Hot Week on Steelhead Alley

Every spring on Steelhead Alley there is at least one hot week. A week where each riffle and run seems full of steelhead either making their way up from or back to Lake Erie. A week when aggressive males and hungry drop-back females will crash through a riffle to catch up to a swung minnow fly.

This is that week.

This week the steelies carry every color in the rainbow, and a few more, on their bodies. The old fish are black. The
fresh fish chrome silver. Green backs, pink sides, red gills, yellow eyes and white mouths.

This week pods of new fish enter a run every 15 minutes or so. Anglers laugh with joy and give thanks with each new arrival.

This week the fish, powered by warm water temps, leap from the river, sending thousands of tiny water drops into the air. The fish make reel drags sing and 10 foot rods bend into giant capital "Cs."

This week the catching is almost too easy. This week the arm will tire before the sun goes down.

This week makes one almost forget about the frozen feet, iced eyelets and fishless days of December; let alone the iced over rivers of January and February.

This week the wild ramps cover the forest floor. The buds on the trees are beginning to pop. The geese are more aggressive than the steelhead. And the mallards are paired up.

This week likely won't last a full week. But it is hot week. Fish on.

Defending Steelhead Alley

Recently Trout Unlimited named the Lake Erie watershed as one of 10 special places at risk due to "fracking" in the Central Appalachian region. Since no significant fracking is being done in the Lake Erie watershed (yet) reasonable folks can argue with the designation.

But the good news is the announcement prompted Brian Bull, a reporter for ideastream, the Cleveland-based NPR affiliate, to want to learn more about our precious and fragile watershed. A friend connected me to Brian and a few anglers met Brian on the Rocky River this morning to show him a piece of Steelhead Alley. Mike Durkalec, aquatic biologist for the Cleveland Metroparks and author of the weekly fishing report, provided the technical expertise. My friend Terry and I tried to provide a little color commentary.

Brian wasn't equipped to wade -- which is a good thing since he was carrying a digital recorder. But he did walk the bank and demonstrated a high-degree of patience as I took him in search of steel. (I hooked and lost a few; and foul hooked a few more while Brian was with me. Of course, this one came to the bank shortly after he left the river.)

Throughout the morning I tried to put into words how important the fishery is to me and my fellow steelhead fanatics. Fly fishing has long been my best form of mental therapy and the opportunity to catch a steelhead as long as my leg is why I call Northeast Ohio home. More than anything else, it is what has held me here for nearly a quarter century.

While I have decidedly mixed emotions on issues like shale oil and gas drilling, I tried to be clear to Brian that fans of Steelhead Alley need to do more to take care of our land and water. Every property owner along the Lake Erie tribs and regular visitor to our Metro Parks has seen the effects of poorly designed developments and inadequate water drainage systems. When so-called "100-year floods" become annual occurrences, we should all take heed and think more about how and where we build. But issues like storm-water runoff have rarely held our attention. Aldo Leopold's call for a land ethic was prescient but we no more hear his wisdom today than we hear the thumping wings of the passenger pigeon.

Yet, I remain an optimist. I am hopeful that if more of us love our rivers we will do more to protect them. Yes, a consequence will also be that more anglers will crowd our rivers. But the only way that I can think of to protect Steelhead Alley is to have more people love it. I look forward to hearing how Brian captures this story. And I hope the attention will encourage more people to experience and protect the Lake Erie watershed.

Single-Handed Swing

Spring has finally arrived in Steelhead Alley and that means it's time to swing minnow flies for aggressive males and drop back females. The fish have moved out of the deep holes and into the riffles and gravel runs. While some of the local rivers remained high late last week, the Rocky River was dropping fast. On Friday morning before work, I opted to swing with the single-handed 10 foot rod Thomas & Thomas using a simple marabou minnow fly that has become my "go to" fly when the water is clear.

While there weren't as many fish as I expected, a few could be seen in the shallows, and a few more were making wakes as they moved up into the flats. The sun wasn't yet over the east ridge when the first steelhead hit the fly on the swing and went tearing downstream. I chased after and managed to land it in slow water up against the bank. The two-foot plus long fish held in the slow current in front of my feet for about 30 seconds after being released. I stood over her, admiring the natural tatoos on her back. Eventually she moved into the main current and swam off.

A bit later a smaller, but similarly spirited fish picked up the fly as it swung through the deepest part of the run. I managed to get downstream of the fish, kneeled in the shallow riffle and eased him to my hand. His pink cheeks glowed in the morning light. I removed the hook from the corner of his mought and he splashed me with his broad tail as he hurried off to resume his business.

