Trout Blitz

Trout Unlimited is sponsoring a wild/native trout citizen science effort to help map out healthy wild and native trout populations in the U.S. This effort relies upon citizen scientists to report data about wild and native trout populations.

What is citizen science? Well, it's where you become the scientist as a "data gatherer" (i.e. angler) and conduct science by catching fish and reporting your catch. This provides data for scientists on the location and species in a particular watershed.

As soon as I started reading this my "secret fishing hole" radar went off. Report where I caught fish? Wild fish? Umm, No. Well, maybe.

The interface on the TU iNaturalist site is pretty straight forward. I entered the information about my trip in a minute or so. The hardest part of recording the location, both technically and psychologically, is the GPS part. But I conquered both challenges pretty quick using Google Maps and a feature on the iNaturalist site.

First, you need the GPS coordinates. Google Maps can provide this. Find the approximate location on Google Maps, right click on the location where you caught the fish, and select "What's here?". The Latitude and Longitude appear on the upper left of the screen.

Second, you need to see the selection box below the iNaturalist map that says "Change Geoprivacy". Change that to "Obscured". That way only the scientists get the data on the "where" and the public gets something that's vague but not really all that helpful.

You can see the public version of my "Obscured" entry below. There are no map coordinates, only the reference to "Fairfield County".

This seems like a great way for us all to get involved in fisheries science. I encourage you to check out the website and start reporting your (obscured) catch of wild and native trout.

Kids & Trout & Clean Water

The kids in the Candlewood Valley TU chapter's Trout in the Classroom classes have cooked up some public services posters for keeping our streams healthy. Head over to CVTU's Facebook page and take a look (and vote with a "Like").

Point at it!

Slough Creek is a tributary of the Lamar River which in turn is a tributary of the Yellowstone. It is a delightful stream that winds its way down from mountain meadows way up in Montana, crosses over the fat, imaginary boundary line into Yellowstone National Park, then into Wyoming, before it meanders down to the Lamar.

As part of the Yellowstone drainage Slough Creek should be chock full of Yellowstone Cutthroat Trout (YCT). They're there for sure. But one will also find a few Rainbows and hybrids and who knows what else.

According to Mike Ruhl, a Fisheries Research Scientist at Yellowstone National Park and the lead guy for fish conservation in the rivers and streams of the park, Rainbow Trout were stocked in the Lamar River in 1938 and in another tributary of the Lamar, Soda Butte Creek, in 1937.

Additionally, Westslope Cutthroat Trout (you can't make this stuff up) were stocked into tributaries of the Yellowstone drainage, notably the Lamar, in the early 20s. These are great trout streams so it was very easy for these legacy non-natives to settle into their new homes. And once you're in the neighborhood you might as well visit other nearby streams. And they have.

We took a hike up Slough Creek on Thursday. At least I think it was Thursday. The cumulative effect of PBRs was beginning to take its toll. Regardless, one day two weeks ago we hiked into bear country to find some trout.

A fearless walk in bear country. I let everyone go up ahead while I checked to make
sure we didn't get ambushed from the rear.

Rich Hohne, Simms Marketing Manager Extraordinaire
boulder hopping in the canyon. Source: Rebecca Garlock.

There's a steep, boulder strewn canyon about a half mile or so upriver from the campground and that's where the fishy water starts. Above there is a meadow, Upper Slough Creek, where some lunkers are rumored to live. We split at the canyon with the more patient heading up to the meadow and those of us who just couldn't wait any longer to wet a line set out to work the canyon's pockets.

There was a sweet little plunge pool along the near bank that was well guarded by a leaning pine. My first cast got a look, the second a strike and then I did my best to spook the whole damn thing. All in all the first hour or so on the water was unproductive though others found fish.

After hopping some rocks and wading the rapids Rebecca Garlock, Marc Payne and I decided to fish downstream in some slower water that just begged to be fished. We all managed some smaller fish, mostly Cutthroats with one Rainbow in the mix, but we lacked a satisfying tug on the line.

