Question:
Frank: It was also while on his honeymoon. What a kicker. Nice report GM.
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – Report included pictures, extra roffians, huge fish, a veritable reiding rainbow, booze, perseverance in the face of illness, food, culture, geography, deep fried gerbils (well, they coulda been there!)…. Excellent report. Congrats on the big fish and nice to hear the little brother is finally working again. Good on ya, both you and Clark. Sounds like the trip of a lifetime. — Frank Reid Reverse email to reply.
Response:
Frank: It was also while on his honeymoon. What a kicker. Nice report GM.
Thanks Stan. Still wanna do a run to the Battenkill? — Gary (Email address is munged with x’s)
Response:
Thanks Stan. Still wanna do a run to the Battenkill?
I’m thinking it’s a bit late for this year – the trout season ended Oct. 28′th. I tried to get in a last day of warmwater fishing last Saturday in Otis and it snowed! We didn’t even get our canoes in the water<g. We could always try to hit the Swift or the Millers.
Response:
… We could always try to hit the Swift or the Millers.
um…stan, could you maybe hold off for a while? i’m currently engaged in a conflict in which i’m getting my ass whipped pretty good… …where is the millers – mass.? jeff
Response:
Thanks Stan. Still wanna do a run to the Battenkill? I’m thinking it’s a bit late for this year – the trout season ended Oct. 28′th. I tried to get in a last day of warmwater fishing last Saturday in Otis and it snowed! We didn’t even get our canoes in the water<g. We could always try to hit the Swift or the Millers.
Millers/Swift sounds good. Is the FF Only section open yet? The NY State side of the Battenkill is still open. I don’t think it closes, or it does at the end of Nov. Or did regs change? — Gary (Email address is munged with x’s)
Response:
…where is the millers – mass.?
The Millers River is a small river flowing west just south of the New Hampshire border into the Connecticut. It is a typical New England river in that it has been dammed and abused by mills for a couple hundred years. There are some beautiful stretches though, and Gary wrote a nice piece about it this summer concerning a seemingly impossible cast. –Stan
Response:
Millers/Swift sounds good. Is the FF Only section open yet? The NY State side of the Battenkill is still open. I don’t think it closes, or it does at the end of Nov. Or did regs change? — Gary
I’m not sure about the NY regs. I think that parts of the Ausable, Schroon and Battenkill are open year-round. The general regs trout season ends Oct. 15. The Swift is still closed upstream from the Rt. 9 bridge. It was supposed to re-open on Nov. 1 but the latest scare this week made them postpone the opening until Nov. 7. Downstream is still open as usual, and has had much heavier pressure than usual because of the closed section.
Response:
Thanks for the kind words Gary. I also can add some reasons for the lack of a photo of the big fish and the fault is squarely mine, though Gary is too much of a gentleman to indicate so. In the process of landing the fish the fly came free of the fish as often happens at the end of the battle. On this occasion though it was because the clumsy guide had stepped on the leader thus freeing the fish prior to Gary getting the camera out. It was impossible to hold such a fish unrestrained she was a big powerful brown at least in excess of 10lbs, exact weight I could only guess at between 10 and 12 pounds. A fish Gary should be proud of and one I am gutted to have prevented a photo of. So I owe apologies for "screwing up" to Gary and the promise of being more diligent should he ever return. I for one hope you do Gary, you were a pleasure to fish with. Clark
– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I met up with Clark Reid a week ago today for a few frolics in the middle of the South Island of New Zealand. Firstly I am eternally grateful to him, as the poor bastard was sick as a dog. So sick as to get up at 3am the night before, drive about 50 miles to hospitalize himself, only to be too tired to make the hospital, sleep in the truck and he still made our date at 8:30am. I felt guilty all day until I gave him a drop o’ old Jameson’s and he felt better. So did I, when he reciprocated with a delicious sour mash of his choosing. We were in the Mt Cook vicinity (http://www.rockypond.com/mtcook.jpg), an area that has a look not unlike that of Three Rivers in Montana (wide, arid, surrounded by mountains, http://www.rockypond.com/scenery.jpg). The nearby Lake Tekapo, where we stayed, is spectacular with a deep azure color from the nearby glaciers (picture includes shot of your friend and humble narrator, http://www.rockypond.com/tekapo.jpg). The first stream (http://www.rockypond.com/firstriver.jpg) we visited was about 15 feet in width, slightly