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Tangled Lines

When fishing isn’t dreamy and relaxing

Today we’ll talk about how to go quietly crazy while trying to catch native brook trout.
Step One: Forget to bring a spool of 4X tippet.
Step Two: Have somebody steal your shoelaces.
Step Three: Drop your camera on some rocks and watch it bounce into a puddle.
The stream in question is Wachocastinook, aka Riga Brook. It comes out of South Pond on Mount Riga and travels 3 miles and change through a steep gorge, with many deep holes and a nice waterfall along the way.

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Old dog, new tricks on the trout stream

patricks@lakevillejournal.com

I have been reading up on Euro-nymphing.
I realize this phrase lends itself to misinterpretation. The reader may well be wondering if a little box is going to pop up, asking if he or she is over 18.
Fear not. Euro-nymphing refers to a style of fly-fishing that involves long rods, longer leaders and three or more nymphs, a type of fly that is fished under water and represents bug larva.
And if that still gets you hot and bothered, that’s your problem.

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Forget seed catalog, time to take out tackle

It’s March 11. The sun is shining, and at noon it’s about 50 degrees outside.
There are spring training baseball games on the radio. (The Mets are now on WOR, 710-AM.)
The Mount Everest of plowed snow in my yard has shrunk to the size of a minor Matterhorn. The chipmunks are back. I expect a sighting of the albino skunk who lives under my living room any minute.
What does this mean?
It means it’s time to dig out the fishing tackle and have a look.

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Reminiscing about flies gone by

patricks@lakevillejournal.com

The best trout I caught in 2013 was on the Neversink River in Claryville, N.Y. People I know actually own the pool where the east and west branches of this legendary river come together. The 20-something-inch brown that finally took my plain Jane ordinary mid-gray wet fly was hanging around just downstream in a series of deep holes created by rip rap installed by the homeowner to keep the house from washing away.
This might sound like bragging. Well, it is. The Neversink is heavily posted until you get to public water below the reservoir, and it’s a shame.

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Reminiscing about flies gone by

The best trout I caught in 2013 was on the Neversink River in Claryville, N.Y. People I know actually own the pool where the east and west branches of this legendary river come together. The 20-something-inch brown that finally took my plain Jane ordinary mid-gray wet fly was hanging around just downstream in a series of deep holes created by rip rap installed by the home­owner to keep the house from washing away.
This might sound like bragging. Well, it is. The Neversink is heavily posted until you get to public water below the reservoir, and it’s a shame.

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Ice adds spice to fishing

It snowed last week.
Not very much, but enough to send the weather people on television into their traditional snow panic mode.
One of them always seems to be on the verge of tears no matter what the season, but the onset of winter really brings on the incipient waterworks.
“There’s a cold front (gasp) moving east from Canada (stifled sob) and when it collides with this warm (gulp) air mass now in the Washington, D.C. area, it could bring (stifled sob) UP TO ONE INCH of snow to Connecticut (breaks down completely).”

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No phones but plenty of fish on Esopus

I was on vacation a couple weeks ago. One entire week off, in a cabin in the Catskills with no Internet connection, no cell service and a landline that only works when it’s above 65 degrees outside. Nobody knows why this is. Certainly not Verizon, the alleged phone company in charge of these things.

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No phones but plenty of fish on Esopus

patricks@lakevillejournal.com

I was on vacation a couple weeks ago. One entire week off, in a cabin in the Catskills with no Internet connection, no cell service and a landline that only works when it’s above 65 degrees outside. Nobody knows why this is. Certainly not Verizon, the alleged phone company in charge of these things.

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Hot air balloons and the white fly hatch

I have a grab bag of fishing thoughts today. This is a tactic frequently employed by award-winning fishing columnists to disguise the fact that there really isn’t much to write about.
Item: The other night, in the middle of the famous Housatonic River white fly hatch, I managed to avoid catching a single fish.
The white flies were all over the place, including my personal ear- and nasal-type areas. I had a White Wulff dry fly, coated not only with silicone gel but some highly recommended powder stuff called “Frog’s Fanny.”

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Hot air balloons and the white fly hatch

patricks@lakevillejournal.com

I have a grab-bag of fishing thoughts today. This is a tactic frequently employed by award-winning fishing columnists to disguise the fact that there really isn’t much to write about.
Item: The other night, in the middle of the famous Housatonic River white fly hatch, I managed to avoid catching a single fish.

Full text available to premium subscribers only. Log in or Create an account.

Once you've created an account, you will be given a free 30-day subscription to the site where you can view all content unrestricted. After 30 days, you can extend your account by purchasing a subscription.

If you are already a print subscriber, click here to give us your contact information, and we will confirm your active subscription and give you a password to access the website.