Western New York (Part I)

Oakie Dokie

A salmonoid angler's wet dream takes place in western New York every fall.  It starts with scores of huge salmon descending from the Great Lakes into their tributaries to complete the circle of life by spawning then dying.  On the heels of the decaying salmon, countless brown trout and steelhead (sea-run or, in this case, lake-run rainbow trout) enter these rivers and streams to spawn and to feast on the bounty of freshly deposited salmon eggs.  All the while, hordes of anglers flock to the waterways to capitalize on the incredible opportunity of catching trophy fish in confined places.  That is fall Great Lake tributary fishing in a nutshell.

Tools of the trade: a wide array of 10 and 11-foot fly rods.

Anticipation was high leading up to the early November trip, especially on Tuesday nights when our group convened around vises to factory tie sucker spawn patterns and place orders for plastic egg imitations called TroutBeads.  It had been four years since I last made the six-hour run to western New York, but thankfully two of our five-man crew had been every fall since, so we had a pretty good idea of where we wanted to be and what we needed to do.  Home base for our stay would be a cabin on the shores of Lake Ontario, just a stone's throw away from Oak Orchard Creek, which is highly touted for its impressive brown trout run.  

Only the essentials made the cut in Aaron's overfilled SUV.

In a SUV packed to the brim, Aaron, Kurt and I made the trek through the night with help from coffee and energy drinks.  We arrived on Wednesday morning with an hour to relax before sunup.  On the riverbank, we met Derrick and Tommy who drove up a night early and gave us a solid report of the previous day's action.  First light revealed a river running with ideal flows and water clarity; medium high and slightly stained.  The Oak's good reputation for both salmon and trout fishing draws big crowds, yet a mid-weekday outing is better than a weekend.  In some stretches it can be literally a rod's length from your neighbor on either side. In an attempt to avoid that, we focused on some nice pools resembling water we look for back home and did a decent job of holding them down.  As much as you prepare yourself for a crowded Great Lake tributary, the scene can still make you shake your head at times.  One must remember that there are few other places in the Northeast where you can find fish that large in rivers so small.     

First light in western New York.

Bent rods and anglers lined shoulder to shoulder are common scenes on the Oak.

When it came to fishing style, we were in the minority on Oak Orchard.  Most anglers employed the "chuck-n-duck" method, straight-line nymphing with ample lead, and, to their credit, were very effective.  We nymphed very similarly to how we would of back home, with indicators.  Our basic set up included a long fluorocarbon leader tapered to about 8.5-pound test with a Thingamabobber strike indicator and sufficient split shot above an offering of either sucker spawn or a bead.  Like any type of indicator nymphing, the length of leader and amount of weight necessary below the indicator depended on the water depth and speed.  Both beads and sucker spawn accounted for their fare share of trout throughout the trip, with some color patterns definitely standing out from others. 

Trout food: a King salmon egg (left) and its TroutBead imitation. 

For the most part, we were using 10 or 11-foot "switch" fly rods, which can cast like a two-handed spey rod, yet are light enough to be used one-handed as well.  These long rods made for effortless casts, helping keep our arms fresh during marathon days.  The backbone of the switch rod was another perk when it came to fighting large trout in tight quarters.  A good net and competent people to wield it were also very important factors on this trip.  We all got our cracks at netting fish for each other and, for the most part, did rather well.  I won't name names, but the biggest steelhead of the trip was lost to an unlucky net job and became the butt of endless jokes that week.  In the end, he made up for it and then some.

Tommy performing a "Snap C" cast with his switch rod. 

The two and a half days of fishing the Oak were great overall.  The action came in bursts, mostly hot mornings and afternoons with a slow pick in between.  The size of the trout landed were impressive but very relative.  If anyone of them was caught in a stream back home, it would have been the biggest deal since sliced bread.  However, on a Great Lake tributary, a five-pound brown trout was hardly raising an eyebrow by the third morning.  Many of the browns were sporting spawning colors and impressive kype jaws that never got old.  Several of the females were fat and laden with eggs.  Although mostly known for its brown trout, we also pricked a decent number of nice steelhead, which are praised for their fighting skills and acrobatics.  

Derrick with a nice hen to start things off. 

This magnificent brown was Aaron's first hookup of the trip.

Not large, but a very pretty female brown.

Kurt cradles one of the many quality browns that swam in from Lake Ontario.

"Open wide"

Tommy was the preferred 'net man' of the trip, but everyone had their share of the task.

My best brown from the Oak.

The beautiful fall foliage was an added bonus to the solid fishing. 

Tommy with another nice Oak Oarchard brown.

This was the only Atlantic salmon of any size caught during the whole trip. 

Showing up to the river on day one with zero sleep led to borderline insanity.

Kurt hoisting up another kype-jawed male.

The most handsome steelhead I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

So far western New York was treating a bunch of Connecticut boys pretty well, but by day three the crowds and stench of decaying salmon had taken their toll.  A group pow-wow led to the decision to move on to greener pastures and we said goodbye to Oak Orchard for final time of the trip.  Little did we know that things were about to get a little more interesting with much larger fish in a stream about half the Oak's size.  

Coming soon...  Part II: Small Water, Big Fish