off color and cold. I admit that it did not look like much. Clark assured me it held big fish. Clark explained that Kiwi fishing is different from US or UK fishing in that there are fewer fish that are much larger. This was certainly bourn out this day. Being early season there was not much of any dry fly activity, which was slightly disappointing, so we nymphed all day. I pounded water for about an hour and eventually hooked up near a wooden bridge. At first I didn’t think it a large fish as he came towards me, but when he made a run upstream, I was in no doubt. Upstream was an old wooden bridge and as I applied pressure I will never forget the wave the fish created in the river as it turned. The fish was a brown about 26 inches in size, maybe 8lbs or so. It fought for 10 mins and we eventually tagged him at an undercut. After that we moved to a different river over the nearby Burke’s Pass. We stopped to review a fish that Clark had scouted the day before that was in a tough, nearly impossible position. Sitting in front of a bridge leg, with a brush accumulation behind him, in the current that itself broke both ways around the bridge was a good 10lb brown. He was spooked immediately, but twenty mins later after we had eaten lunch and got ready he was back. This time, from the river level, I was fairly sure with Clark’s help I could get something on his nose. There was a rocky braid in the river shy of the lie and I hunched down using it as cover. When I reached the braid I lay down flat and peaked up to get the bearing; Clark called the casts though. Too short, lifted too soon, etc. My fear was to let the fly go too long and catch the brush pile. I managed two good drifts to the fish which he ignored and then Clark chose the strategy that since the current was breaking, making dead drift impossible, a swimming nymph would work. Clark told me the nymph was akin to the Isonychia, which I have had great success with in the US. I cannot remember but I believe it was the first or second cast that he yelled "Strike!" To my surprise he was hooked (the fish, not Clark). What ensued was almost complete anarchy and what happened next transpired over a few minutes. I stood up and the fish took off upstream. Above the pool were some step-like rapids and white water, which the fish barreled through even though I had full power on the loaded rod. Impressive indeed. I managed to turn him and he came down the pool to the (those who are following this could guess this next bit) brush pile at the bridge. Once he was there I thought it was game over. I pulled and could feel nothing only dead weight. As I was upstream I knew I was applying pressure in the wrong direction (either that, or I was trying to pull a brush pile and bridge in my direction). I had to get a more acute angle. Without thinking I jumped into the white water and crossed this extremely fast current. I never would have done this without the adrenalin rush I was now experiencing and as I had to wade downstream I think this was the only thing that saved me from a dunking. By now both Clark and I had fallen a few times due to the step sides of the loose moraine in the rivers. When I got across and was almost 180 degrees from him I was pleased to see the fish was still on and I had successfully moved him from the brush pile into the deep blue pool. This was a good sighting point and how beautiful he was: a big olive head and a body that was 30 inches at least. He came to my feet and I contemplated beaching him, until I fell once again and this time painfully. He was spooked and off downstream, where, to Clark’s credit he was waiting for the fish in the shallow waters. At this point we released him a little too fast for a photograph, but that did not matter to me. It was a good stalk and a good team effort for a righteous fish. We could only laugh and shake our heads at the marvel of that emotional deluge we call fly-fishing. I had the greatest feeling though I was in pain from the falls. I will add at this point it was becoming clear to me that another characteristic of Kiwi fishing is that the river size coupled with large fish size definitely put the odds in favor of the fish. I personally could learn a lot more about playing a large fish by fishing more down there. By now, it was mid afternoon and I had had two fish. Like I mentioned earlier, this is pretty typical. I managed another fish a few minutes later upstream, about 3lbs (http://www.rockypond.com/fish3.jpg). We worked another hour and then decided to move on. As we were on either side of a pass in these past two fish it was apparent that the weather here is strange. At the last river the sky became cloudy and snow was visible at higher elevations, but as we returned across Burke’s Pass again the sky cleared. We fished a fast deep stream in the hot sunshine (name escapes me