Ramblings of a Catskill Flyfisher

Where have all the trout gone?

When I was a fisheries biologist, actually conducting stream surveys, it was not uncommon for members of the local sportsmen’s clubs to question some of our management policies and regulations. One of the questions I was confronted with the most had to do with the numbers and sizes of trout, or the lack thereof, in the streams we were managing.

Butterflies, blue jays and katydids

It happens every year at this time, right aound the beginning of August. That’s when the first monarch butterflies show up at camp. They float along on the warm afternoon breeze, looking for a last bloom with a bit of nectar, in order to refuel before they undertake the long journey that will eventually lead to Mexico. At least it will for those that survive that arduous and difficult trip.

A tribute for Bert

I don’t know exactly when I met Bert Darrow, other than to say it had to be sometime in the very late 1960s or very early ‘70s.

The trico hatch

One does not hear a lot of talk about the midsummer emergence of our tiniest of mayflies, the diminutive species we commonly call tricos. At least I don’t. Is that because I’m just so far …

The old guard

We met at the camp the other day; it was mid-July. There was ample sunshine and a cooling breeze. Not too warm for this time of year. We were four, the last of seven; the other four were gone. We sat round the picnic table, visiting about our old friends, the river, fishing and the lack of fly hatches.

Why a rusty spinner?

We planned to go fishing on June 2, but when the weather report forecast an 85 percent chance of showers for the western Catskills, the trip was canceled. Next morning, when my friend checked in, …