The Wooley Bugger Rules

After another hour of working along a gravel bar with Rebecca I decided to return to the foot of the canyon and fish the fast water where earlier Marc had seen a larger fish roll. I sensed a Wooley Bugger hatch coming off so I tied on my best #8 Olive imitation and went to work.

On my third swing the fly stopped dead and the rod bent with a curve that was the inverse of the smile that immediately lit my face. This was a heavy fish that made a short run to the deep water of the immense pool where he tried to hide to no avail.

The fight wasn't dramatic. Some heavy tugging occurred and there was the occasional swirl on the surface but for the size and weight of the fish I would have expected more energy. That's not to say the fight was short but I would have appreciated a leap or two. In fact, the most pulse livening dimension of the fight was me praying for the tippet and knots to hold.

Marc fishing the run at the bottom of the canyon.

I was disappointed that Rebecca and Marc weren't there to see the battle. Part of that was ego driven but I also relish the camaraderie that is borne of shared success and without someone to share it with it only felt like half a fish.

My telepathic powers must have been enhanced by my excitement because when I looked up a few moments later I saw the two of them coming around the bend on the far side of the river. They were waving and were excited; no doubt from seeing the bend in my rod.

As I scooped the fish into the net I looked up and exclaimed in a loud and confident voice "Big Fish!".

And it was not a lie. The fish easily exceeded the seventeen inch opening on my net and was so fat that I couldn't measure it's circumference by connecting the fingers and thumbs of my two hands. It was fat, fat, fat. And long.

Trying to pick a pocket without luck.
Source: Marc Payne

Rebecca echoed her excitement by shouting in an equally confident and loud voice "Bear!"

Now I have only been fishing for a few years but I was pretty sure that this was a trout and not a bear. Then Marc shouted something about a bear and then Rebecca said "On your side!" and my fishing brain slowly yielded to cro-magnon brain and processed this whole "bear" thing and it dawned upon me that my special moment with a large trout was being trumped with the threat of mauling by a large furry beast.

"Where?", I shouted back.

"On your side" came the reply.

Yes, I know that but if it's not behind me (it wasn't, I checked) and I can't see it so I need more information.

"Where?" I asked again and got the same reply. Okay, that was stupid. Maybe I should ask a different question.

With a flash of brilliance I said "Point at it!"

She did. Somewhere vaguely downstream well out of view.

Now I started bargaining with myself. Surely the threat was not imminent. For all I knew the bear was a mile away, had one eye and a limp and wouldn't be here for days, if ever. Surely I had time to unhook this magnificent beast, snap a few photos and bask in the adulation of my angling comrades.

But both Marc and Rebecca renewed their pleas for me to join them on the non-bear side of the river and since the fish managed to roll out of the net as I considered this, I was immediately faced with a logistical problem that was soon solved when I grabbed the leader and snapped off the fish; the olive bugger swam away with its new friend.

I moved around the pool to the shallow riffle and saw the bear for the first time. It was on my side of the river, on the bank, about one hundred yards away. Black bear, probably. Smaller than I expected but still a good sized beast at a distance.

Swimming bear. Who's side of the river is safe now?
Source: Rebecca Garlock

I crossed over to the "safe" side of the river and moved downstream a bit to get a better look at the thing. It was then that we noticed the bear was also crossing to the "safe" side of the river. This was no surprise to me as I have been told that bears are safety oriented since I was a young'un.

We were joined by another angling couple who also saw the bear so now the five of us stood watching the bear swim upstream towards us. It turns out that I was the only one carrying bear spray so I was nominated to stand in front of everyone and to do something to prevent mauling.

The bear wandered along the bank for a bit moving in our general direction. Then it disappeared behind a small rise at the edge of the gravel bar and then reappeared right at the top of that rise looking at us. Ten yards away. Maybe fifteen. Not more than fifteen. This was close enough.

