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ffeat the Upper Housatonicgingerly and respectfully.On one castyou could havea trout
that took your fy, followedby a rock that hit
it smartly.And after you ianded a rock you
could look into those red eyesthat resemble
a prizefightert after severalrounds.
The fish were easytoday.\fith it being fall
and all, I suspectedthey were storing a few
caloriesfor thewinter.I got luckywith a mixed
bagofbrown and brook trout, a few rock bass,
and a pumpkinseed,all from a hundred yard
stretch.Itt fun to catchseveraldifferent species
and not haveto move very far.
\7hen the sun was high I drove several
miles downstreamto Great Barrington and
rented a canoe. From Great Barrington to
AshleyFalls,the Housatonicis deepand slow,
with runs and pools interspersedby silted-in
shallows.Carp moved into the skinny water
and muckedaround on the
to sun themselves
bottom. They were difficult to catch, but a
dead-driftedeggpattern or a nymph on the
bottom got them moving.I tradedin my 3weight for a7-weighr.I kept the wire shock
and deerhair sliders handy, for there were
northern pike around the deadfall and the
deeper-wateredges.Ifyouve nevercaught a
carpor a pike on a fly, do it soon.Thefll put
the trout and the smalliesto shame.
I arrangedfor a pick up and tossedthe
canoein the river. I paddledfor a short time
beforespotting a school ofcarp. They hung
on the edgeofthe silt fat and waited for the
current to drift food their way.Two of them
looked like they weredouble-digit sizedfish,
and there were severalsmaller ones slightly
downstream. I pinched on some weight,
pitched up-and-across,and watchedthe egg
pattern drift along the edge.I held my breath
as one big carp moved toward the fly, but a
younger more aggressivefish raced up and
inhaled my egg.The small fish made a run
long enough to disturb the restofthe school
before it dropped off the fat and into the
channel. He fought hard, and when he was
alongsidethe canoehe looked like a bar of
Fort Knox gold with big lips.
After a few hours and a couple of fish,
I traded in the canoe and drove the 45
minutes to Cornwall Bridge, Connecticut.
This stretchof the Housatonicis what most
anglersthink of when they hear the river's
name, and the Trout Management Area
needsno introduction.Irs reputationasone
of the best riversin America is well-earned
and-deserved.
There are riffes, runs, poois,
and pockets,diversehatchesthat rangefrom
mayfies, caddisflies,and stonefiesto midges
and cranefliesand others. Hatches in the
TMA arestrongand they go off throughout
And for fish, therearebrookies,
the season.
browns.rainbowsand smallmouthbass.
Not long ago, lobbyists and officials
returned the Housatonic to run-of-river, or
natural flow. Nowadays,there areno releases
save
so rhe warerlevelsremainconsistent,
for run off or a heavyrain. As if that weren't
enough,two additionalmanagementstretcheswereadded:aTMA by BullS Bridge,and
a Smallmouth ManagementArea (SMA)
below the Church Pool.
I got a site in the campgroundand pitched
my tent. I plannedon fishingfor awhile at night
and then againin the morning, but neededa
few provisions. So I drove along the river to
Baird'sCountry Store,on the way passingthe
area'stwo fy shops,Housatonic MeadowsFly
Shop (860-672-6064)and HousatonicRiver
Outfitters(860-672-1010).Thereweregroups
ofpeople in the parking lots in front ofboth
shops.It lookedlike the guideswerereturning
from the daystrips or perhapsweregeftingready
to headoucfor someeveningstreamerfishing,
I'm not surewhich. At the storeI pickedup a
steakfor the grill, a coupleofcansofcoke and
a corn muffin for the morning.
A cool breezeblew and the sun wasred, a
surepromisefor a greattomorrow.I atequickly
and strungup a 5-weightrod.At the top of the
campground,a shallow riffie dropped down
into a deeperpool. I strappedon a size-4softhacklestreamerand headedup to seeabout
hooking a big Bitterroot brown.
._
hoveringin
"lt wasslackhightide,withwatertemperatures
the60s.Whenthetiderunsthe bassmoveintotheestuary,soI
pulledonmy waders,strungupa stout9-weight,andwatchedas
commongullsandternsflewhighoverhead
lookingfor baitfish."
The waxing full moon lit up the entire river, and I neededa fashlight only when going
through the thick brush to get to the water.
Some Isonych ia spinners f oated downsrream,
a lew fish quietly sipped them off the water,
turn hirn back into the river and walk down
to the end of the Campground Pool.
By now the moon had drifted over to the
western tree line and it was hard to see. I was
watched a medium-sized rainbow slash at
some caddis. And I noticed bright flashes
tired, too, and it got cold so I headed back to
camp. I looked up at the clear sky and the stars,
then climbed into my sleeping bag for a few
The water was dark with tannins and I could
not tell if there were only two fish in the pool,
or ifthe pool was chock-a-block full oftrout,
hours ofsleep before I would fish again.
In the morning I headed for Carse Brook.
and each flash and rise was a different fish.
I pulled out a Mickey Finn for nostalgia's
trout. And I thought about Marty lannone's
9-pound Housatonic River brown, both
Many years ago I caught my first Housatonic
trout, a rainbow on a Mickey Finn, just above
the rock where the feeder stream joins the river.
sake, went up to the rock, and cast. I did a
slow hand-twist retrieve, and as my bucktail
taken at night. Night fishing is tactile fishing.