Some mornings are better than others. This was a good one.

Tube Triumph

Tube flies have been around for a long time, but over the last five years or so they've become much more popular on Steelhead Alley and this past fall I finally succumbed to buying a kit and started tying my own. I decided to try out the tubes even though two store-bought versions failed to produce a single strike. I was won over after a day of instruction and fly tying by Jeff Liskay. We tied up a sample fly at the end of the day and it was much simpler than I anticipated. Of course, that fly also has failed to produce a strike. Rick Kustich's new book,  also provided ample of reason to give tube flies a try.

I've tied up several this fall and winter and have tried them sparingly. All anglers prefer to use flies they have confidence in. Sometimes that confidence is based on experience and sometimes it's based on intuition. Before today I lacked confidence in the tube fly.

The water was running a brownish green on the Rocky River about noon as I walked up to the river. Conditions looked perfect for a dark marabou streamer behind some T-11 sinking line. I resisted the temptation to tie on an articulated intruder fly and instead tied on a black and purple marabou fly with a cone head in front. One of the appealing characteristics of tub flies is that you can add cone heads simply by slipping the cone on the line before tying on the fly. The cone rides down the leader and rests on the front of the tube. It's an easy way to add (and remove) weight.

I assumed I would need the extra weight to get the fly down in the heavy current. I had the pool to myself except for two geese hanging out at the head. A large hawk that squawked from the sycamore tree took off in search of rodents. Water tumbled down the 60 foot cliff, providing a constant soundtrack as I double-spey cast my way through the run. I was beginning to wonder about my fly choice when a hard strike caused by spey rod to jerk and the reel to scream. The strong female steelhead skated across the surface as I tried to tighten the drag. She then ran fast straight up stream, forcing me to reel up line as fast as possible. After a hardy fight she came to shore with the tube fly stuck in the side of her mouth.

A few drifts later a second steelhead struck the tube. And after moving downstream, two more fish hit a pink and white tube fly. Yep, tubes work. It will be a little harder to pick which fly to use next time I'm on the river. That's a good problem to have.

New Season, New River

Every summer Mother Nature remodels the rivers that feed into Lake Erie providing new places for steelhead to hang out during their runs upstream. Sometimes the changes are subtle. For example, a pocket at the end of pool on the Rocky River under a tree shifted downstream about five feet.  Once I figured out that change, two fresh fish quickly came to the bank. I expect the fish liked it when the pocket was farther upstream and the tree provided more protection from anglers.

Sometimes the changes are dramatic. Heavy floods washed a lot of gravel out of prime holding spots on Elk Creek leaving nothing but flat shale bottom behind. Long stretches of flat shale are like fish deserts. There is no gravel or boulders to create pockets or breaks for the fish to get out of the current. Stretches that once held dozens of fish are now barren. Perhaps somewhere downstream there are new holding spots filled with gravel from upstream. If those spots exist I haven't found them yet.

Searching for a Swing Partner

Swinging flies at dawn is always more fun with a partner. The partner must be willing to give a tug. This morning the best I could generate was a bump and more than likely that bump was generated by a rock. Rocks can't tug and they certainly don't dance.

The river level on the Rocky was about perfect as the sun rose behind me. Suspended silt in the water gave it a light brown hue and an occasional maple and oak leaf drifting by added some splash of color. A great blue heron let out a blood-curdling shriek before trying to land on the cliff in front of me. Mallards drifted by before flying by. About three quarters of the way down the long pool a fish splashed. It was a big enough splash to be a steelhead, but it could have been a bass or even a sucker.

This was my first outing for steelhead in the fall of 2012. I never expect to catch anything my first time out. And I increased the odds against me by using the spey rod. I changed flies and sink tips until I could get a swing that didn't catch on the shale bottom. With no dance partner available I focused on improving my double spey cast. The practice will come in handy because soon there will be more potential partners in the rivers of Steelhead Alley.

Evening Delight

Conference-call over. Waders on. Water low. No fishermen. Quiet pool. Sun setting. Hooked steelhead. Screaming reel. Leaping trout. Male beached. Hooked nose. Hook removed. Fish released. Heading home. More work.

Why Pink is My Favorite Color

The steelies were fresh and pink today on the Rocky River. The fishing picked up in mid-afternoon. The fish enjoyed a simple white minnow fly today more than egg flies. A lot of minnows were cruising in the shallows, enjoying the sunshine.