I gave the bear a firm "Hey, bear" in the same loud and confident voice used earlier. I wanted to put it on notice that a whole world of hurt was about to come down on it -- assuming I pointed the bear spray in the right direction and didn't gas us all before we were lunched upon.

The bear halted and gave us a "Where the hell did all of you come from!" look before quickly turning and trundling off into the woods. Of course, before he departed he paused in a clearing and answered the age old question. Later we noted that the bear wasn't so much coming towards us as he was following the path the winds along the river's edge.

Marc went back downstream to fish the water the bear had chased encouraged him off of and I went back upstream with Rebecca to see if lightning would strike twice.

No joy.

Marc, Rebecca and I on Slough Creek. That beach over my left shoulder is Bear Beach

The big fish I caught was sadly not a Cutthroat. Nor was it a Rainbow. It was a hybrid. It had the slashes on the throat but it was spotted heavily like a Rainbow. I'm not sure if it was hybridized with the Yellowstone Cutties or some hardy Westslope from generations past but regardless it is the poster child for what needs to change in this particular watershed -- Rainbows Out, Cutties In.

I should have killed it though I'm not sure if that'd been legal.

Finding a hybrid that large in a river that is thought of as a stronghold for Cutties is surely another sign of why the Conservation Plan needs to move forward. Mike Ruhl mentioned that the boulder strewn canyon we fished was once thought to be a natural barrier but they now know they'll have to create some sort of constructed barrier before restoration efforts can begin.

The plan for eliminating Rainbows and early hybrids from Upper Slough Creek (above the Canyon) will included electrofishing as well as harvest by anglers.

Where do you (and I) sign up?

Well, I'll tell you a bit about how anglers are helping research and conservation efforts next week.

A quick photo taken of the Franken hybrid shortly before the potential non-mauling.
I loved that Olive Bugger. I will miss it.

Editor’s note: In June, Trout Unlimited, along with Simms, the Yellowstone Park Foundation and the Outdoor Blogger Network, held an essay contest. Two winners, Marc Payne and I, were selected to attend the second annual TU Blogger Tour–this year’s tour took place July 24-28 in Yellowstone National Park.

Setting the stage

Storm clouds above Yellowstone Lake. Invaders below.

A 7:15 a.m. flight requires you to be up and on the road early. Fortunately, the Jackson airport is close to town and small; there were no lines at check-in or at security. And, you get to see that early morning light on the Tetons. Quite an improvement over Laguardia.

Clear Creek is a spawning tributary that has been used
as a benchmark for Yellowstone Cutties for decades.
Source: National Park Service

As I sat outside of security putting on my boots a woman sat next to me and stated that she was homesick and ready to go home. She asked me of I felt the same. I said, "No, I could stay here forever."

Coming home brings me back to the beginning. While there are many thoughts and memories yet to be cataloged from my trip to Yellowstone, on the flight home I found myself rereading the Native Fish Conservation Plan for Yellowstone National Park. I now have terrific context through which to view this plan.

As the plan's title indicates the true purpose is to restore and protect native fish in the waters of the park. This is important not only for the fishery itself, but for the entire ecosystem that is dependent upon these native fish being where they're supposed to be.

The best example of why the natives are important to Yellowstone is in the displacement of native Yellowstone Cutthroat Trout by invasive Lake Trout in Yellowstone Lake. Over 30 species, from Grizzly Bears to Osprey to Mink, count on the Yellowstone Cutthroat making spawning runs into rivers and streams where some of them can be eaten.

Historical ranges and watersheds for native trout.
Source: National Park Service

You can't trade Lakers for Cutthroat in this example because Lakers don't run up the tributaries. Lakers spawn in the lake in waters too deep to be accessed by wildlife. It is a case where not having natives isn't a philosophical issue but a fundamental  one. They are not available as food for animals. And they're not available to most anglers.

