Category Archives: Trip Reports

Gunpowder River, Hunt Valley MD

July 11-13, 2017

Through the years I have had so much east coast business travel.  I had totally given up on finding a river within driving distance of DC that support wild trout and is fishable year round.  The area gets hot and the rivers that are within striking distance like the Rose and those in West Virginia flow low and warm in the summer and many of them close.

Another nice brown from the Gunpowder River....with a bullethead skwalla sticking out of his face.

Another nice brown from the Gunpowder River….with a bullethead skwalla sticking out of his face.

Well, when the world famous Harmon Cabins on the North Fork South Branch Potomac River told me no way in July I almost gave up.  That would have been a 2.5 hour minimum drive from DC.  I just couldn’t look outside that radius.  It would have been too much.  2 months before my trip, I totally lucked out on an internet search and found the Gunpowder River in Maryland.  The Gunpowder River is a tail water that supports reproducing trout (Browns, Rainbows, Brooks).  Most of the river is not stocked; it doesn’t need to be.  The Gunpowder runs cool all summer long because of a “below dam” release.  The river is small, but even in low flow there are many spots where the river is not crossable.

It’s located in Gunpowder Fall State Park, which is a public recreation area comprising six non-contiguous areas covering 18,000 acres in northeastern Baltimore County and western Harford County, Maryland.  The area is absolutely beautiful.  And low flows of summer means easy wading, but a stealthy approach and long casts will reward you.

After finding the Gunpowder River on the internet, another targeted internet search yielded Backwater Anglers fly shop located just outside the park border.  I immediately contacted them and arranged for a guide for me alone on Wednesday and then for my buddies Tom and Loren on Thursday.  I got a reservation at a cheap local hotel in the Hunt Valley and started to get excited.  I was going to play hookie from work for a couple days and fly fish.  It was an 11 day business trip so, I wasn’t feeling too guilty about doing it since I work the early mornings, nights and both weekends anyways.

The Gunpowder River

The Gunpowder River

Well in DC, on Tuesday my keynote demo went really well and my afternoon meeting postponed.  I looked at my watch, 2pm.  And that is when I decided to try to beat the traffic out of DC and make it to the river for a couple hours to catch the evening hatch.  It was slightly tricky figuring out where to park my rental car, but with a little research, I found the closest place to the fly shop.  It was a huge paved parking lot and the State Park signs identified it.  But, there was no guard shack to take my money.  I wondered if I was in the right place.   It was.  I walked the trail down to the river and was the only sole there.  I stepped into the river and as I was slowly getting into position I saw a rise.  My first cast produced a 8” brown.  I knew it was going to be a good evening session.  When I staggered out of the river a couple hours later I had landed ~15 fish and easily lost twice that.  It was getting dark by the time I exited the river; the fireflies let my path back up the trail. “Tomorrow, guided, “ I said to myself, “was going to be a good day.”


My guide, Gene Howson from Backwater Anglers is a 27 year old Scotsman.  With that Scottish accent he sounded so old on the phone.  I was a bit surprised he is so young.  Gene suggested an early start, 630am because of the weather; hot and humid.  I’m glad he did.  We did well.  Gene took me to a lot of places.  When we first entered the river there was a mist that gave it kind of an eerie feel.  I had not fished in the East in so long I forgot about that mist.  We didn’t see a single other angler.  We caught a lot of fish, but it definitely shut down mid day just like Gene predicted.

Gene Howson, Backwater Anglers Crossing the river through the mist

Gene Howson, Backwater Anglers Crossing the river through the mist

The next day Gene took all four of us to another new spot on the river.  This place was the most beautiful of all.  It was in a canyon and took a hike down to the water.  I took my high school buddy Dan Cerniglia with me.  I hadn’t seen dan in a couple years.  We got into a habit of fishing at least once a year together, but when he went back to American Airlines to fly 737s his schedule became unpredictable.  I totally lucked out that my trip to DC was on a couple days when dan was off.  Gene lead Tom and Loren, my buddies from the msft .net partner advisory council.  It was such awesome trout water.  But it was slow.  Still a totally fun day.  and we did burn some calories.

Dan Cerniglia, keeping that tight loop while smoking a cigar

Dan Cerniglia, keeping that tight loop while smoking a cigar

I have been studying solunar theory for over a year.  I have disproven it numerous times by getting skunked on good solunar days…and the exact opposite, killing on days that should have been poor fishing.   Solunar theory basically says animals are more active when the sun and moon are closest to the earth.  Anyways, I did look at the scoring (I used an app called “Fishing and Hunting Solunar Time” )  and the scoring for Tuesday (out of 100) was 64, Wednesday was 33, And Thursday was 13.  That would explain why Tuesday afternoon / night I did so well.  And it was slower Wednesday and really slow Thursday.

The gang: me, Dan Cerniglia, Tom O'Connell and Loren Goodman

The gang: me, Dan Cerniglia, Tom O’Connell and Loren Goodman

All in all I fished 4 different locations on the Gunpowder and found every type of water: runs, pocket water, pools, riffles, tail-outs, heads, steep canyon water and water falls.  The fishing was really good at times and challenging at times.  I caught a lot of brown trout.   I even had a sucker rise on me.  Nothing huge….although I bet the Gunpowder has some exceptions.  Most of the fish I caught went 4” to 14”.

It’s a beautiful place.  I can’t wait to get back.

