not valued very highly. However, as someone who spends most of his "passion" time pursuing hatchery fish (Ohio steelhead are hatchery fish), I have developed an elaborate rationalization as to why I value hatchery fish.

The rationalization goes like this: Even hatchery fish require quality environments to thrive. As John Voelker/Robert Traver so accurately wrote: "I fish because I love to. Because I love the environs where trout are found, which are invariably beautiful, and hate the environs where crowds of people are found, which are invariably ugly."And even hatchery trout -- at least the ones I care to chase -- are found in invariably beautiful environs. And these environs remind us of both the value and fragility of our natural assets. Even hatchery trout cannot survive poor land use policies and weak environmental regulations. Tragically our ancestors wiped out most of the native fish long before I picked up a fly rod. Hatchery fish are a weak, but important reminder of man's ability to distort the environment for good or ill.

Wild fish were born in a river or lake, but are not native to the environs where they hang out. In short, they can trace their lineage back to a stainless steel tank somewhere. Wild fish are preferred to hatchery fish because they symbolize the higher quality of their environment. That a river can sustain a trout population without an infusion of hatchery fish tells us that the river is clean, cold and (likely) even more beautiful than the environ that is home to the hatchery fish. I spent several seasons on the Brule River in Wisconsin and the Knife in Minnesota and was fortunate to catch a few wild steelhead mixed in among the hatchery fish. Michigan's rivers are home to plentiful runs of wild steelhead and perhaps next spring I'll drive north to sample that run. The brown trout and rainbows that I love to chase in Central Pennsylvania are wild fish, but they are not native. I regret that the brook trout have been squeezed out by the imports, but that fact doesn't make the spring creeks around State College any less beautiful or any less in need of our vigilant protection.

Nearly every trout I've caught on a fly rod has been either a hatchery or a wild fish.

The highest level of trout is the native, wild trout. This rare fish is a testament to man's inability to completely destroy the natural world God gave us; more accurately it's verification of the amazing resiliency of Mother Nature. I've caught wild brook trout in Wisconsin, Minnesota and Pennsylvania. Each brookie is a living, glistening example of God's existence and his skills as a painter. I've caught a few native cut throat in Yellowstone and some native rainbows in California. But that's it.

My lack of "native experience" is just one of the reason why I'm looking forward to my initial visit to Alaska next month. I have only one wish for the trip: to catch as many different kinds of native, wild fish as I can. I want to see and hold as wide a variety of God's handiwork as possible. There is a risk that the experience will diminish my passion for the hatchery fish I chase in Steelhead Alley. It's a risk I'm looking forward to taking.

The Fly Fisherman's Paradox - Shale Version

Every honest angler (that's almost an oxymoron) for trout in North America deals with paradox. We cherish our cold water streams, yet recognize that many of those streams (ranging from the Green and Madison out West, to the Delaware and Youghiogheny in the East) are cold because of man, not nature.

We love our brown trout, but know that man brought them here from Germany. And we enjoy the leaping rainbow, even though it is mostly a synthetic fish and the steelhead I pursue are transplants from my native West Coast.

Perhaps there is nothing we anglers look forward to more than the road trip (or plane trip) to our favorite stream or a bucket-list stream. Yet, we know the very act of hitting the road damages the environment on which the fragile fish we pursue depend.

Earlier this month, while driving to and from a Pennsylvania river, I came face-to-face with another paradox. Gas wells. Horizontal gas wells that depend on hydraulic fracturing technology -- better known as "fracking."

Drilling these deep wells to tap into the Marcellus and Utica shale requires thousands of gallons of water laced with toxic chemicals to break up the shale and release the gas. Drilling companies haven't always handled that water well; damaging invaluable waterways. And as a new paper by the Stark Development Board kindly points out: "The environmental track record of the industry historically has been very good, but given the consequences of even a single failure, 'very good' is not good enough to operate in a self-regulating oversight model."

So clearly, if we are to protect and preserve the water in Pennsylvania and Ohio then meaningful and substantial regulations need to be in place. Yet, we know that even with those regulations in place an accident will likely happen with severe consequences.

On the other side of this paradox, oil and gas underneath our feet means jobs, economic wealth and perhaps less reasons to send our young men and women overseas to build nations where none have ever existed. As someone whose job it is to help strengthen our region's economy and whose daughter's soldier is patrolling a desolate stretch of Afghanistan, this is a powerful paradox.

When in search for wisdom and guidance, if not answers, I turn to Aldo Leopold.

Aldo wrestled with his share of paradoxes.

"A conservationist is one who is humbly aware that with each stroke [of the axe] he is writing his signature on the face of the land."

And he conceded the limits the land ethic he so passionately and effectively espoused.

"We shall never achieve harmony with the land, anymore than we shall achieve absolute justice or liberty for people. In these higher aspirations the important thing is not to achieve but to strive."

Is it too much to hope that gas companies will strive to achieve harmony? Probably.

