The Slide Inn

Mike McDonnell fishing the Madison River

At the beginning of the month, I was up in Yellowstone, fishing some of the most famous trout waters of the West.   There are enough miles of trophy trout streams in the area to last one a lifetime.  During the week I was there, I fished the Madison, the Henry's Fork, Grebe Lake, Cascade Lake, Hellroaring Creek, and Slough Creek.  

While fishing these streams, my friends and I stayed at Kelly Galloup's Slide Inn, which is between Last Chance, Idaho and West Yellowstone, Montana.  Slide Inn is also on a prime stretch of the Madison River.  Galloup is a famous streamer fisherman with numerous patented patterns to his credit.  For Virginia fly-fishermen, Galloup has fished Mossy Creek and suggested some killer streamer and terrestrial patterns for our spring creek.  The "Zoo Cougar" and "Wooly Sculpin" in black should imitate the sculpins found there. 

If you are ever out in Yellowstone country, I highly recommend Slide Inn.  Kelly is in the fly shop in the morning to help you select the right patterns and techniques for a successful day.  The cabins are nice and feature good views of the Madison and the neighboring mountains.  The price--$120 a night for a 2 bed cabin with kitchen--is very good as well.  

Adam

The Ethics of Catch and Release

A few weeks ago, the New York Times hosted an online debate on the practice of catch and release.  You can see the article here. At the risk of devolving into abstruse logorrhea--I am an academic after all--there have been several thoughts percolating in my mind about this subject.   First, is my personal history with fishing.  The first time I remember going fishing was when I went on a backpacking trip with my father in the third grade to the Uinta Mountains in Utah.  I carried my small school backpack filled with micro-machines, a sleeping bag, and a spin-fishing outfit.  Looking back at it, Dad must have carried a lot of my stuff.  We went to a small mountain lake where we had a field day catching starved cutthroat trout.   My Dad and his friends kept the fish and we had one of the best meals that I can remember to this day.  

For a long time, this initial trip informed my view towards catch and release.  When fishing just for a day, one should always catch and release trout, because, well, my fishing betters told me it was the right thing to do.  Even now, when I kill a fish, I can see Larry Barriger (a family friend and expert fly fisherman) shaking his head.   I remember being told that the practice allowed for bigger fish (better fishing) and a healthier population.  But when backpacking, when you were "catching your dinner," "cook'em' and eat'em"  was perfectly acceptable. 

After reading Mark Anders Halverson's An Entirely Synthetic Fish and edging towards the lunatic fringe of fly-fishing, I have taken a different view.  First, especially when fishing for the average "stocked," non-holdover, trout, fisherman need to be aware of how manufactured their experience is.  Rainbow trout have been bred for "fighting ability" and willingness to take a fly (or bait), then subsequently released into nearly every ecosystem in North America.  Once in the rivers, the fish are generally sterile and dumb, but nontheless destructive to other piscatorial species in the stream.  In the mountain-West, they have been particularly harsh on the native cutthroats that I first caught as a kid.  Without a lengthy deluge into the nature of the "authentic experience," suffice to say that fishing for twelve-inch (the standard size) stocker rainbows just does not appeal to me any more.  I also am dismayed by the private "trout waters" cropping up in the East and parts of the West, where people buy 25-inch hatchery fish and then charge people 250+ dollars for the opportunity to catch a "trophy" sized trout.  So, in terms of stocked trout, I do not think there is a justifiable need for "catch and release," unless a manager or owner is trying to establish a "wild" trout population, described below.  In fact, in many cases, taking the non-native fish is actually healthier for the existing ecosystem. 

Wild trout--as distinguished from native, wild trout--are another matter, one that is more difficult to deal with.  Wild trout are the descendants of fish stocked long ago, in some cases, as many as 100 years ago.  Wild trout are generally healthy, self-reproducing, and discriminating fish in tune with the insects in their environment.  In places that depend on big fish for tourism and that do not have a native trout population, such as the Green River, I think that wild trout should be released.  In areas where wild trout compete with natives, such as in Yellowstone National Park, I think the natives should be preserved. 

In terms of the "ethics" of catch-and-release, i.e. whether catch-and-release fishermen are morally suspect because they are causing pain to animals in exchange for pleasure, I come down firmly on the side that catch-and-release trout fishing is a defensible enterprise.  First, it is an open question whether trout "feel" pain.  There are obviously some animals that do feel and express pain, such as my dog Greeley, and animals that do not, such as bivalves and oysters.  Trout probably fall somewhere in-between, but I feel it is more on the oyster side rather than the dog side.  Second, I feel people critical of "catch and release" fishing are focusing too much on the individual fish rather than the species as a whole.  In countries like Switzerland and Germany, where catch-and-release has been banned, populations of certain species like brown trout may fall with few larger individuals appearing.  It seems that regardless of the effect on the individual fish, it is healthier for the population as a whole if anglers practice catch and release.

Thomas Jefferson Trout--Back to Life

A couple of years ago I started this blog to report on fly-fishing and conservation issues in Central Virginia as well as my own travels. After posting for several months, the project fell by the wayside. What can I say, after working all day on my dissertation, I just did not feel like writing on a blog.