If you are on a trip in the DC area I strongly suggest you contact Gene Howson of Backwaters anglers.  He’s a great guide and a great kid.  Contact Gene by phone at 410-357-9557 or by email


Upper Kern River – Forks of the Kern Trailhead

August 25-28, 2016

Me and Mike Gilroy ready to attack the Forks of the Kern Trail

Me and Mike Gilroy ready to attack the Forks of the Kern Trail

I met Mike Gilroy at the June 2016 meeting of the San Diego Fly Fishers Group.  He was a new member of the group and it was his first meeting.  We immediately became friends.  He’s a lifelong hunter and fly fisherman.  His story was that he just retired and moved to the seemingly barren fly fishing opportunities of San Diego from the plentiful fly fishing opportunities of Seattle area.  My takeaway was that his wife wanted to retire to a warmer climate.  You can’t fault her for that.  I did my penance up in Redmond, WA for a year serving Microsoft.  The sun never came out that year (97/98); Never.  It is true.  There is an abundance of fly fishing opportunities up in the Seattle area year round.  I always carry a fly rod up there when I visit Microsoft.  Mike was a little bummed when he described having to move away from all the fly fishing opportunities in Washington.  That is when I told him about the Upper Kern River.

One of the many Kern River Rainbow's that MIke battled to hand

One of the many Kern River Rainbow’s that MIke battled to hand

I told Mike about battling the “badest”, biggest trout in the world.  That the Kern River Rainbow is its own species and we’d have a chance at Goldens and “Gold-bows” too.  And I told Mike how you have to earn it by backpacking in to them.  Well, Mike is like me.  He took that to heart and committed immediately.  Because of my travel schedule I set dates more than 2 months in the future.  But, I had always wanted to fish the upper Kern in August and never afforded the chance because it gets hot in August; really hot.  And I could never get anyone to go with me at that time of year.  And Mike did commit.  He started training immediately with hikes.  He trained the entire time.  I trained too, but at one point I was a bit worried about a 6’5” guy north of 65 kicking my ass on the trail.  So I trained pretty hard too and although I didn’t drop that 15 I need to, I did get in really good cardio shape.  As you’ll read later I needed it.

On the 1100 foot decent into the canyon to get to the Upper Kern River

On the 1100 foot decent into the canyon to get to the Upper Kern River

I had already been to the Upper Kern over the Forks of the Kern trail twice this summer so I knew we’d see really good river conditions (low).  And that meant the chance at good Huck-Hopper fishing.  I cannot tell you how many pictures I have taken over the years of a big Kern River Rainbow with a Huck Hopper hanging out of its face.

We did a lot of planning.  Mike came over to the house and I showed him all the stuff I was putting in my backpack and told him how I hoped to be under 45 pounds.  I should have emphasized it.  I told Mike that it usually takes me less than 45 minutes to lose the 1100 feet in 2 miles to get to the crossing of the Little Kern River.   Mike set expectations with me that he would take a lot longer than that; not a problem.

Mike and I were going to meet at the Lower Peppermint Campground which is just 15 minutes short of the trailhead.  I have painstakingly created detailed directions and guidance to the Forks of the Kern that I provide to anyone who emails me.  And they do quite a bit after internet searching and stumbling into this blog.  Mike was going to travel north to fish the Kings river a couple days early and camp out of his truck.  The plan was that he’d find and camp at the Lower Peppermint campground during the day Thursday and I’d drive Thursday night hoping to get there before 12AM.  But, I got the panicked call from Mike early Thursday, “They closed the road because of the Cedar Fire.”   I told him not to give up just yet.  Mike was trying to get to the campground from the western entrance which goes right though the fire.  I called the Kern River Ranger station and they told me the roads from the south were still open…”…for now.”.  So, Mike did the long detour all the way down to Bakersfield and back up through Kernville.  But, he called me again from Kernville.  “The fire is bad here.”  I had been tracking the fire all day on and the other governmental fire tracking sites.  It wasn’t really close, but it was pushing towards Kernville.  Mike was seeing the smoke.  I told Mike to go on in.  It’s another 1.5 hours to the campground/trailhead from Kernville in a Northern Direction.   Way North of the fire.   I knew he’d be fine.  The problem is there is no cell signal North of Kernville so I knew we wouldn’t be able to communicate.  What I didn’t realize was what I’d run into a good 12 hours later when I got to Kernville that night.

The Kern River Rainbow as shot by my Olympus Tough T2 camera

The Kern River Rainbow as shot by my Olympus Tough T2 camera

I left Carlsbad at 7pm as planned to avoid the traffic when plowing through LA.  As I drove up the Kern Canyon from Bakersfield I had to pull over numerous times for fire trucks to pass me.  “hmmm…” I said to myself.  I wasn’t as worried about them not letting me through as I was leaving Mike stranded in a place he never had been before with the thought of him backpacking by himself.  As I pulled into Kernville it was Armageddon.  I could see flames at least 30 feet high to the West.  I said to myself, “My God.”.  But, I was still more worried about the road closing and stranding Mike.  Thank God I made it through.  I learned later they closed the road behind me the following day.  But, only for 24 hours.  That was long enough to prevent my buddy Grant from making it through, though.  He never did join us.  We didn’t know then we practically had the Upper Kern River to ourselves.  I pulled in just after 12am and found Mike’s truck in my favorite site easily.  I was asleep within 15 minutes of turning off my ignition.

Friday morning Mike and I said hellos, described our journey and soon our trucks were headed for the trailhead.  At the trailhead I couldn’t smell any smoke, but there was a haze in the air.  Mike weighed his pack at the trailhead and it was over 50 pounds.  “Hmmm…”  I told him there had to be something he could offload.  He maintained there was not.  That ultimately turned out to be a mistake, but much of the most important things I have learned about backpacking were from my many mistakes.