The fish were stacked up in the tail of a big pool, some in the slower water, and some in the heart of the flow.

February has been particularly kind to steelheaders so far this year. Let's hope it stays this way.

Big Steel

First fish of February

The tape measure told the tale -- 31 inches long. The dark, pink-striped steelhead caught today is the biggest fish I've taken from the Rocky River in several years. The male's tail was as broad as my hand is long. He used that tail many times to try and avoid coming to shore. He leaped from the water at one point, but his heft kept him from catching too much air. The small, white egg fly was firmly stuck in the roof of his mouth, allowing me to land him after a fierce fight.

A couple who had just arrived at the hole were kind enough to snap my picture with the beast. A goofy smile, but a beautiful fish.

The woman promptly landed her first steelhead ever on a chartreuse spawn sack. The 30-inch female spit eggs as she proudly held it up for her partner to get a picture. The woman jumped up and down with glee, whispering "I caught a fish." Wonderful to see another angler get hooked on steel fever.

One Fish, Spey Fish

Not the best shot, but it will do.

The head shake brought the 12’ 6’’ spey rod to life. The tip bounced up and down as the steelhead pulled against the pressure. The leverage provided by the extra long fly rod gave me a much larger advantage than the standard 10-footer, and after a few runs and rolls on the surface, the five-pound fish came to the bank. A six-inch-long black articulated leach fly with silver flash hung from its lower lip.

The steelhead was the first fish of 2012, and the first fish hooked on a swung fly this season. I’m still less than a beginner with the spey rod, which I bought a few years ago at the annual banquet of the Trout Club of the Cleveland Natural History Museum, . One lesson with Will Turek, a few years back taught me that spey casting is dramatically different, but not exceptionally difficult. About one of out of five casts today were respectable. The rhythm of creating a good anchor and using the lower hand to do more of the work improved slowly.

I’m still developing a sense of where the fly is as it swings through the pool. The high water required me to wade deeper than I’d like to get the fly into the heart of the run. The 35-degree water pulled the head out of my body and made concentrating on the casting more difficult. But a steelhead on the end of the line will always warm you up. The steelhead hit about 20 minutes into fishing the long pool. No other fish would show themselves in a little more than two hours of swinging flies through the pool and the run below it.

Swinging big flies usually doesn’t produce as many fish as dead-drift nymphing, but it’s a fun change of pace and hopefully I’ll continue to progress with the spey rod this spring.

Old Spot Made Anew

After spending much of December away from the rivers, I had a few hours free this morning to visit one of my favorite spots on the Rocky River and was surprised to see the changes that Mother Nature had wrought. The tail end of the pool, which used to push up against the far 100-foot-high shale wall now cut right down the middle of the river channel. From a distance I could see new boulders sticking up in a wide chute that carried the water out of the pool. Gone was the narrow channel that occasionally held fish, but mostly just ate up flies.

The narrow channel was filled in by tons of rock -- all of which had come cascading down the cliff sometime over the last three plus weeks. The altered flow seemed to have deepened and widened the big pool. The chute below will be interesting to fish once spring comes; it looks promising but on the Rocky it is common for promising spots to be neglected by the fish.

With water temps in the high 30s, I guessed that the fish would be in new, wider tail of the pool. They were, as is a small tree 0r perhaps a very large branch. I hooked three, including the 7-pounder above. And hooked the tree a few times, for good measure.

Rivers always change. Time to learn this old spot all over again.

Silent Steel

The water silently flowed through the pool. A squirrel busily chewed threw a nut in the tree behind me. The Waterworks reel spun in reverse as the steelhead headed upstream to the head of the deep pool.

Just another quiet Sunday afternoon on the Rocky River.

Old River, New Spots

Lakes change over decades, rivers change every season. Heavy floods this summer have altered much of the Rocky River west of Cleveland.

So far this fall, I've noticed the following changes along one of my favorite half-mile stretches of the Rocky.

A long slow pool is now at least a foot deeper in the tail as last year. The tail will hold more fish than ever.

A run that used to have two bends in it is now as straight as a ruler. It will be interesting to see if it holds fish like it used to. A visit today would indicate the answer is no, but I will continue to give it a try.

A few new boulders and a broken-up bottom seemed to create a new run in the middle of a stretch of river that has never held a steelhead in the years I've been fishing the Rocky. However, today the run was empty, perhaps next time. It will be worth checking out again.