And more importantly, the restoration of natives is in line with everything the park and the National Park Service is legally mandated to be:

"....preserves abundant and diverse wildlife in one of the largest remaining intact wild ecosystems on earth...." - March 1, 1872 Act of Congress creating Yellowstone Park.

"[The National Park Service] shall ...conserve the scenery and the natural and historic objects and the wild life therein and to provide for the enjoyment of the same in such manner and by such means as will leave them unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations."  - NPS Organic Act of 1916

So with a legal, regulatory and natural mandate to preserve and restore these fish populations, what the heck are they doing?

The Plan has the following goals:.

• Reduction in the long-term extinction risk for fluvial Arctic grayling (GRY), westslope cutthroat trout (WCT), and Yellowstone cutthroat trout (YCT);
• Restoration and maintenance of the important ecological role of native fishes; and
• Creation of sustainable native fish angling and viewing opportunities for the public.

I especially like that last one.

Natives have been under attack for generations.
Source: National Park Service

These goals are simple to understand and far more difficult to realize. Not only has the unofficial introduction of the Lake Trout had a stunning impact on the Yellowstone Lake Cutties but so has decades of official stocking by the park. While stocking of trout ended in the 50's there are currently wild populations of Rainbow, Brook and Brown trout in many waters in the park including the marquee rivers. Native trout are at an all-time low in many waters.

The plan divides the conservation approaches and measurements between Yellowstone Lake and its tribs and all other rivers, streams and lakes in the park.

For Yellowstone Lake and the affected area measurable goals include:

• Increase large-scale suppression of lake trout (LKT) to reduce the population by 25% each year (annual fishing mortality rate of 0.56).
• Maintain surface water access for spawning cutthroat trout in at least 45 (75%) of the 59 known, historical spawning tributaries.
• Recover YCT abundance to the average observed during the five years following LKT discovery (1995–1999; average of 12,800 spawning YCT at Clear Creek). 

For everything else, they'll measure success by:

• Preserve and/or restore genetically unaltered YCT to maintain their current spatial extent in streams (3,300 km, which is 75% of the 4,400 km that historically contained YCT).
• Restore genetically unalteredWCT until they occupy at least 200 km (20% of 1,000-km historical WCT distribution).
• Restore fluvial GRY until they occupy at least 200 km (20% of 1,000-km historical GRY distribution).

For Yellowstone Lake, netting is the current strategy to remove the Lakers though going after spawning grounds is something that will be piloted this fall. There's a bit of a technology leap required to make it work. I'll have a post later that will describe the work being done on the lake.

On the streams, creating fish barriers or utilizing natural barriers will be the first stage in a strategy that will eliminate invasives and then repopulate with pure strain natives. Again, that'll be another post for how they'll do it including a fascinating tale of how native Westslope Cutthroat populations, once thought long gone, were rediscovered.

So, enough about science and policy. I'll follow this up with a fishing story on Wednesday. Not only is it a tale of fishing for natives but there's a peek at the impact of invasive trout as well as a bear story all wrapped into one.

Marc fishing the Gibbon River. Brown Trout are the norm here. West Slope Cutthroat should be here.

Editor’s note: In June, Trout Unlimited, along with Simms, the Yellowstone Park Foundation and the Outdoor Blogger Network, held an essay contest. Two winners, Marc Payne and I, were selected to attend the second annual TU Blogger Tour–this year’s tour took place July 24-28 in Yellowstone National Park.

The end of the beginning

Saturday afternoon I stood in a parking lot in Yellowstone National Park and said goodbye to some extraordinary people. In a week filled with several once-in-a-lifetime opportunities in a place that defies superlatives it was the people who made the week most special and unique.

I'm going to need a bunch of posts to cover the conservation landscape of the park, the people who make it happen, and, of course, the fishing. Expect that I'll parse the experience apart and hopefully bring it together into something that is cohesive.