Every tap I felt made me think that there
It was the same place I saw a fisherman in his
BOscatch eight fish in eight casts. He showed
was a big fish getting ready to chomp down
on my streamer. Most were bumps of my fly
against the bottom, but I worked down the
me the four flies that he fished: a size-14 hare's
ear,a size-l4 Adams, a size-8 muddler minnow,
and a beavercruised the banks. An owl hooted
as I passed,and a small fock oF mergansers
paddled toward the opposite bank.
I thought of Joe Humphrey and his
one-time Pennsylvania State Record brown
river slowly, very slowly, until I felt a gentle
take. I struck.
This was a fish. He gave a steady tug and
and a size-l4light Cahill. It's the spot where
I thought I hooked a 6-pound brown and
shuddered to find out it was a sucker. And it's
the spot where I hit a blue-winged olive hatch
an occasional headshake. I did not think
he was the one I wanted, but in the pitch
black I couldnt be sure. Navigating at night
one rainy morning that was so thick I didnt
pause to put on rain gear.
Some fish rose and I had my 3-weight
in a stream with a fish on is cumbersome,
and when I caught my foot in a deadfall I
stumbled to my knees.
in hand. The Housatonic is known for its
multiple hatches, and there was the usual
mixed bag. I should have tied on a dropper
I didn't break him off, but he quickly slid
in between the rocks. I slackened the pressure on him, and he dropped back out just
as easy as he entered. tVhen he came into
rig, but I didn't. I might have picked the
pocket water at the head of the pool, too.
Crossing over to the opposite bank usually
worked. I chose none of the above and
the shallows I netted him in the moonlieht.
H e w a s a b r o w n , a b o u t 1 B i n c h e s ,a n d * h i l e
instead sat on the bank and watched.
I watched a small brown roll steadily
he wasn't a bruiser, I was pleasedenough to
and pick off emergers in the surface film. I
44
every time the sunlight hit the sidesofone, or
maybe several, fish deep in the water column.
swung by the rock a fish hit on the first
pass. He came out of the watet a rainbow!
After a bit of thrashing I netted him. There
were more fish to be caught-there
always
21s-Su1 I reeled up and headed for my
truck. That would be all for uo here. \fhen
i r i s p e r F e c t ,i t i s a l s o e n o u g h .
I drove south along the river for a long
while toward the coast.The Housatonic runs
into Long Island Sound between Stratford
and Milford. Vith Route 95 as a backdrop,
the fishing is more urban, but I'm used to it. It
reminds me of my home water-home being
the inner sanctum of Boston Harbor.
As a kid I shot my first bluebill in the
winter marsh about a mile north of the I-95
bridge. As a teenager I did my open-water
scuba certification out ofa dive shoo on Footof-Broad Street in Srratlord. There are striped
bass and blue6sh and other seasonal soecies.
And Paul Appuzzo caught a 49-pound bass
on an Abrames fatwing not long ago.
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OF C:HFOMIO
WILO FUFY,
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I t w a s l , r t ca f i c r n o o n , , r n c lt h c l c w , r s , r
s l i g h tV S W u ' i n c l . ' lh e r i v c l i s r n u c h r v i d c r '
-l'MA,
hcrcthrn it is highcl up in thc
ancl
it's wiclcl thcrc thrur it is in Messachusctts.
At the nrorrtlr thcrc is enorrgh ro<lnrfor :r
platoon of fisl.rcrnrcn.
It wes sl:rckhiqh ticlc, with wrtcl tcmpclirtlrrcshoverinq in the (r0s. When thc
t i d c r u n s t h e b a s sn r o v e i n t o t h e c s t r r a r y s, c r
I p t r l l e c lo n m y w a r l e r s , s t n l n g L l p a s t o l l t
9 - l v c i g h t , a n c l r v , r t c h c c la s c o r n n r o n g u l l s
:rnrl terns Hcw high overhcad lool<ine fbr
b r r i t f i s h .I n a l e w h o u r s t h e s u r r r v o u l t l s e t ,
t h c a i r r v o u l d c o o l , a r - r df r s h c r m c n u , o u l c l
rlrive firr rr post-work fish whilc hcacling
h o n r e . R i e h t t h c n , h o r v o , c r ' ,I h a d t h e p l a c c
t o m y s c l f .T h e r c r v a sn r a r s h g l a s s u n t l c r m v
fcct, brachisl-rw:rtcl ncirrby, ancl thc pros;,cct
of stripeclbass clrifiing ovcr the bars ,rnd
c r u i s i n gl l o n g t h c b a n k s .
'l'here
rrlc only e handlirl of livers in Ncw
E n g l a n d t h a t r u n i l c r o s ss t a t c b o u n d a r i e s .I
think of thc (lonnccticut I{ivcr ancl of the
Androscoegin, ancl thirrk that fishing tl-rem
fron"rtip to toe woulcl be a good iclca, too.
Finding enor,rghficc time to clo so . . . well,
thatwill just havc to be arranged.
Tortr KlEn is a frcclance writcr from lloston,
Massachusctts,
and has contributecl a nr:mber
ofarticlcs to Ffi Flsh Anerica oyer thc years.
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