now, but here’s pic, http://www.rockypond.com/stream3.jpg). Spent nearly two hours here with no luck though we covered a lot of water. The afternoon was getting late and we decided to hit a creek called Mary Burn (a lot of Scots settled NZ). This river was barely a trickle (http://www.rockypond.com/maryburn.jpg). Tannin stained almost like the Scottish or Irish streams are, but barely 5 feet wide. No way was I going to believe that there were anything but fingerlings in there. I hiked off a bit and came to an electrical cattle fence. As I walked up the soft bank I spooked a 22inch brown, which scared the living shit out of me. He nearly beached himself trying to get away. I cannot imagine how this tiny stream grew such enormous fish. In any case this was to be the closest encounter I would have to one of Mary Burn’s progeny. A wind had whipped up and was blowing about 25 knots. As you can imagine trying to hit a less than 1-foot target area in a 5-foot stream with this kind of wind required skills I have yet not acquired, nor maybe never will. Also the temperature was dropping and this wind bit cold. We decided to head off for somewhere sheltered. Sadly the weather did not get better and it was 39F (down about 30 degrees from 2 hours earlier) due to a cold front that had moved in. We decided to call it a day around 7pm I think. It was almost 12 hours fishing and it was the most enjoyable kind. Good fish, good water, good spirits and good conversations. And, yes, Clark Reid is a great guide and good company. Anyway I do thank him again for a great time. He may be able to explain better than I to ROFF as to why the streams are as they are. I think it is to do with a low pH, no environmental issues (NZ has NO fossil fuel or nuclear power plants – all Hydro). That evening, myself and my new wife drove outside of town in the clear, still sky of the new cold front we took in Crux, the Southern Cross (a lifelong dream) and the Clouds of Magellan; not to mentions the upside down Northern Constellations. For the rest of my travels I stopped at many, many streams and every one had big fish (sunglasses over lens to polarize, http://www.rockypond.com/feeder.jpg), even by the Angler’s Access parking areas. One stream looked like someone had surgically lifted the River Avon in Wiltshire and dropped it in the valley of the Eglinton River. I watched a fish work every few seconds and he was mine (strictly up-and-across, mind), but I was sans rod and reel and could only dream. Another series of small lakes held a good dozen two foot long trout that sipped away oblivious to the visitors and gave me a good treatise on the Brownian feeding manner of the still water trout. Sorry for the long report. Hope you enjoyed it.
… read more »
Response:
Great report. Thanks for writing it up. bruce h
Response:
Great report, Gary. Good reading and excellent pictures. Very well done. George Adams "From the rockin’ of the cradle to the rollin’ of the hearse, the goin’ up was worth the comin’ down." ___Kris Kristofferson "The Pilgrim/Chapter 33"
Response:
Report included pictures, extra roffians, huge fish, a veritable reiding rainbow, booze, perseverance in the face of illness, food, culture, geography, deep fried gerbils (well, they coulda been there!)…. Excellent report. Congrats on the big fish and nice to hear the little brother is finally working again. Good on ya, both you and Clark. Sounds like the trip of a lifetime. — Frank Reid Reverse email to reply.
Response:
I met up with Clark Reid a week ago today for a few frolics in the middle of the South Island of New Zealand.
really enjoyed your descriptions of the place & the fishing Mu
Response:
[great reportt snipped for brevity] Thanks for reading.
Thanks for writing!
Steve
Response:
I met up with Clark Reid a week ago today for a few frolics in the middle of the South Island of New Zealand.
Great report snipped. Including pictures with your report was very appreciated. If find it interesting that the trout population is lower than here in the States but that there are more big fish. Willi
Response:
Sorry for the long report.
Uhhh…. don’t mention it. Thanks.
Response:
I met up with Clark Reid a week ago <snip Thanks for reading.
Thanks for writing. Nice report. Kevin
Response:
Superb report, and I really enjoyed the excellent photos. It looks a lot like the Sawtooth and Stanley Basins, but the fish are a lot bigger. Is the area in runoff conditions now? BTW, I can’t believe you didn’t get a photo of that 30" brown. I’ll bet it flopped away before the camera was ready. Bruce Hopper and I are experts in that maneuver. — visit my web site: http://home.earthlink.net/~royalwulff/
Response:
Superb report, and I really enjoyed the excellent photos. It looks a lot like the Sawtooth and Stanley Basins, but the fish are a lot bigger. Is the area in runoff conditions now?