I'll spend the next few days with my family out here in Yellowstone seeing the sights and sharing the story of Cutthroat in the park so it will continue to be quiet here on the blog. And then I'm going to have a few days of work to catch up on so it may be next weekend before things get back to something resembling normal though the content will be anything but.

For now, here's a picture that speaks immediately to why we were there and what really matters.

Slough Creek Cutthroat. Stay tuned for a tale of a larger Cutthroat,

Posted with Blogsy

One more time for Bristol Bay

The folks over at Save Bristol Bay are asking you to send emails to your reps and the President to try and kill this thing.

It's easy. It take about two minutes. Please do it.

Why Native Trout?

Ted Williams, one of the most vocal and adamant conservation writers out there, answered a few questions in the most recent issue of Trout Magazine. One of the questions that he answered is "How are native trout special?" and he gives one of the best answers I've seen to date.

"Native trout are special in the way that all wild creatures are special -- not because they're beautiful (although they are), not because they're fun to catch (although they are), no because they're good to eat (although they are), not because they "are" anything, but simply because they are...."

TU members can read the whole interview either online or in the print version of the magazine.

UPDATE: You can find the complete Ted Williams interview on the TU Blog

On the Stream

Vigorous Wild Brown on a stream hidden in plain view

This weekend I managed to spend more hours than I could possibly have hoped for on a small stream near the house. There's part of me that would have liked to have spent all those hours fishing, but I didn't. Don't be too quick to weep, I fished, but I also spent time working with TU to assess the health of the stream by sampling the macroinvertebrates and I also spent a few hours strolling in and along the stream taking pictures and playing with the video camera.

It's going to take a bit to sort through the video to see if there's any gold there and I promise to tell a bit more about the macroinvertebrate sampling later this week. But the fishing, there's time to write a bit about the fishing.

The day started with the bug sampling (that's the technical term) and after about four hours of wading around the stream sorting stoneflies from caddis from mayflies I did ache to cast a rod. We sample in the riffles and all those lovely pools below them dance and glide alluringly.

Bycatch

One particular stream that Sam and I sampled was one I hadn't fished in quite some time. I also had not fished this upper stream in years. This good section requires a bit of doing to access or a long walk from the parking lot. In the slim periods that are usually reserved for fishing I normally don't have the willpower to pass the poorer water to head up to this stretch.  It's a few good runs with lots of pockets and plunges in between. It was time to reacquaint myself.

Fall days on the water are a special treat. If you can catch the foliage in full splendor so much the better but the shortening days and cool air keep most anglers from the water. That's the special charm, a bit of solitude.

Trouty pockets

Coming back to the water in later afternoon the only person I met was a dog walker with a inquisitive but non-swimming yellow Lab; the best kind. I started working upstream. I put a BH Hot Spot Hare's Ear below a Irresistible Adams and worked some pockets and small eddies. The Adams was impossible to see in the heavy water so I added a bit of strike putty above the fly so that I could at least get an indication of where it was.

The first fish came quickly. It gave a good tug and a few leaps. The thing unhooked itself but not before I saw the bright orange belly of a Brook Trout. This stream used to be known (you know, one of those secrets that wasn't much of a secret) as a good Brook Trout spot but an oil spill and a couple of dry summers during the past decade stressed those poor fish so that they're more of a footnote in this brook's history. But fish early was a good sign; I hoped for more.

I spent an hour working about a quarter mile of water and managed a handful of nice Browns and as many tugs that took a lesson from the first Brookie and parted ways before we even met. It worked out so that there was about one fish in each spot you'd expect to find them and if I missed the fish I'd move on.

Another Brown falls for the Hot Spot Hares Ear

There's a place where the river take a good turn and heads into thicker cover that makes casting a bear. It's good water to fish but I was looking for low frustration fishing and with a nine foot rod would have spent a bunch of time playing the trees instead of trout so I moved back downstream of the car and fished back up.

There are four longs runs in this section and the fishing remained good. Another handful of Browns, a few Dace and a fine cigar came to the net. All the Browns were more than eight inches or so which is a very healthy and large fish for such a small stream.