The Little Kern River Crossing

The Little Kern River Crossing – with a rope tied across to help

We hit the trail together by 830AM and it was nice and cool.  It did take a while for us to get to the Little Kern crossing; longer than I had ever done it.  but, Mike’s a big guy and a stud at 65.  I kept telling myself (and Mike), “I hope I’m still doing this at 65.”   After the little Kern crossing Mike needed a rest.  This is where I made my first mistake.  I should have emphasized (instead of just giving him the option) of finding the closest primitive camp site right there.  But, Mike was hell bent on making it to the Huckaby site that day.  And that next 2.2 miles in the heat was very physical for Mike.  With ¾ mile to go I told Mike I was going to charge forward to make sure the Huckaby site was open and double back.  Thank God it was open.  Upon doubling back I offloaded a few things from Mike to make him lighter and we made it to the site after 4+ hour very physical journey for him.  Finally at the site he took his shirt off to cool off.  “What the hell is that sticking out of your chest?” I asked.  “My defibulator.” He joked.  “What?!”.  He had a pacemaker and had by-passes and heart surgeries in his past.  Now, I was feeling really badly for almost killing him on that hike!

Half of the trip accomplished at the Little Kern RiverHalf of the trip accomplished at the Little Kern River

Mike rested a bit and I partially set up camp.  But, I was dying to fish, so I rigged up a huck-hopper dropper, walked up 100 feet to the tail out that is at the top of the site and within 5 casts hooked up with a nice 14” Kern River Rainbow that battled me all the way down to Mike.  We kept that one and ate it for dinner.

Everyone seems to love the taste of trout except for me.  To me they taste like they eat bugs; becuase they do

Everyone seems to love the taste of trout except for me. To me they taste like they eat bugs; becuase they do

My battle sent the adrenaline through Mike, causing him to rig up.  He soon landed a really nice Kern River Rainbow right in front of the site.

Mike with a nice Kern River Rainbow caught right in front of the "infamous" Huckaby primitive camp site

Mike with a nice Kern River Rainbow caught right in front of the “infamous” Huckaby primitive camp site

Right after that is when Mike found the best treasure in the history of my hiking in there: Two Coors nestled nicely in the river.  Since Mike doesn’t drink I got them both!  How awesome is a cold Coors on a hot day on the Upper Kern?!

Another new first for me on the Forks of the Kern Trail: a beer

Another new first for me on the Forks of the Kern Trail: a beer

We continued fishing and setting up camp never wandering far from the site and we did well.  We turned in early; I mean really early both because of exhaustion and because the rangers invalidated my fire permit.  No fires in the golden trout wilderness on this trip.  Which is a total drag because having a campfire riverside is one of the best parts of this trip.  It’s a shame us responsible folks have to suffer for the ways of the ignorant.

A view of the tailout at the upstream end of the camp site.

A view of the tailout at the upstream end of the camp site.

The next day (Saturday) we fished up river for the first half of the day.  We did well too.  It wasn’t crazy good; I was having trouble getting fish to rise to my hopper and there were no bugs of significance in the air.  But, we were catching fish regularly on nymphs.  And the best part was that the river was tame enough for me to cross in a few places.  That meant Mike and I could fish together, him on the “right handed side” of the river and me on the “left handed side” as we marched up river a mile and a half or so.

Mike battling his way up to the confluence of Rattlesnake Creek

Mike battling his way up to the confluence of Rattlesnake Creek

It was getting hot and we waded all the way up to rattlesnake creek before we determined it was too dangerous to go on.  That is also where I lost a really nice big rainbow on my hopper.  I hated having to turn back after that.  But, I Did.

For the record i have never seen the Forks of the Kern Trailhead parking lot empty; ever.  and i have been going there a long time

For the record i have never seen the Forks of the Kern Trailhead parking lot empty; ever. and i have been going there a long time

We made the mile and a half back to camp, ate and watered up a bit and fished downriver from the site for the balance of the day.  Mike found a great run and really killed in it.  That pleased me.  We ended the fishing day by dry flying at camp as the sun went down.  We kept one of Mike’s trout this time and ate it along with the backpacking food.  But, without a campfire and the sun down it was in bed early again.

Mike getting deep right in front of the camp site

Mike getting deep right in front of the camp site

Sunday we did a really smart thing.  We broke camp in the morning and backpacked all the way back to the Little Kern, crossed it, then followed it downriver to a site at the confluence of the North Fork (main) of the Kern and the Little Kern River I had always wanted to camp at.  I knew the fishing was really good down there.  This cut in half the big hike out of the canyon the next morning.  But, I was still a bit worried about Mike’s hike out because it is very physical hiking out of that canyon; especially in the heat.  Without setting up my tent or unpacking in any way I hit the run in front of the new site at the confluence and did really well as I worked up stream.  I walked back to camp, gathered up Mike and we worked downstream and I had battle after battle with big fish.  So fun.


Another feisty Kern River Rainbow

Another feisty Kern River Rainbow

As the sun set and we ate our dehydrated back packing food I had accomplished something I had never successfully managed before: We had eaten all the food; we wouldn’t have to carry any out.  But, because of not being able to have a campfire I had to pack out all the trash.  Monday morning came way too soon and I have to admit I was worried about Mike and the hike out.  Without telling him the plan I had already decided I was going to plow out of that canyon as fast as I could unload my pack, and head back down empty to offload some of his stuff into my pack.  I let him get a 15 minute jump on me because he was ready as I scrambled to pack up all my toys.  I was very pleased when I didn’t catch him until he was about 1/3rd of the way up the mountain.  That is when I unveiled my plan to him.  He probably didn’t believe me.  I made it to the truck in 50 minutes, emptied my backpack and headed back down.

I had to ask all my fly fishing buddies what the hell this was.  It fought like crazy and it's huge.  But, alas, it's just a lowly sucker

I had to ask all my fly fishing buddies what the hell this was. It fought like crazy and it’s huge. But, alas, it’s just a lowly sucker

I reached him about 2/3rds up the mountain and we offloaded some of his stuff into mine.  He assured me he was fine.  So I told him I’d was going to plow back up, sun shower, then have a beer while waiting for him.  And that plan would have went great until as I was enjoying my beer I heard a gun shot.  Mike was carrying a gun.  “Damnit!” I said to myself.  So without a pack and a beer in my hand I headed back down again.  I didn’t have to go far before running into him, exhausted.  It wasn’t his gun.  He made it.  What a stud.  Again I hope I’m still doing it at his age.  Great trip; great friend.