This past weekend, I met up with the good folks at Thomas Jefferson Chapter of Trout Unlimited, located in Charlottesville. Despite being inactive, a number of them said they enjoyed reading my past content and hoped I could post more information in the future. I said yes. The only difference is that the updated blog will feature content and announcement posted by TJTU chapter members in addition to myself.

Tight Lines,

Adam

Fly-Fishing Gurus

Every year in April, the City of Waynesboro Virginia hosts a Fly-Fishing and Wine Tasting Festival.  Nearly all of Virginia's wineries--the good and not-so-good--set up tasting booths for the festival.  Fly tiers, fishing shops, and guides from the East Coast gather under one tent to hawk the latest gear, fly patterns, and travel destinations.  However, various conservation groups are well represented, including Trout Unlimited and the Coastal Conservation Association.  

After three straight years of attending the event, I have discovered that most of the fly-fishermen come on the first day to browse the latest fly patterns and work out casting kings.  Most of them--including myself--ooh and ah at the presentation of the Alaska Voyage, but blanch at the price of $5,000 per-week.   The second day is filled almost entirely people attracted to the wine-tasting, some to enjoy the wine, others to get drunk.  All in all, a pretty good time.  

This year, a good friend and I attended a casting clinic by Bob Clouser.  For those unaware, Mr. Clouser is the inventor of the Clouser minnow, a yellow and green minnow pattern used for everything from bass to sailfish.   The method of casting he teaches emphasizes linking the shoulder and arm together when casting to develop more power with ease.  To me, it seemed more suitable for salt water, but watching Clouser cast 100 feet in less than 10 seconds was pretty amazing. He also has become a bit of a celebrity amongst fly fishermen.  One of the students in our class exclaimed, "Bob is just so amazing, this class has changed my life."  My friend said, "well, the class was nice, but this guy must have not done much previously." 

Waynesboro's goal with all these activities is to make the local South River a major fly-fishing destination.  Unfortunately there are a number of problems with this idea.  First, to put it mildly, the South River is an "urban fishery."   There is a DuPont Chemical Plant on the river responsible for mercury contamination.  The water also has a disgusting smell to it that stays on your waders and boots for weeks.   Second, the local population is decidedly hostile to fly fishers.  People yell shit at you from the bridges.  There are also homeless people under the bridges who have been known to chase fly-fishermen into the water.  One guy I know who fishes there claims that the "hobos don't like to swim."   Third, and most disturbing, Aryan Nation and Klan graffiti decorate concrete walls near the river.  After seeing these, I decided to never fish there again.  While its a noble idea to turn a post-industrial town into a fly-fishing destination, I just do not see it happening.  

The Return

After a couple of months absent from the blogosphere, I have decided to return.  While I do not like making any excuses, April was a busy month for me.  I had the oral examination for my Ph.D in U.S. History.  The exam is two and a half hours of questioning by four professors.  After the exam,  I did some hard-core fishing and as my friend Alex would say, "chillaxing."  

My buddy Adam and I went up to Waynesboro for the Virginia Fly Fishing Festival.  We took a casting class from Bob Clouser, checked out the new gear, new flies, and sampled some wine.  Wine and fly fishing seem a natural, but pretentious, pair.  

 In May, I returned to Salt Lake City for two weeks.  After the obligatory check-in at Western Rivers, I found out that most of the rivers were blown out from runoff.  But my brother Jesse and I had a great time fishing Huntington Creek, a tailwater 3 hours away.  

After returning in June, I started bass fishing in Virginia and in July, I made the annual pilgrimage to the Green River back in Utah.  More on each of these events in posts to come.  For now, enjoy the nice picture of a Green River Brown. 

Obama the Fly Fisher

While campaigning in Montana, Obama expressed interest in fly fishing.  He said, "This is some pretty country.  I think I need to learn fly fishing, get myself some waders."  A local man who held up a "Trout for Obama" sign was ecstatic about the news.  I've always thought that those who enjoy fishing and hunting better protect the resources and the outdoors.  Then again, Dick Cheney is a fly fisherman. 

Conway/Moorman's

This past weekend I had the opportunity of fishing twice, once at the Conway River and once at the North Fork of the Moorman's.  At the Conway, I got some small 6-7 inch brown trout.  An interesting finding considering the rumors that have been going around at this river.  According to local fly shop legend, the Department of Fish and Game removed all the brown trout from this river two years ago in an effort to replenish the native brook trout population.  I brought my findings to local TU President Chubby Damron.  Chubby just smiled, went into his truck and showed me a picture of a 22 inch brown he had pulled out of the Conway.  Apparently the stories of brown trout removal were just rumors. 

The next day I headed up to my usual stalking grounds at the Moorman's River.  A local boy scout completed an Eagle Scout Project by improving streamside access and building a mulch path leading to the river.  The path will help handicapped people access the fishing at Trout Unlimited events and saves some bushwhacking through briars.   The North Fork was fishing very well this weekend.  I fished downstream, swinging olive wooly buggers to pick up some very nice brook trout.  I caught the largest one yet in the stream, a nice 12-incher.  May not sound like much, but a 12 inch brook trout in one of these mountain streams is a veritable monster.  The reservoir at the bottom of the Moorman's also had great fishing.  I picked up several nice brookies on wooly buggers.   Sorry, no pictures.  I was fishing by myself!