I was pleased to see so many healthy Browns. It was sad not to have caught any Brookies, as they're my favorite of all trout shaped fish, but I was glad to see that this wild trout stream actually had wild trout. I sure enjoy catching stocked trout as much as the next guy but knowing there are wild trout out there gives me hope that humanity might just have a chance.

And another

I refer to this as No Fish Pool. It's not an ironic name.

I swear, there was a trout here a moment ago. See his tail slipping between my fingers.

Brookie Pool (though not this time. This time it was Dace and Brown Pool)

Nothing is over until we decide it is!

[Chris W. enters the Delta Tau Chi TU Chapter meeting. Chapter members are laying about. Bobbins swing slowly under vises, half finished Vladi Worms clamped in their jaws. Bamboo rods are stacked in the corner. Jonny absentmindedly snaps a Tenkara rod open and closed.]

Chris W: Hey! What's this lying around shit?

Steve Z: Well, what the hell we s'posed to do, you moron?

Jonny: War's over, man. Pebble Mine Limited Partnership dropped the big one.

Chris W: Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!

Jonny: Germans?

T.J.: Forget it, he's rolling.

Chris W: And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough... [pauses to remember the rest of the phrase] ...the tough get goin'! Who's with me? Let's go! [runs out, alone; then returns]

Chris W: What the eff happened to the anglers I used to know? Where's the spirit? Where's the guts, huh? This could be the greatest fight of our lives, but you're gonna let it be the worst! "Ooh, Alaska is way over there, Chris, and they're a big powerful company with dirtball politicians backing them." Well, just kiss my butt from now on! Not me! I'm not gonna take this! Hedge fund financiers, dead men! Lazy regulators, dead! Pebble Limited Partnership—

Jonny: Dead! Chris' right. Psychotic, but absolutely right. We gotta take these bastards. Now we could do it with conventional weapons, but that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires we write politicians, that we fund organizations like Save Bristol Bay and that we join organizations like Trout Unlimited. And, if necessary, we do a really futile and stupid gesture on somebody's part.

Chris W: And we're just the guys to do it.

Jonny: Let's do it.

Chris W: LET'S DO IT!!

Eat me Pebble Mine

I've fished the Kvichak River. I've roamed the tundra near where Pebble Mine will be dug. This land is stunningly beautiful in it's wildness. Tens of thousands of square miles of tundra dotted with countless ponds. Sagebrush. Willow. Ptarmigan. Moose. Elk. Bear. Rainbow Trout. Grayling. Pike. Humans.

And everything is tied to the biomass brought into this environment each year by the legendary Salmon runs. During the height of the run 600,000 Sockeye Salmon enter the watershed each day. And that's only the Kvichak River's contribution. And those Sockeye need the tiny tributaries for spawning.

Pebble Mine will dig a pit two miles wide and several thousand feet deep smack in the middle of those spawning grounds.

On this map you can see where the pictures below
were taken.

This is not a place where a big hole in the ground belongs much less all the poisons that such an industrial enterprise will create.

It must be stopped.

Go to Save Bristol Bay's website and learn more. Help organizations such as them and Trout Unlimited by advocating on behalf of this fishery, its people and its wildlife.

Clearing Storm on the Kvichak River. This is about 30
miles from where the mine will be.

Tony expressing the joy and wonder of being up on the tundra

A quick video of some Salmon I saw (and caught) this past September. If Pebble Mine screws up, these are the fish and fisheries that die. Forever.

Thanks to the Outdoor Blogger Network for suggesting this topic and to Kirk for inspiring me to break my strike and chime in. Now I'm back on strike. See y'all after the fishing.

Up the Poudre Blogs for TU

I've been following the bloggers who TU took up to Montana to cover their conservation efforts. Of the posts from yesterday I thought Sanders struck the right balance between fishing and conservation in a well written piece. Go over and give him a read.