Newfound River, Pemigewasset River and Mad River

It was great to get out the last couple of days. I hadn’t been fishing in nearly two weeks and I heard the clear northern waters calling me. Although the temps had begun to rise a bit, several cold nights can really make a difference and rain in the north country had the water at good levels all around.

How I love wading in crystal clear river waters! There is such a sense of cleanness and freshness standing both in that water and at the same time under a canopy of green as the sunlight filters through. There is a palpable ‘rightness’ to it that I can’t find words for. Everything else disappears. The rod and line move and a fly is presented– as almost an after thought– as I take in my surroundings, until I feel that tug and the rod tip comes up. Fish on! Then it is all about the thrill of that first fish of a morning and the bend of a rod.

A certain pool in gin clear water gave up five rainbows and a salmon in a hour or less. The kind of time where you move on just for something more challenging and something different. So its next to some white water and riffles letting a streamer run with the current into another pool head and strip it back. At that first turn of the wrist, bang! Another feisty rainbow hits it hard and the athlete of the river aided by a strong current makes me think about knots and hook wire as I get him on the reel and give him some room. The five x holds and the knots are good so after a bit of  dancing and splash, he is coaxed to net and release. None of the ‘bows are large, today–they are stocked fish in that 10″ to 14″ range–but surprisingly feisty and on one occasion clearing water by a couple of feet.

Feeling kind of satisfied, my mind moves to wondering where Jimmy is. I scramble up the bank and down stream a ways to find Jimmy with a big fat grin. It seems he’s having as good a time of it as I and begins to wax poetic about flies and trout and how sometimes one fly doesn’t work and another does.

I agree and say “yup–seems like”. We are a very sophisticated lot and decide together to drive further north to a certain stretch of the Pemi, which I had recon’d the day before.

We hiked down into an area that looks more like a stretch of the Blackfoot River in Montana than the Blackfoot does and the very first cast brings up a nice brook trout. That set the tone for the next hour or so until it was again time to move on to different water and tricky wading. The rocks can be slick on the Pemi and at one time or another time, both Jimmy and I went down either butt over tea kettle or versa visa. A cool dip was needed anyway. Where is that old 5.10 rubber that Teva used to put on their sandals, anyway. These water sandals made today, are no water sandals. Sorry for the mini-rant.

I seem to remember there was a time, not long ago, where rocks covered in frog snot wouldn’t make me lose footing. Age maybe. Maybe eyesight or the need for a new prescription, or neurological damage caused by chemical laden condiments–I dunno–but I’m no goat anymore. Gouged my hand up good, but saved the rod from damage and I’ll take that.

Sixty-four degrees cool on the Pemigewasset River in July! Not bad for the trout and not bad for an unintentional dip.

Please enjoy a few pictures. Identifying geologic features removed by the department of ‘Homewater Security’.

Newfound Crawfish

Early Morning Train

A Wee Rainbow

Pemi Brook Trout

Headless Jimmy and a Brook Trout

A Fella Named Jack

Newfound River Rainbow

A Way Up on the Mad River

Mad River Downstream

New Hampshire White Mountain Water

A Boonie Hat on the Pemigewasset

Jimmy Takes a Picture--Boonie Two

~ by John McGranaghan on July 4, 2010.