Tim and Mike posing in front of the mighty Upper Kern River

Tim and Mike posing in front of the mighty Upper Kern River

Like I really need another annual fly fishing trip…

Like I really need another annual fly fishing trip…  To my wife it seems like i have one every month.  But, I just couldn’t resist when a buddy of mine asked me months ago.  This buddy is Ken Foersch, president of my high School, Crespi Carmelite, an all-boys catholic high school in Encino, CA.  Ken told me this father-son all guys fishing trip in Bishop started with his dad like 30 years ago.  And they have been fishing the lower Owens river every year since.  I told him I’d be happy to teach some of the younger boys how to fly fish.  Little did I know that would be the most fun part of the trip.


Check out the white tips on this typical 12″ brown in the lower owens river

Firstly, I knew that some of my friends in “the club” would be able to help.  I serve in the San Diego Fly Fisher’s club and there was a club trip to bishop just a couple weekends prior.  I got a ton of guidance from my buddies in the club on what to expect.  But, what I didn’t expect to hear is that a few really good fly fishermen from the club did not do well at all.

I did well.  Arguably really well.  I fished it Thursday, Friday and Saturday… I got out of there just in time in the morning yesterday before the huge storm hit.  The wind on the way home was crazy…and mammoth took 4 feet of snow!


So I did the dawn patrol Thursday morning leaving at 4am so I could be on the water in time for the hatch.  The rest of the gang (which I had yet to meet) was not due to show up until that night and I wanted to figure out the river before they got there.

I was also pretty excited to fish a new rod.  I broke my go to 3 Wt. last year and got a ton of guidance from Mark Boname of North Platte River Fly Shop on its replacement.  I ended up buying a Temple Fork Outfitters BVK from the North Platte River Fly Shop.  What an awesome rod!  It casts the dries so well now I want to fish it everywhere.  It weighs only 2.4 Oz!  which makes it perfectly balanced with my super lightweight Lamson reel.  The BVK is a light, fast action rod, but has a soft sensitive tips.  So, it’s easy to cast like a fast action rod, but the feel is more like that really slow load on a medium action rod.  So fun to cast!  And what a great rod for the price!  It’s the only TFO rod I own and now I’m a big TFO fan.  Honestly I cannot wait to buy another TFO rod.


“Huck-Truck” parked on the banks of the Lower Owens River with the Sierras in the background

I decided on the way to bishop, that I would go to the head of the fly fishing only section (below the footbridge at the south end of the campground) of the Lower Owens River just to see how crowded it was.  I have never been able to fish there because there are always a ton of fly fisherman there; usually shoulder to shoulder.  Last year, two buddies of mine from the club just killed there.  To my surprise no one was there.  And the midge hatch was on.  I saw some rises in the bait section so I threw a midge adult floater just feet from my truck and boom!  2nd cast and I had landed a nice wild brown.  “Hmmm… this could be a good day.”  And I was.  I fished a midge dry trailed by a midge emerger and did really well.  And then the BWO hatch went off…. so I switched to a light green bodied size 18 BWO and man, was that fun.  Once the hatches ended, pretty much so did the good fishing.  But, I had hooked 25 or so and landed half of them by 1pm.  The weird thing was that every fish was a wild brown in the 10” to 12” range.  I was not catching big fish, nor was I catching tiny fish.

I met all the guys that night….great group.  Totally fun.  some of them had fished the stocked section in bishop in the afternoon and they did pretty well on bass and stocked trout on traditional tackle.


Austin casting dries to rising fish on the upper C&R section of the Lower Owens River

Well, the next day (Friday) I headed right back out to the head of the Wild fly fishing only section and parked exactly where I did the day prior.  No one there.  “No way!” I said to myself.  “Where in the world is everyone?  Do I not know something they know?”  The reality was the opposite.  There was no one on the 3-mile section of the lower Owens river and the fishing was great.  And no one knew it but me.  I did even better this day.  I probably had > 30 takes on the dries and landed more than half of them.  But, the same cookie cutter 12” browns.  All of them.  That is weird.  When the hatch died off and the fishing came to a halt around 1:30 PM I switch to streamers and did the 2+ mile walk downriver hunting for troutzilla.  And I caught a few….but the same cookie cutter 12” browns.  Troutzilla may have stuck me.  I got hit so hard on the swing it almost knocked the rod out of my hand.  But, he didn’t stick.  I’ll never know.

The next day, Saturday was one of the most fun fly fishing days I have had in a long time.  It was the best part of the trip and I didn’t even fish; I guided.  And not only did I get to guide, but I got to guide a newbie 15 year old high school sophomore named Austin.  Great kid!


My buddy Ken Battling on a custom rod made for me by Tom Young

And no one was on the river again!  A Saturday!  I couldn’t believe it.  When we started I told Austin and his uncle Ken (who asked me to teach him): “You are not going to catch a fish today.  But, a great goal is to make you a proficient cast and see if we can fool a couple fish to rise to your drift.  You won’t land them, but I’d love to see you hook one.”   I taught him how to cast….and he was doing ok…and he got better… and he missed about 5 takes.  Which was awesome.  I was happy at that.  then he started hooking fish….and missing them….  And then it happened…. Just like god looked down on us and took pity … he made a perfect cast in between two swift seams…right into soft water.  He mended and his drift was perfect.  Whack!  A 12” brown hit him hard and he set perfectly…. Before I could even coach him he had the fish on the reel.  At this point I was pretty much doing cartwheels in joy and screaming the f word “f’ing awesome!  woo!  Play him!  Don’t reel him in… f’ing awesome!”  he swung the fish to my net…. “Woo!!!! “ I screamed that so loud the whole owens valley heard it….   And then I apologized to him for getting so excited and saying the F word.  He laughed.