It is supposed to be in runoff, but NZ had been in a drought situation for the past few years, so many rivers are dry and many are below average flows. Actually one picture I wish I had snapped was up on the lake of a boat ramp that was easily 150ft long and the lake itself was about 20ft beyond the *end* of the ramp. BTW, I can’t believe you didn’t get a photo of that 30" brown. I’ll bet it flopped away before the camera was ready. Bruce Hopper and I are experts in that maneuver.
LOL. You read it well. Clark had a normal film camera and he was taking pics of the antics. Not sure if he actually caught it though. I certainly did not have time to get my camera out. — Gary (Email address is munged with x’s)
Response:
I met up with Clark Reid a week ago today for a few frolics in the middle of the South Island of New Zealand.
…and the goodness of this strange place is continued… thanks gary. rw and you have raised the bar for trip reports with your illustrations, and i’ve enjoyed them a lot. jeff (off to wade the stagnant streams of the pitt county courthouse…)
Response:
jeff (off to wade the stagnant streams of the pitt county courthouse…)
same same for your brother at the bar, little wayno, up into the wilds of surrey county, a lawless land if ever there were one… wayno (but damn if those ol boys don’t grow some righteous ganga!)
Response:
I met up with Clark Reid a week ago today for a few frolics in the middle of the South Island of New Zealand. Firstly I am eternally grateful to him, as the poor bastard was sick as a dog. So sick as to get up at 3am the night before, drive about 50 miles to hospitalize himself, only to be too tired to make the hospital, sleep in the truck and he still made our date at 8:30am. I felt guilty all day until I gave him a drop o’ old Jameson’s and he felt better. So did I, when he reciprocated with a delicious sour mash of his choosing. We were in the Mt Cook vicinity (http://www.rockypond.com/mtcook.jpg), an area that has a look not unlike that of Three Rivers in Montana (wide, arid, surrounded by mountains, http://www.rockypond.com/scenery.jpg). The nearby Lake Tekapo, where we stayed, is spectacular with a deep azure color from the nearby glaciers (picture includes shot of your friend and humble narrator, http://www.rockypond.com/tekapo.jpg). The first stream (http://www.rockypond.com/firstriver.jpg) we visited was about 15 feet in width, slightly off color and cold. I admit that it did not look like much. Clark assured me it held big fish. Clark explained that Kiwi fishing is different from US or UK fishing in that there are fewer fish that are much larger. This was certainly bourn out this day. Being early season there was not much of any dry fly activity, which was slightly disappointing, so we nymphed all day. I pounded water for about an hour and eventually hooked up near a wooden bridge. At first I didn’t think it a large fish as he came towards me, but when he made a run upstream, I was in no doubt. Upstream was an old wooden bridge and as I applied pressure I will never forget the wave the fish created in the river as it turned. The fish was a brown about 26 inches in size, maybe 8lbs or so. It fought for 10 mins and we eventually tagged him at an undercut. After that we moved to a different river over the nearby Burke’s Pass. We stopped to review a fish that Clark had scouted the day before that was in a tough, nearly impossible position. Sitting in front of a bridge leg, with a brush accumulation behind him, in the current that itself broke both ways around the bridge was a good 10lb brown. He was spooked immediately, but twenty mins later after we had eaten lunch and got ready he was back. This time, from the river level, I was fairly sure with Clark’s help I could get something on his nose. There was a rocky braid in the river shy of the lie and I hunched down using it as cover. When I reached the braid I lay down flat and peaked up to get the bearing; Clark called the casts though. Too short, lifted too soon, etc. My fear was to let the fly go too long and catch the brush pile. I managed two good drifts to the fish which he ignored and then Clark chose the strategy that since the current was breaking, making dead drift impossible, a swimming nymph would work. Clark told me the nymph was akin to the Isonychia, which I have had great success with in the US. I cannot remember but I believe it was the first or second cast that he yelled "Strike!" To my surprise he was hooked (the fish, not Clark). What ensued was almost complete anarchy and what happened next transpired over a few minutes. I stood up and the fish took off upstream. Above the pool were some step-like rapids and white water, which the fish barreled through even though I had full power on the loaded rod. Impressive indeed. I managed to turn him and he came down the pool to the (those who are following this could guess this next bit) brush pile at the bridge. Once he was there I thought it was game over. I pulled and could feel nothing only dead weight. As I was upstream I knew I was applying pressure in the wrong direction (either that, or I was trying to pull