Monday, December 24, 2012

Twas the night before Fishmas

Twas the night before Fishmas, when all through the drought

Not a creature was stirring, not even a trout.

The creels were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Salmon would soon be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their cots,
While visions of fish danced in their thoughts.
And mamma in her‘kerchief, and I in my vest,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s rest.

When out on the lake there arose such a splash,

I sprang from the bed to hear the next crash.

Away to the window I flew like a midge,

Tore open the shutters and looked out at the ridge

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature skiff,and eight rainbows like a mirror.

With a little old guide,so lively and spry,

I knew in a moment it must be the old sockeye.
More rapid than steelhead his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Artic! now, Grayling!now, Atlantic and Rainbow!

On, Brook! On, Brown!on, Chinook and Coho!

To the top of the porch!to the top of the wall!

Now swim away! Swim away! Swim away all!"

As white foam that before the wild river runs,
When they meet with the surface, they munch on the duns.
So up to the waterfall the coursers they flew,
With a skiff full of gear, and St Salmon too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the tin
The flipping and flopping of each little fin.

As I drew in my head,and was turning around,

Down the chimney St Salmon came with a bound.

He was dressed all in red and green, from his kype to his tail,
And his scales were all tarnished with sea kale.
A sling of gear he had flung on his back,
And he looked like an angler,just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled!his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The hook of a fly he held tight in his teeth,

And the hackle it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round slick,

That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of aspic!

He was chubby and plump,a right jolly old fish,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of my wish!

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his fin aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his skiff,to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all swam like a ballistic missile.

But I heard him exclaim,‘ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Fishmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

Happy Holidays 
From Troutdoors

Friday, December 21, 2012

Best of Troutdoors 2012

Compilation of the videos created of the fly fishing adventure that happen this year and last year. The events consist of fly fishing the Rockies, Roscoe NY, White Mountains, and for bass on local ponds. A somewhat of a busy year.

Best of Troutdoors 2012 from Troutdoors on Vimeo.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

3 days, 2 Hatches, 1 Town, Roscoe

            When it comes to fly fishing in the spring the best place to go in the northeast is Roscoe NY. The fly-fishing capital of the world. Last spring I went to Roscoe in mid May this year with my best friend and his dad for a fly fishing trip. We stayed there for three days and fished the Beaverkill River for its trout.
The trip started with going with my best friend to visit college he’s going to UCONN with his family. We walk around the campus and took a tour of the school and saw all the different programs. We both thought it was boring as hell, I’ve only been there once and this was his fourth time he visited there. We finished the day off by going to the dairy farm on the campus and getting ice cream, standing in line for forty five minutes for ice cream it better be good. But it wasn’t much better than Kimball’s Farm ice cream in Westford MA. After our ice cream we finally left the UCONN to go to Roscoe NY.
We got to Roscoe that night after visiting UCONN. During the night we found a large salmon fly crawling around inside the motel. We let the salmon fly outside and we found mayflies on the walls outside. My best friend and I got excited both thinking dry fly fishing. The next morning we went to fish the Beaverkill River right behind the motel we stayed in. We didn’t have any luck behind the motel. We went eat lunch at the Buffalo Zach’s café, I ordered a Monte Cristo Panini. We then went to the Beaverkill Angler to get some flies, other fly fishing stuff, and ask them where we should go to fish. We went to Hendrickson’s pool that’s where they told us to fish and we caught nothing, we decided go to a spot called the Y pool. We caught a few brown trout. And that’s how we finished that day.
The next morning we tried Hendrickson’s pool again and we caught nothing. We went other spots on the Beaverkill River and we still caught nothing. We went for lunch at a diner and I ordered the same thing a Monte Cristo sand which. After lunch we went another fly shop called the Catskills flies and he recommend that we try the Upper Delaware River for some rainbow trout. We went were he recommended on the Delaware River on the border of PA, yet still we caught nothing, that evening we went to the same place that evening and we caught more brown trout at the Y pool.
The next morning we went to the same spots and we tried further down stream. We decided to head back to town to get lunch. We had pizza for lunch and we decided to go to a section of river we have not yet fished. As we fished that section of river my best friend and I both caught brown trout that were sixteen inches long. I caught mine on a caddis dry fly and my best friend caught his on a may fly. Just so that we could catch more fish we went to the Y pool again but this time we caught nothing. That how we finish our trip was that day of catching the sixteen inch brown trout.
Here's a video of the trip

3 Days, 2 Hatches, 1 Town, Roscoe from Troutdoors on Vimeo.