Austin with his first fish landed on a fly rod!

Forks of the Kern in August at 65 CFS

Backpacking to the Upper Kern River – August 28-30 2015

Wet Wading; 40+ takes a day; all nymphing; no real action on top;

View down to the North Fork of Kern River at the confluence of the Little Kern from the Forks of the Kern Trail

View down to the North Fork of Kern River at the confluence of the Little Kern from the Forks of the Kern Trail

I have written a few posts about my experiences on the Kern so if you are reading this to learn how to fish it make sure and read those other posts.  I won’t rehash here other than one important fact: the reason the fly fishing is so good is because not many people are willing to do the 1100 foot decent in 2.1 miles to get down to the river….because to get out you have to do the ascend in reverse.  It is physical and that part of the southern sierras gets hot in the summer.

Here is what my fitbit told me I did on the first day after hiking in and fishing all day.  That is a big day for an over 50 like me.

10k steps a day reccommended to keep healthy

10k steps a day reccommended to keep healthy

I had this trip on my calendar for a long time because my wife was out of town this weekend.  And that makes it really easy to get out into the wilderness.  We are empty nesters after all.

In this 4th year of drought I knew I was going to face a tame river.  At 65 CFS it was wadable and crossable almost everywhere.  I was in shock because I have fished that river when you can barely get a toe in the water while still being afraid of being swept away.  On that first day all by myself I kept laughing to myself “I cannot believe I am just wading the middle of the river up-stream for miles.”  Because in non-drought years the Kern is a nasty dangerous wild river in its upper section.  Even the best kayakers avoid it because of the many class 5 rapids.  Well, in august of a drought year it’s just a completely different river and fishes different too.

Notice the Graph below.  It contains data from 1999 to present.  And can clearly see august averages are around 300 CFS.  Well, the Kern is at 65 CFG and it has been about 1/5th of what it should be at for a couple years now.

Kern CFS

65 CFS in August of a drought year when it should be 300+

The other thing I noticed, especially because of drought is how badly that area needs another good fire.  You can clearly see it has had fire before.  I can’t find the records on the internet, but from seeing some of the left over burnt trees in the area I’d guess that area hasn’t burnt in over a decade.  There are so many dead trees (pine beetle) and a full foot of dead leaves on the ground in many places.  It just seems that either Mother Nature with lightning or some dumb ass is going to set that place on fire soon.  There are so many places on fire in California right now.  And as much as the area needs a fire, having a fire during low water conditions is going to ruin the fishery for a while when the ash “sludges” up that beautiful river.

Montana skies in the Sierras with Grant Slaying in the River

Montana skies in the Sierras with Grant Slaying in the River

The great thing about this trip was that my buddy Grant Palmer joined me for Saturday and Sunday.  Grant is a very good fisherman and is one of the many that originally taught me how to fly fish.  I will never forget meeting him for the first time about 15 years ago, trying to cast a $60 cabellas 6wt and him saying, “Try this rod”.  And then my good friend Tim Hoffmann, also credited for teaching me how to fly fish saying, “Huck, be careful.  That is a $2000 rod.”  I almost fainted.  Grant worked for Backpacker Magazine at the time and got all the “good stuff” for free.

Anyways I feel like I know the Kern well and how to fish it in all seasons.  But, I learned a lot from Grant on this trip.  I also re-affirmed my belief that you just can never stop learning in fly fishing.  Firstly I learned the contrast of how differently Grant and I fish.  He is methodical and deliberate.  He rakes the river until it succumbs to him.  I’m a 5 cast and move type of guy; always moving, always casting.  Grant basically picks a run and then fishes by high-sticking a perfect drift 10 feet in front of him with an upstream roll of the line at the end to start the process over.  He basically nymphs from 45 degrees up stream to 45 down; highsticking over and over until he catches a fish; similar to European style nymphing, but with a bobber.  Grant uses a bobber and weight so he gets all the way down.

Me, I fish a hopper as my indicator in the Kern because you never know when the monster might rise from the deep.   And I drop self-weighted nymphs off that – 3 total flies.  Yes that means I succumb to more trees and wind knots and lose more flies.  And I cast 20 to 60 feet with hugely long drifts.  I don’t get down like Grant does…especially up stream.  And I never rake 5+ fish out of a hole like grant does.  But, I love casting and I love the long distance fights and technical prowess of the drifts and the sets so I sacrifice quantity.  Which is fine by me.

But, it was obvious to be more well-rounded, I need to balance my fly fishing with more of what Grant does.  Because I bet he hooked 60 fish on Saturday.  I hooked at least 40 also.  Some of them were quality fish.

Rubber Legs in the Nose

Rubber Legs in the Nose

The difference in the fish hooked on this trip was size.  In April it seemed like every fish I hooked was huge.  In August 9 out of ten fish were 6” to 8”.  Is there anything harder to land than a 6” wild river trout on a size 18 barbless nymph?  If you have only fished stocked or lake fish you have no idea what I’m talking about.  Wild fish go ballistic when hooked.  And I don’t just mean 4 or 5 jumps.  And they never seem to tire…if you do get them to hand you can’t get them to relax to unhook them.  On this trip I really perfected my 10 foot release of the little guys.  Some times on purpose; many times not.  It’s better on the fish when you don’t touch them or bring them out of the water.  Just a little too much vertical tension with the trout’s head just out of the water can many times get a small fish to shake himself off.  In a “wild river” it is easier to land a big trout than a little one.  The big trout leap, but they don’t go crazy like the little ones.

The Burly Little Left Hander - picture taken by Grant Palmer

The Burly Little Left Hander – picture taken by Grant Palmer

In 3 days of fishing I only had 5 or 6 takes on top and even a small amount of refusals.  I tried many different sizes and colors of “Huck-Hoppers” which normally kill there.  The weird thing was that grasshoppers were everywhere on the banks in the grass just like you’d expect in August.  So, I’m perplexed at why I wasn’t getting rises because the naturals were there.  Sometimes you can match the hatch and it still doesn’t work.  That is fly fishing.