About 25 yards upstream a small shelf that had previously not been deep enough to hold fish, had broken up over the summer and the heavy floods had carved out a 3-foot deep run behind the shelf. The new run is fairly short and fast. It cuts tight against the river's west bank. To get the fly down to the bottom of the run, the fly has to be cast upstream onto the bedrock shelf. Today the run held at least one steelhead, which I hooked only briefly.

More changes upstream haven't been explored yet. This is why river fishing is so much fun. Every season on a river is a new experience.

First Ohio Steel of the Fall

Leaves piled up on the surface of the big pool on the upper Rocky River. The current through the middle of the pool was barely enough to move leaves from the head to the tail, where many got caught in a slow eddy and were pushed back upstream. The flat surface of the pool reflected the shale cliff and the angled sunlight bounced off the waterfall that tumbled down that same cliff.

Steelheaders are optimists and we're more optimistic when the air temps are north of 50 than we are when they are south of 4o. M

ost weekends I wouldn't even bother trying to fish the Rocky when the water flow is down near the century mark. But there aren't many blue sky 50 degree Saturdays in November, so after scouting the pool I decided to put on the waders and drift small flies under a strike indicator through the mid-section and tail of the pool where the water is deepest.

Getting a drift was a challenge as the current often faded leaving the flies stranded on the bottom. I hooked into a silver sucker, and that was quickly followed by a brief head shake from a mystery fish. (Fly fishermen are free to declare a lost fish to be a trout, even though it could just as well be a sucker.) I continued to work the different seams of the wide pool hoping to bump into a steelhead.

I cast almost across the pool, hoping to have the brassie and egg flies drift along the shelf before dropping int

o the deeper part of the run. The strike indicator slowly drifted downstream, barely moving before coming to a complete stop. With a downstream sweep I picked up line and set the hook. A steelhead responded to the hook by splashing on the surface, disrupting the silent pool. A few moments later the fish cartwheeled out of the water and then ran upstream. Because I was using 4X tippet in the clear water, I gently pressured the fish to get it turn back downstream. After a few more runs I was able to land my first Ohio steelhead of the fall season; later than normal but I'll take it.

October Optimism

There is nothing like a beautiful crisp fall morning to get one heart's racing in anticipation of fresh steel. And this morning was about as good an October morning as one could ask for. The pre-dawn sky was filled with stars and void of clouds. The temperature was 54 degrees, according to the car thermometer. The temp dropped nearly 10 degrees as the car dropped into the Rocky River valley.

As the sky lightened I hiked down to the water trying to keep my optimism in check. This was more of a scouting trip than a fishing trip, I reminded myself. Few fish are in the system, despite the wet end to September. And three straight days of bright sunshine and daytime temps approaching the 80s were bound to discourage fish from running upstream. Regardless, I was eager to get my first look at a favorite stretch of the river. Heraclitus observed long ago that one can never step into the same river twice, nor can one fish the same river twice. Rivers change constantly and the Rocky changes more than most. Its soft shale bottom gets scoured by summer floods and large slabs of shale break free, altering the rivers flow and depth.

The big pool I wanted to explore was deeper than the past spring. A long, snaking foam line nearly cut the pool in half its entire length. The October optimism only grew as I tied on a minnow fly and began to explore the pool's new depths. As the sun rose the optimism slowly faded with each uninterrupted drift.

I decided to focus more on exploring the pool and understanding its changes. More fish are on the way. My optimism will be warranted, just not today.

September Steel?

Cool days and chilly nights trigger the biological clocks of Lake Erie steelhead and the clocks are now ticking. Reports that a few early fish had made their way up both the Erie, Pa., streams and the Rocky River in Ohio got me out of bed this morning and on the river.

More anglers than expected joined me in the lower part of the Rocky. I fished a nice run that a few years back produced an early season skip jack. I swung a white streamer hoping for a surprise, but not expecting much more than the chub that attacked the streamer. The Rocky was still full of summer silt and carried the odor from the Lakewood sewage treatment plant.

I tried one more spot and picked up a sucker. I thought I saw a steelhead in one of the runs, but it was just an early season mirage. Nonetheless, it was good to stand in the water, listen to it rush toward the lake, and watch the great blues hunt and the deer drink.

In a few weeks the fishing will be better. I'll be there. But this September will be steel free for me.

Four Days, Five Outings, One Red Fox

The deluge of spring 2011 continues, but we caught a break in the latter half of this week. Steady rains had the main tribs of steelhead alley blown out early in the week, but my I still got to fish on Wednesday. After a day of great meetings in Wooster, I stopped by Apple Creek, a small stream that the local Trout Unlimited club stocks.

