With Risk Comes Reward: "Canyoneering" & Tenkara in the NY Tri-State Area

There is a beautiful and spiritually important place where history runs deep - stories of Native Americans and Colonists intertwine with a natural place of such mysterious beauty that it is almost impossible to describe. 

Such a place does not lend itself to being treaded upon easily... but if you tread lightly enough and with a good-hearted intent, it may allow you to pass, and in doing so, experience something that could almost be frozen in time.

Of course, such places also hold untold treasures in the form of beautiful wild trout, so I packed the Oni type III and my Daiwa Soyokaze 27sr, ignored the weather report, and headed up into the ravine.

While this may seem like the end of the trail, with some risk and an enormous amount of effort, one can barter for entry into the deepest and likely the most remote ravine in the area.

This is no simple feat, as the gradient is as steep as can be, and the obstacles are many.

And as one overcomes each of these obstacles, thinking, or just hoping, that it could be that last, another pops up to deliver yet another challenge.

But after some well thought out moves and a bit of slide down some slippery leaves, entry into the ravine is granted, and a scene relatively untouched unfolds before me.

The last time I visited this place, the fish were as plentiful, and many were larger. However, with less water flowing and a very different winter behind us, I accepted that this was simply the flow of nature this year.

Each crystal-clear pool presents a challenge of its own... unexpectedly beautiful sunny weather brings the challenge of casting shadows, while endless deadfall and snags lead to awkward angles and impossibly short drifts.

Nonetheless, each challenge, when tackled with a moment of patience and thought is eventually unlocked...

...delivering rewards, one colorful jewel at a time.

And just when the pace has seemingly evened out, a new obstacle is presented beyond each passing mossy rock.

An ancient log along the slick rock once provided a stairway to the next pool... yet some force of nature had washed it down and this may have spelled the end of this adventure.

But as I scoured the walls of the ravine for another option, this raggedy year-old rope gave me the only risky option out of this predicament, so I took it.

Studded boots created solid footing and it was not necessary to use the rope to hold my weight... but it provided a perfect balance point as a handle at just the right moment, and I was soon up and over the wall, looking back down.

The risks were not over yet... one more slightly sketchy move along a collapsing hillside was necessary in order to save an almost unthinkable amount of scrambling up and then back down steep hillside to reach the other side... 

Using the appropriate holds I shimmied across, as a little bit more dirt cascaded down behind me. Yikes. This maneuver will probably not be possible next year if any more of this erodes. Ropes and harnesses may have been a smart move...

But soon I was forgetting all about this moment, and once again in awe of the scenery around me.

One after another, these beautiful cascades were within my grasp. While the rain made momentary appearances, it was nothing compared to the high chances of thundershowers first predicted.

And in each of these pools below the cascades, colorful wild brook trout were brought to hand.

My favorite pool, (and one that is particularly hard to access without doing the entire scramble up the canyon,) yielded the most colorful fish of the day from below the foamy depths.

Recently blown-down trees had been washed into a few prime pools, making them new refuges for the few trophies in this mountain stream.

And yet others were newly opened up for the anglers willing to put in the work to be in this place at the right time.

A new rope, likely for swinging into a deep channel and going for a summer swim provided a wonderful way to extend my reach into the channel.

Multiple beautiful fish were pulled from this pool... and quickly I fell into the trance of fishing to that one large, picky resident, seemingly asleep... failing to move even to investigate and reject my offerings.

Even without the big ones, just being in this place was a reward in and of itself.

I recognized many of the signs that I often see in deep ravines such as this... specific mushrooms, patterns of moss, dark-colored fish, and dead logs that created a certain magical feeling around me. My favorite streams run through places like this.

The signs of wildlife, surely aware of my presence, were abundant - as were the first signs of spring on the forest floor.

 Having reached the top of the ravine, and after fishing all the best holes along the way, the rain began to fall hard; as if to signify that I was at risk of overstaying my welcome in this surely sacred place.

I made my exit up a steep hill, finding a bushwack-trail along the edge of some private property. A quick view back up the hill of the upper ravine confirmed the epic undertaking, defining my journey in having traversed these cascades.

And as if in solidarity with the theme of the day, a useful reminder awaited those who stopped to read it on the way out.

I was surely very aware of the reality of the world around me on this day. Choosing to inhabit one reality within the world I live in as opposed to another had brought me to this fairytale location and delivered the rewards I had sought. 

"Become aware to the reality of the world you live in... so choose to spend your time and energy doing the things you love, not the things you don't."

Early Spring Rainbows on the Salmon River, CT

I wanted to get back to the Salmon River in CT before the crowds really hit so I could get a decent impression of what the early spring fishing would be like. Sugi and I chose a day that looked like it would "break" the spell of winter on the weather report. (We've since learned that was only temporary, )but it was definitely a perfect day for us to be out.

We chose a nice spot where there weren't any other anglers yet. The river was flowing a bit low, but was in beautiful shape. The first section yielded one hard missed strike and then finally a fish to net.

The sun popped out here and there, and it became important to watch the shadows... which limited my techniques to mostly downstream fishing.

But the (likely recently stocked) rainbows were eager to take a fly from any angle, from what it seemed.

In a few instances, I was able to take many fish from each deep, dark hiding spot.

There is plenty of cover for fish, and a lot of opportunity to use large rocks to shield the fish from your presence on the river.

As the sun got brighter, the fish could see us more easily. I started fishing the deeper, darker and more hidden holes and the results were, at times, promising.

A break for lunch... home made Onigiri is always appreciated and enjoyed.

The setting was almost ancient... if it weren't for the fact that a dirt road runs along this river, you would almost think you were into the deepest and wildest of wildernesses, not close to major cities in Connecticut.

Of course, among the beauty was the usual trash left by anglers. I picked up many beer cans and some other commonly found bits of trash. Less than ideal, to say the least.

Working up another section that looked promising, I let the momentary frustration from the trash fade and settled back into the rhythm of high stick nymphing from pocket to pocket. 

I was using my new Suntech Grayce II. The rod telescopes from 4.7-5.2 meters. That means at its fully extended point, it is 17 feet long. That may seem a little strange to the average angler, but let me assure you... it is amazing. Given the complex patterns of water flow, I surmise it is easier to fish this river with a longer rod. You need the reach to avoid constant mending and to obtain a natural drift in the short plunge pools where so many trout reside.

The rod is almost insanely fun to cast, and my chosen method is something like a spey cast that doesn't rely on so much line being on the water. It is almost impossibly light, and with the right moves, does most of the "work" for you.

After catching so many rainbows, many of which were pretty beat up from their hatchery life and not worth a photo, I was happy to pull of a brown here and there as well.

Soon it was back to rainbows though, and some were of decent size.

 

At this point I was getting tired and it was getting late. I took a break for a snack and then hit the last deep plunge pool of the long section I had been fishing.

A particularly fat and hard fighting rainbow came from this pool first, and it took longer than the others to land. I was able to steer it in circles with the longer rod, but had to watch for branches given the situation.

After this I stumbled upon a pod of stockies and continued to pull them out until my arm was actually getting a bit sore. I decided to step off the water and call it a day. I didn't find any large brookies or holdover browns, but what a great day when you get tired from catching too many fish! While this river was a ton of fun, I'm actually looking much more forward to exploring some of the tributaries down the line.