I had one huge fish follow a small fish I had on trying to consume him.  I should have switched to a streamer right then and there.  I bet Grant would have.

There always seems to be some type of calamity back packing.  And overcoming issues backpacking makes you better and better at it.  On this trip I had a couple calamities that caused bruises and bleeding, but the biggie was that my Korkers Felt Soles on my wading boots failed; Total drag and relatively dangerous.  I’m a huge Korkers fan.  They are the wading boots where the soles are interchangeable.  The Kern is really slippery because of the round and oblong granite soccer ball sized boulders polished by the river.  The titanium spiked felt Korkers are great in most rivers, but a nightmare on the Kern.  The pure felts work just fine in the Kern.  I have never had a problem with soles, but I bought a 2nd pair of Korkers Mudder Duckers off in May that were too cheap to resist.  When I got them I was pleasantly surprised by how light they were: perfect for backpacking.  I’d wear the rubber soles to hike in (extra socks because you size up wading boots for the neoprene booty in the waders) and just switch to the felts before entering the river.  That saved 5 pounds in my pack not having to bring wading boots and hiking boots.   This was only the 3rd trip I had used the felt soles and they failed after a couple hours of wading on the first day.  The adhesive failed and the felt peeled back from the soles.  Uggg…i’d have to fish in the rubber soles for the next 3 days… dangerously slippery.  Well, I assumed that it would be very painful to do a warranty replacement, if at all.  What I found was the exact opposite and incredible customer service.  On the site there is a nice little web application that allows you to send a picture of the defect product, load the proof of purchase, etc.  Within 12 hours of submitting my warranty application I got a personal email from Ari Zolonz from Korkers practically apologizing for the defect and promising an immediate replacement.  We went back in forth in email and I told him I was a huge Korkers fan and was surprised the felts failed.  He basically said I bought a discontinued model of Korkers that was probably 7-8 years old that was just sitting in a hot Wyoming sierratradingpost warehouse for 8 years.  Ari told me, “… there are a few crucial variables in production when it comes to adhesives. Time, temp, pressure.”  Makes total sense.  And I’m even more of a Korkers fan now.

Big Kern River Rainbow

Big Kern River Rainbow

We didn’t eat any trout and I’m glad Grant didn’t want to.  I packed in a huge steak and between that and dehydrated backpacking food we were fine.

On the way in a fox and a bobcat crossed the road in front of me.  on the hike out I followed a fox for a couple hundred feet on the trail.  On the last day Grant and I closed up camp and backpacked our way back close to the ascent.  Then we fished downriver away from the trail and into the wilderness.  It was a bit creepy seeing all the bear tracks.  Grant left at 10am and I landed 7 quality trout in the next hour after he left.  I kept getting deeper into the wilderness and farther from the trail out until I finally convinced myself I had to end it and go home.  My estimate was another 2 miles wading the river.  So, I was already a bit exhausted when I started the 2.1 mile, 1100 foot ascent.  It took me a full hour.  Exhausting, and totally worth it.

Grey Fox leading me up the trail

Grey Fox leading me up the trail



Kauai Fly Fishing for Trout

September, 2014

An 8 year quest is finally complete. I have finally caught and released the legendary rainbow trout of the island of Kauai. And it wasn’t easy.

First a little background: Not many people know that the island of Kauai supports a wild and thriving population of rainbow trout in its wet and mountainous jungles. Like most of Kauai’s wildlife (black tail deer, mountain goats, wild boar, etc.) the trout were planted 125 years ago and have thrived in the cold waters in the mountains of the wettest place on earth.


Fly fishing in Kauai is hands down the most difficult fly fishing I have ever done:

· It is an absolute physical, long hike and bush-whack to get to them. Of all the crazy-ass bush whacking hikes I have done to fly fish, this one is the most physical. I have hiked as long as 14 miles in Kokee state park to get to them. And although there are no predators (ie: bears and wolves), it is certainly as dangerous as anything I have done because of the climbing and the cliffs involved and the slippery lava based rocks. And the blackberry bushes seem to grow everywhere there is fresh water. With their thorns it’s like fishing while standing in rose bushes. And this is the type of place you just will not see another soul. So, if you get hurt you will not be found.


· And once you do get to the trout it is very difficult to get a cast in because the creeks, streams and rivers are so overgrown, while at the same time the trout are very skittish and spook easily.

· For some reason the trout don’t seem to rise either. God only knows what they eat (other than each other) because there doesn’t seem to be any water born insects in Kauai like you’d see in every other trout river in the world. There are plenty of insects just not the midges, mayflies or caddis that are so normal to a trout river.

· The wettest place on earth can also be really cold. I have shivered while getting rained on at close to 5000 feet. I have also dehydrated in sweltering heat in the very same place.


The reason for my success this time after so many failures in the past was that I got some help on where to fish from a fly fisherman named An Dinh. I found An’s blog post on fly fishing Kauai and reached out to him. He was tremendously helpful and I owe him, big time. An’s advise was to fish the (*) stream. For years I had been passing over it because it was so skinny at the road. Like many Kauai streams, even the smallest water has big pools and great pocket water and that is where the fish survive in the warmness of the summers. I had always just passed right by the (*) because it is so close to the much bigger Kauaikoi River. The Kauaikoi has trout…big trout…but, I have yet to fool one there. And, yes, I tried again this time around.


So other than the difficulty of getting to a place that has fish and one can make a cast to there is the issue of what to throw. Ironically my success was on Rainbow Warriors trailed behind a small streamer. The irony is that the Rainbow Warrior is the team name of the University of Hawaii. But, the Rainbow warrior itself was created by a guide in Colorado and is named because of its rainbow color. The Rainbow Warrior nymph really doesn’t look like anything natural and they are really easy to tie.