Despite the heavy rains, Apple Creek was running clear on Wednesday evening. There was a heavy current and things looked promising. But other than two chubs I came up empty in 45 minutes of fishing. I look forward to returning and fishing the stream more thoroughly.

By Thursday evening the Chagrin River was dropping and fishable. With my wife off visiting the Global One at Ohio University, I took advantage and drove east after work. I fished the barking dog hole (if you know the area around Mayfield Road you know the spot) with one other angler and picked up several nice fish. Most of the fish were very dark, signs that they had been in the river a bit.

Friday morning before work, Rebecca joined me on the East Branch of the Rocky and we hooked into a few fish in the drizzling rain. Hopes for a banner evening on the Rocky fell short, but three of us managed a few fish. On Saturday morning, I returned to the best spot from Friday and enjoyed a morning of solitude and steelhead. For a few hours I had the river to myself. My only company was a red fox that emerged from the woods to walk about a quarter of the way up the 100 foot-high shale cliff. The fox headed downstream walking along the cliff wall as if it were a hiking trail. At one point I was certain he'd have to turn back, but somehow he kept from falling off the cliff and scampered along. He must have had some velcro on his feet, or perhaps was part mountain goat. About 40 yards downstream he turned to look at me and stood on the cliff without moving. I wish I could have taken a picture, but I had my hands full. The fox showed up just as I hooked a steelhead.

The fishing was great, the catching would have been better if not for three large trees that dropped off the cliff and into the river a few days ago. The steelhead have already learned to run for the trees when hooked. More on the trees and the steelies that use them to escape later on.

Steelhead Countdown

The calendar says mid-April, but the fish log is pretty much empty this steelhead spring. So that means the count-down to the end of the steelhead season causes a little more anxiety than normal as I try to make up for a winter of discontent and a spring of disappointment.

Each day that passes with the waders sitting unused in the back of the fish-car is a another day closer to when all of the steelhead return to their summer home of Lake Erie. I can handle summer without steelhead, but only because I overdose on the steelhead drug all spring. So far this year I’ve barely been able to scratch the itch.

Tonight, at last, I found a few fish in the lower Rocky River and landed a beautiful, silver 30-inch female that was hanging out in a deep run behind gravel. As she used the strong current to put an arc in the 10 foot Scott fly rod, I savored the moment, but also wondered how many more days of fishing we’d enjoy this spring.

Such is the lame life of a steelhead addict.

Year-End Steel and Ice

The year ended with unseasonably warm temperatures, which made a lot of folks eager to get one more fishing outing in before the calendar flipped. The air temp was 46 degrees as I headed north to the Rocky River before dawn.

The thaw hadn't yet melted the ice on the upper river, but the lower Rocky was pretty open. A few sheets of ice clinging to the bank allowed for the opportunity to not only walk on water, but also float downstream. To the right is Tim as Huck Finn riding an ice raft to parts unknown.

The fishing was expectedly slow. Water temps were just above freezing. The flow was perfect and the water was green in the deeper runs. Shortly after starting I foul hooked a skip jack. About an hour later a big, red striped male inhaled a green, soft hackle nymph that I just started tying. He put up a hearty fight in the cold water, occasionally running under the shelf ice against the far bank. Eventually he ran the line around a branch submerged in the river. I was able to get downstream of the branch to try and clear the line, but my line got snagged up in old fishing line twisted around the branch. The steelhead broke off. In frustration I pulled the large branch out of the river and found a few hooks, a nest of tangled line, about 10 split shot (someone really wanted to get down...) and two spawn bags wrapped around the branch.

Done in by debris.

We didn't see any other fish caught. And two pin fishermen said they only moved one fish.

Regardless, it was still a great morning on the water, and hopefully the weather foreshadowed a mild start to 2011.

Spey Sucker

The lack of rain gave me an excuse to break out the spey rod and practice some casting on the Rocky River. I was too lazy to make the trek to the Grand River, perhaps the only river with enough water to make it worth fishing.

Casting went better than expected considering I hadn't cast the rod in several months. Hopefully there will be some real rain sometime soon and we'll get the long-awaited fall run of fish.

The lack of water today left the steelhead nowhere to hide and they chose the lake over the river.

I was surprised mid-morning by a small sucker, which hit the minnow fly. Not what I was hoping for, but it was a fish nonetheless.