a brush pile and bridge in my direction). I had to get a more acute angle. Without thinking I jumped into the white water and crossed this extremely fast current. I never would have done this without the adrenalin rush I was now experiencing and as I had to wade downstream I think this was the only thing that saved me from a dunking. By now both Clark and I had fallen a few times due to the step sides of the loose moraine in the rivers. When I got across and was almost 180 degrees from him I was pleased to see the fish was still on and I had successfully moved him from the brush pile into the deep blue pool. This was a good sighting point and how beautiful he was: a big olive head and a body that was 30 inches at least. He came to my feet and I contemplated beaching him, until I fell once again and this time painfully. He was spooked and off downstream, where, to Clark’s credit he was waiting for the fish in the shallow waters. At this point we released him a little too fast for a photograph, but that did not matter to me. It was a good stalk and a good team effort for a righteous fish. We could only laugh and shake our heads at the marvel of that emotional deluge we call fly-fishing. I had the greatest feeling though I was in pain from the falls. I will add at this point it was becoming clear to me that another characteristic of Kiwi fishing is that the river size coupled with large fish size definitely put the odds in favor of the fish. I personally could learn a lot more about playing a large fish by fishing more down there. By now, it was mid afternoon and I had had two fish. Like I mentioned earlier, this is pretty typical. I managed another fish a few minutes later upstream, about 3lbs (http://www.rockypond.com/fish3.jpg). We worked another hour and then decided to move on. As we were on either side of a pass in these past two fish it was apparent that the weather here is strange. At the last river the sky became cloudy and snow was visible at higher elevations, but as we returned across Burke’s Pass again the sky cleared. We fished a fast deep stream in the hot sunshine (name escapes me now, but here’s pic, http://www.rockypond.com/stream3.jpg). Spent nearly two hours here with no luck though we covered a lot of water. The afternoon was getting late and we decided to hit a creek called Mary Burn (a lot of Scots settled NZ). This river was barely a trickle (http://www.rockypond.com/maryburn.jpg). Tannin stained almost like the Scottish or Irish streams are, but barely 5 feet wide. No way was I going to believe that there were anything but fingerlings in there. I hiked off a bit and came to an electrical cattle fence. As I walked up the soft bank I spooked a 22inch brown, which scared the living shit out of me. He nearly beached himself trying to get away. I cannot imagine how this tiny stream grew such enormous fish. In any case this was to be the closest encounter I would have to one of Mary Burn’s progeny. A wind had whipped up and was blowing about 25 knots. As you can imagine trying to hit a less than 1-foot target area in a 5-foot stream with this kind of wind required skills I have yet not acquired, nor maybe never will. Also the temperature was dropping and this wind bit cold. We decided to head off for somewhere sheltered. Sadly the weather did not get better and it was 39F (down about 30 degrees from 2 hours earlier) due to a cold front that had moved in. We decided to call it a day around 7pm I think. It was almost 12 hours fishing and it was the most enjoyable kind. Good fish, good water, good spirits and good conversations. And, yes, Clark Reid is a great guide and good company. Anyway I do thank him again for a great time. He may be able to explain better than I to ROFF as to why the streams are as they are. I think it is to do with a low pH, no environmental issues (NZ has NO fossil fuel or nuclear power plants – all Hydro). That evening, myself and my new wife drove outside of town in the clear, still sky of the new cold front we took in Crux, the Southern Cross (a lifelong dream) and the Clouds of Magellan; not to mentions the upside down Northern Constellations. For the rest of my travels I stopped at many, many streams and every one had big fish (sunglasses over lens to polarize, http://www.rockypond.com/feeder.jpg), even by the Angler’s Access parking areas. One stream looked like someone had surgically lifted the River Avon in Wiltshire and dropped it in the valley of the Eglinton River. I watched a fish work every few seconds and he was mine (strictly up-and-across, mind), but I was sans rod and reel and could only dream. Another series of small lakes held a good dozen two foot long trout that sipped away oblivious to the visitors and gave me a good treatise on the Brownian feeding manner of the still water trout. Sorry for the long report. Hope you enjoyed it. Visit NZ some time. The accommodation and car rental is reasonable. The steak and cheese pies and Sleights Old Dark are worth the trip in itself. Come on, don the DVT socks and do it. It’s only 12 hours from LA. Thanks for reading. Gary — Gary (Email address is munged with x’s)