If you make it to Kauai on vacation and want to do this crazy hunt with your fly rod feel free to contact me by email (which you can find on and I’ll get you maps and details.

Or, better yet, hire Nigel Warrack to take you there. He’s a young knowledgeable guide with the range rover that can get you close without the big hike in.

FYI, as of early 2017 a few of my blog readers have reported they have had trouble contacting Nigel.

* Per An’s request i removed the name of the stream i caught these fish in.  But, if you email him (or me) directly then he’ll take care of you like he took care of me.


Yellowstone National Park and Dupuy Spring Creek

Monday, April 7, 2014

This was our big day. Off to Yellowstone national park early to travel 100 miles or so of the north end of the park and then to fish the remainder of the day at Dupuy’s. A private spring creek that feeds the Yellowstone River. but, because of the success of the prior day it was really hard to get mark out of bed. I wanted to leave by 6am and I wasn’t even out of bed until 630. I think we left around 9am.

Once we got into the canyon within 10 miles of the park I told mark, “ok, it’s going to get good.” And sure enough it did. Wild buffalo were everywhere in the hills. They were even wandering around in the town of gardner on the north entrance to the park’s border.


We couldn’t have travelled 2 miles into the park when we ran into the first (of like 50) heards of buffalo. I told Mark, “wanna’ stop?” “hell ya”, he said.


As we stood above and took pictures I noticed a stairway looking thing and a trail. I couldn’t resist and said, “let’s go.”. so, cautioning him on safety and getting gored, we walked down to the buffalo. Mark got within 20 feet of them before he started getting nasty looks from the males and I told him to back off.


He iPhone videoed to send to his buddies and got one crapping…typical. We pressed on in the rental car. Net-net I have never seen as many animals in one day as we did on that day. And I have been going to national parks, including Yellowstone my whole life. They come down from the mountains in the spring and we caught it just right. There was hardly anyone there too so we saw none of that famous YNP traffic. We went all the way to the lamar valley hoping to see the wolves and all we saw there were the professional photograhers taking pictures of them 2 miles away….and tons more buffalo. The only real mammal we didn’t see that day was a bear.


We saw a lot of animals… a lot… 500+ buffalo, elk, deer, moose, antelope, big horn sheep..


After a full 4-5 hour trek in the rental car in Yellowstone we headed back towards Livingston to Dupuy Spring Creek. We didn’t get there until 2pm. And to my dismay, the place that Paul told us to fish had 8 trucks parked there. I have never seen that many people on Dupuy. I really thought they limited the rods, but not on this day. we kept going on the dirt road up river and there were people everywhere. We eventually parked way on top and fished that part – which I had never done before….and now I know why. I taught mark how to fish a streamer, but even I couldn’t get one on a streamer. I got a small tap, but that was it for the first hour. Mark was proficient on the streamer, but since we werent’ getting anything I switched him to the bobber. But, that stretch yielded nothing. So back in the car we went and travelled on the dirt road all the way downriver to the other end which I was very familiar with the water. It was late so most of the guides and fisherman were gone. And sure enough, within the first 10 mins I guided mark to spot saying “cast there; cast here.” ect and boom! Brown trout. Ok, good. the rest of the day we had good action. Mark is really proficient in nymphing and can match up with anyone. I had to retie a number of his rigs from trees and bushes caught, but that is expected. Dupuys is very technical fishing.

Then we got to a spot where we clearly could see spawning fish. I let mark fish over them but they wouldn’t have any of it. I even tried to coerce the stray male and failed. But, mark moved down river 200 feet and without my help sighted a run and fished it….and boom! Huge battle.


I fled out of the river to the side, dumped my rod and pack, grabbed the net, took a long distance picture of him battling and I ran down stream; and he was still battling. When I got to him, I said that must be a big fish and he says, “No, I think I tail hooked him.” I went in the river downstream trying to net the fish and got a glimpse as he saw me and bolted into current again. “no mark, it’s a huge fish and you have him hooked in the nose!” mark tired him and I netted him. high fives. I said, “you really are a good fly fisherman.” He was very pleased.


We kept him in the net and I took pictures underwater of him while mark released him.



We hiked all the way down to the culvert where the fish swim in on the way to spawn. It holds huge fish but it’s impossible to get a cast. The view is good though:


At this point it was after 6:30pm and mark was clearly tired and running out of steam. I wanted to fish it to the end; to darkness at 8:30pm, but not a problem. I was mostly guiding on this day and was very pleased mark was doing well. So, we headed back to the truck with the deal that we’d fish that good hole by the truck before we left. And when we got there … risers, so I switched to the dries and mark continued to do well on the bobber.

And then I learned the sobering reality of matching the hatch and why I just am not an expert yet…at least in Montana. I threw everything at the rising fish and was ignored. Now mark was sitting, lost his flies again and I knew we needed to go. He was also probably starving. In hindsight instead of rapidly changing flies what I should have done is tied on finer tippet and seined the river to see what the hell they were eating. It was the first time I had brought a small net on the river and I totally forgot I had it. no problem. Lessoned learned. And I was pressed for time anyways.

So, we headed out, drove the 30 mins to bozeman and hit dave’s sushi, surprisingly good and packed with locals, before getting to the hotel room. Instead of crashing immediately we shared JD and coke. I caught up on email and mark did his social networking thing…I guess. He was on his computer. It wasn’t long before we crashed, exhausted.


Floating the Yellowstone River with Mark and Paul Bloch at the Oars

This is the trip I have planned for months…~5 months….almost the most planned trip I have ever done.  Why?  Because Mark is with me.  Almost 19 now, my times alone with him in the wilderness have been few and far between in the last couple years.  And next year he’s gone; off to college.  So, when Kelly opened a crack in the door for a father-son trip to MT as long as we visited MT State where he was accepted, and did it cheaply.  There is one splurge on the trip, though, we are floating the Yellowstone River with Paul Bloch.  And fishing with a guide in MT is expensive.  I have never fished the Yellowstone and it is frequently called the Yankee Stadium of the Rivers in MT.  So, we are paying the exorbitant guide fees for this once in a lifetime trip.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

As expected it was tough to get Mark out of Bed.  I had to lure him out with the crappy free Marriott breakfast thing.

