Confounding Conneaut

I hooked my first Ohio steelhead on Conneaut Creek two decades ago, and I've caught plenty of fish from this scenic river near the PA border over the years. But that doesn't mean I have a clue as to how to fish it.

I was reminded of that reality as the sun rose behind thick gray cloud cover on Saturday. A steady drizzle fell. As the morning lightened it became clearer that the river wasn't. The Conneaut often carries a tannic tinge -- particularly in the fall -- that hides the creek's rocks, ledges, runs and (of course) its fish.  On this morning the river was making the transition from tanic to muddy and the leaf hatch was heavy. Usually it takes the Conneaut a little longer to muddy up than the other rivers along steelhead alley. Usually. Just not this morning.

But the current still had a good pace to it and I thought the high water might attract a fresh push of steel. I fished my way upstream checking out a few promising holes and skipping those that were occupied. Nothing. I admired the yellow oaks, the red maples and always green pines as I kept moving upstream; succumbing to the belief that something different would be around the bend. Nothing. Nothing but leaves that is. Some casts I'd hook three, one on each hook and one attached to the split shot. I watched a few other anglers catch nothing as well.

I returned to my car and decided to give the spey rod a try. The good news was that I didn't hook a leaf on every cast. After some trial and error (mostly error), I was able to get some decent swings as I fished down a long, relatively straight stretch of river. My casts were passable. A steelhead rolled about 30 yards downstream. I worked my way down. And then kept going as no fish decided to interrupt the swing. I watched a spin fisherman sling a spinner across the river. He caught leaves too.

The rain kept coming. So did the leaves. The fish didn't.

I'd like to say that the Conneaut confounds me because I don't fish it very often. And there's some truth to that. But mostly, the Conneaut is just one of those rivers that holds its mysteries better than most. That is why I like it so much.

Connie Teaches a Lesson

Steelhead are not supposed to be easy to catch. Along with musky and Atlantic Salmon, they are often called the fish of a thousand casts. But the transplanted steelheads that return to the tributaries of the southern shore of Lake Erie can spoil the avid steelheader. While not necessarily easy to catch, they are generally at least easy to find -- particularly when the conditions are right.

Thousands of fish begin to return to the rivers in the fall and large pods of fish can be found holding in pools and runs this time of year.

But on some days, like today, even the Lake Erie steelhead can be elusive. The conditions on Conneaut (Connie to her friends) Creek this morning seemed nearly perfect. The new USGS gauge read just above 200 cfs and was dropping this morning. We arrived at dawn to a river carrying a strong flow and tanic stain from the upstream bogs. Several cars parked along the access in the town of Conneaut (a small town in Northeast Ohio that is far past its prime, but still holds some charm) indicated that several us had the same idea.

We fished about a mile upstream and back. We saw one fish hooked, and rumors of a few others, but that was it. Hiking back I tried the inside portion of a fast run where the river narrowed. On the first drift the line stopped, I set the hook and the fish screamed downstream. The hook popped out before I had a chance to try and turn the fish. After a few hours of fishing without any action, I wasn't ready and paid the price.

We headed upstream and fished a beautiful stretch full of some nice riffles and runs. The scenery was marred by the constant soundtrack of I-90 in the distance.

Several spots looked promising as we walked upstream, but no fish could be seen in the stained water. I spotted a large male at the tale of a run. He spooked, but Jon picked up three fish in the head of that run while drifting a jelly stonefly alongside a rootball. I continued to cast without results.

We hiked upstream more than a mile and only encountered two other anglers. Jon landed one more female hen in a pool. Andy and I just continued to cast. The water never rose about 41 degrees; which may have contributed to the slow fishing.

The Connie hid her fish well today, and taught us that steelhead takes patience, focus and skill. Today there were likely 1,000 casts and not a single fish to show for it. Nonetheless, I have much to be thankful for as we head into Thanksgiving week.

First Fall Silver and Synthetic Fish

From Oct steelhead 2010

October brought the best kind of weather -- cool nights and steady rains -- but I've been traveling a lot and working more, so I haven't had much chance to check out the early runs of the Fall 2010 season. But on Sunday, Anne (armed with camera) and I (armed with Scott 7-weight) decided to head east and explore. We started on the Conneaut River, which I vow to fish more every season. It's been years since I've caught the Conneaut when the flow/timing was right and Sunday was more of the same. The water was low and the flow slight. Only a handful of spots in the two miles of river that I hiked had deep enough runs to hold fish. The Conneaut carries a tanic color in the fall that helps shield the fish from view, and can tend to discourage the angler on an early season scouting trip.

Because Pennsylvania stocks the Conneaut, it is the Ohio river that gets the earliest run of fall fish. Undoubtedly there are steelies in Conneaut already, but I only saw one skipper caught in the morning and all I managed was a single sucker.

The morning started overcast, and it looked like it might rain so I decided to make the drive along Highway 5 and check out the lower Elk in Pennsylvania. As we pulled into the jammed public access lot it became clear that not enough Browns-Steelers fans had decided to tailgate in advance of the game. As I walked down river the fishermen were stacked up, filling every likely spot. Thankfully two anglers exited as I was considering my options and I moved into a deep run that still held a few fish despite the heavy pressure.

On my first cast I hooked a shiny female on a bead-headed brassy and slowly brought her to hand. Oh, if steelheading were always that easy. Anne got some nice pictures of the second fish of the day (by then the sun had come out and the clouds had vaporized). The bright sun made the fish even more skittish and we decided to end the day early.

After lunch at the Avonia Tavern, we checked out the steelhead at Trout Run. It's always a little sad to see hundreds of steelhead stacked up in the small creek trying in vain to find a way upstream to spawn. Trout Run is where the eggs for future stockings are harvested, so for those of us who love the Pennsylvania steelhead run it's a necessary evil.

From Oct steelhead 2010

While it can be fun to watch the fish try to jump the falls, it is also a reminder that there's nothing truly natural about these rainbow trout. As Anders Halverson points out, these truly are a synthetic fish.