Aldo warned us that:"We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us. When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect." The optimist tells me that Trout Unlimited and other groups with legitimate concerns about the "very good" track record of our gas companies can somehow persuade the drillers to be part of the community. But then I'm good at kidding myself.

Ultimately, I know that Aldo is right when he says: "Examine each question in terms of what is ethically and aesthetically right, as well as what is economically expedient. A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability, and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise."

So I'm stuck in the paradox, challenged at both ends. By Aldo's standards, most of what I love about my fly fishing life just isn't right as much of the water and most of the trout -- while beautiful -- are the result of an altered biotic community. And certainly, the inevitable accident that will come from drilling will damage the biotic community somewhere.

It's enough to make one want to go fishing to sort through it all. And at times like these, I am reminded of the wisdom of the good judge, who said: "(I fish) not because I regard fishing as being so terribly important, but because I suspect that so many of the other concerns of men are equally unimportant and not nearly so much fun."

Dam Gone, Leopold and Steelhead Celebrate

Aldo Leopold and the steelhead are happy today. Leopold's Land Ethic artfully made the case that dams do more damage than good and while the damage done by the dams of the Midwest pale to those in the Northwest, nonetheless all those who believe in the Round River have to be cheering today.

Heavy rains and melting snow took out the small dam in Gates Mills on the Chagrin River this morning. NewsNetFive.com has some good pictures of the scene. While I regret the flooding downstream (and all across Northeast Ohio), the dam needed to be removed and Mother Nature did us all a favor.

Our children used to capture crayfish and catch smallmouth at the base of the dam. While it brought us hours of enjoyment, the dam totally disrupted the natural flow of the river, warmed the water upstream and destroyed miles of potential native brook trout habitat. It is hard to say how the river will respond to running free again in the years ahead, but for the short term it means steelhead will be able spawn upstream to the barrier falls in Chagrin Falls. More than likely the cool headwaters of the Chagrin and small tributaries will result in more successful spawning of steelhead. Steelheaders are already celebrating on Steelheadsite.com.

And it is possible that some of the native brook trout in the Chagrin watershed will be able to expand their territory. To protect and enhance the brook trout fishery, I'd be willing to halt stocking of steelies in the Chagrin. But that will be a long way off, I'd guess.

For now, I'm just glad the dam is gone.

Prepare for the Asian Carp Invasion

The battle over the Asian Carp is heating up -- but heat doesn't mean light. The latest story from the ongoing court battle continues the same theme that's been out there for months. Asian Carp will destroy the Great Lakes ecosystem, but if we try to stop the invasion by blocking the Chicago River we'll destroy commerce.

I doubt that either scenario is 100% correct. The Great Lakes ecosystem has been "destroyed" a few times over. The lamprey -- which traveled from the Atlantic via the St. Lawrence Seaway -- destroyed the Lake Trout; altering the Great Lakes ecosystem forever. (Not to mention the overfishing of the Great Laeks.) Growing up in Milwaukee I remember the rotting odor of dead alewives that ruined more than a few summers along the Great Lakes. The alewives followed the lampreys through the Welland Canal and up the seaway. They didn't belong in the Great Lakes any more than the Pacific Salmon stocked to eat them. Let alone the steelhead stocked to entertain me and thousands of other anglers.

Those creatures were followed by many other hitchikers that arrived aboard ocean going vessels, including a few kinds of mussels that now filter the turbid water of Lake Erie to the point that it is gin clear. That clarity is contributing to algae blooms and other troubles.

Suffice to say the Great Lakes ecosystem is messed up and has been for decades. Of course that is no reason to welcome the carp. I just wish blocking the Chicago River would be enough to keep the carp out. Unfortunately, humans have consistently shown a propensity for putting fish and other creatures where they don't belong without regard to the consequences. (See lake trout in Yellowstone Lake; not to mention didymo in all sorts of places.)

So my bet is the Asian Carp will arrive in the Great Lakes one way or the other.

Both sides of this debate have been messing with nature for decades (remember the flow of the Chicago River has been reversed). As Aldo Leopold said: A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.

We've been doing the Great Lakes wrong for more than a generation. I have derived tremendous pleasure from some of the wrongs done to these blue jewels. Sadly, I doubt there is much we'll be able to do to prevent the next wrong. Perhaps this wrong will encourage us all to put more resources into restoring the integrity, stability and beauty of the Great Lakes (even if that means removing the steelhead I pursue) and (even better) restoring the Chicago River to its natural state.

You Can't Fake It

Moldy Chum does it again with a post of a video from Felt Soul Media regarding the 1% for the Planet initiative. Best line is "you can't fake it." You sure can't, and these guys don't. Blue Ribbon and Patagonia demonstrate that just 1% can make a difference.

They've learned the lesson of Aldo Leopold: Our remnants of wilderness will yield bigger values to the nation's character and health than they will to its pocketbook, and to destroy them will be to admit that the latter are the only values that interest us.

And they've learned that Aldo's philosophy is good for business, too.