I talked to paul on the phone and told me to try and find the base layer stuff.  there was a Walmart close and I needed to get beer, soda and water anyways so I trecked over there.  and I was reminded on why I hate Walmart so much.  tons of tons of crap but nothing in baselayers for anyone under 300 lbs.  so I bought us xls and cheap sox anyways.  and this was expenses out of the budget that Kelly always seems to haunt me about.

That excursion made us another 15 late but that was ok, because it was cold and snowing.   Paul picked us up at the hotel at 8:30am and we headed for the shop.

We drove 11 miles up river  (grey owl to carters bridge, I think)

In the beginning it wasn’t slow.  Mark was in front of the boat and missed 4-5 in a row getting his bearings to drift fishing in the boat.  We were catching white fish.  Within the hour we both had trout.  I was on streamers and just not catching like I should have.  Too early in the season.  Mark was on the bobber in front.  It was bitter cold, though.  30mph winds and snowing at times.

It was never really slow all day except for a 30 minute stretch and at times it was hot.   The first major accomplishment was when the weather got so bad we pulled over and landed to pee.  Paul took mark into the current out of the boat and he nailed a nice rainbow!  Out of the boat!  On the “Yankee Stadium” of rivers….the Yellowstone.  I was beaming.  So was paul.  Lots of high fiving.

Mark was killing it.  and I let him drink a couple beers in the boat.  He is almost 19.   He was out fishing dad again which made me so proud.  Paul was proud of him too.  he taught mark so much about casting and reading the water.

We got back in the boat and then it happened…..  in the fast water mark hooked, battled and landed a really nice brown on a dead drifted zonker.  Because of the fast water paul couldn’t back row it…so mark did a great job battling and landing that fish.

Then it occurred to me….the grand slam.  No way could a rookie get a grand slam on the Yellowstone….could he?  From the back of the boat I said to paul and mark: “Mark you have a chance at a Yellowstone river grand slam.”  Typically quiet and he was shivering cold, I said, “All you need is a genuine Yellowstone Cutthroat and you have it.”  paul immediately jumped on that and said, “we’ll do it!”

Well, the sun peaked out and it couldn’t have been five minutes later when mark was on and in a battle.  Paul seems to have the eyes of an eagle because at one point he said, “it’s a cuttie!”  Mark landed it.  high fives and “woo!”.  Paul carefully examined the fish and told mark: “in a decade this fish will not exist.  This is as pure a wild Yellowstone cutthroat as there is.”  Mark didn’t understand or appreciate that at the time and I’m not so sure he still does.  But, one day he’ll tell his kids he caught and released a fish that is extinct.

And there it was: Mark had a grand slam on the Yellowstone River.


Now, there was only one thing left to do….and I knew exactly what paul was thinking….  Looking for risers.  We had been catching a lot of fish and with an 11 mile float we had to move so Paul pushed looking for risers.  He took us to one of his secrets spots…and it was like tuna feeding in the ocean.  I have never seen anything like that.  A full on boil in the foam with millions of bugs.

Paul shouted at Mark for what to do and for me.  Mark dragged his nymphs through there slowly as instructed by paul and boom!  A big rainbow.  Then, in typical paul fashion he said, “we have to do that again on dries.”  So, he back rowed to it and we anchored up stream of it because of the current being so strong next to it.  It was my turn so paul handed me the dry rig and I casted…missed to the left… cast again…miss to the right….cast again…in the zone… paul says, “twitch it.” I do.  Paul says, “Pull it back slowly…”  and I feel the tug and set and the battle is on and I scream “woo!”.  the fish runs to the fast current and jumps.  Paul says, “Big Cutty!”…. I’m on 5x and the fish in in the fast stuff below me so I’m panicking…  and he jumps again.  Paul says, “you are going to have to finesse him out of the current.”  And I say, “I’ll ruin the hole.”  He says that is ok.  So I try and try.  But finally I get the fish into the slower stuff about 50 feet below us and pull him up and through the hole and paul nets him, “Woo!”.  Late I found out paul had zero confidence I’d land that fish.


We didn’t have bags; we were wearing other people’s clothes, and we didn’t care.  Great day.  We found out the next day that we were the only ones on the river that did well.  That is why I love fishing with paul.  He’s so good; and he always wants to do the special thing as opposed to the numbers thing.  he doesn’t seem to get the respect from the other outfitters and guides and I think I know why.  He’s only been fly fishing for a decade.  That is a rookie in that business.  Of course he’s only in his mid twenties.

We had a great day and mark and paul got along smashingly just as I predicted.

We took paul to the chophouse in Livingston. I insisted on treating; it is the right thing to do.  I love that place.  The food is spectacular.  Rivals anything Bozeman has that I have been to.   I had a buffalo rib eye.  Mark had lamb chops.  Paul had the biggest steak I have ever seen.  Awesome.

The other good news.  A long conversation with delta at billings and they overcame united’s screw up on the bags.  They were sitting idle in san Francisco where we missed our connection.  Even though I asked united on the phone to ensure our bags got transferred they blew it.  The delta gal I talked walked over to united and talked to them.  She rerouted the bags on two delta flights to Bozeman airport.  The only downside was that I had to pick them up at 1130 at night after that long day.  mark was so wiped he couldn’t even go with me and I didn’t mind.  He was worked.  I let mark drink a JD and coke in the room and since I had to drive to the Bozeman airport I passed.

I got all 3 bags at the Bozeman airport that night…thank god.  Because tomorrow was our “big day”.