Salmon River, New York
by Kevin McKay
March, 2002

And so it began. With the coming of the first day of spring brought my first visit to Salmon River, New York. Mike Mahon, his brother Dave, and his friend, Bruce picked me up at 7:30 pm. You could feel the excitement in the air as we were just like little boys, giddy with laughter and goading each other the entire trip.

Our road trip to Pulaski was uneventful. We arrived at 4:15 am after traveling through the night but Whitaker's Fly Shop and Motel didn't open until 5:00. We hung out at a nearby Dunkin' Donuts and Mike and I geared up. Even though we were deprived of major sleep, the excitement kept us wide awake.

We finally met our guide, John, at his fly shop, the "Yankee Fly &; Tackle" by 7 am.. We were informed that we were about to undertake a day of fishing under the worst possible fly fishing conditions which included high water, cloudy skies and 32 degree water. John also added that, "Real men fly fish."

We put in at the Ball Park Pool and fished the lower end of the river. The water was high and fast as we drifted through some famous pools like Black Hole, lower Black Hole and In Town pool. This all made for a great ride and a way to see other parts of the river. My first trip in a drift boat left me wanting more.

Every pool was a chance for those exciting Steelhead. At times John would disappear to walk the banks of the river looking for fish or spawning beds, but the fish were scarce and his search was to no avail.

I discovered early on that I was unprepared for the cold conditions of this trip. I only had my gortex waders with stocking feet and did my feet ache from the freezing water! Consequently I had to spend a large chunk of time in the boat warming up. I was labeled John's "problem child" among other nicknames I won't repeat. Mike, on the other hand, was toasty warm in his Cabela's Neoprene boot fitted waders.

I had told John I wanted to become a guide, which was ironic considering I was cold, caught bottom and trees and tangled often, a guide's nightmare pretty much.

We were using nymphs and egg patterns but with a long leader and no indicator, which neither Mike nor I was accustomed to. John gave us some direction on our nymphing technique which was very helpful also.

Mike did have one mishap. After we had drifted our patterns through one very nice corner pool, we had to walk back to the boat up on the bank. Mike jumped onto a small lip but with momentum kept going into the river up to his chest! Soon after John was seen pulling Mike out. John mentioned how we were high on his entertainment list.

Mike and I were explaining to John how much we appreciated all his efforts and that we wanted to book another trip with him for November. It was irrelevant that we didn't catch fish, we had a great time. This is when he told us he would take us out the next day free of charge because he really wanted us to catch fish.

Sunday we were on the water by 8:30 and fishing the middle section of the river. The conditions were actually a little worse because of the rain overnight, but we didn't care, we were excited once again to be embarking on another expedition with John.

We fished every possible spot but our luck was no better, tree hook ups, very cold... you know the details.

Above the 81 pool I was once again in the boat trying desperately to warm up. I was looking at the flies in my box that I had bought at John's that morning and in the mix was some #12 black stone flies. I put one on and headed for the water with a better sense of luck. On the fourth drift through, the line hesitated and I set the hook, I felt a couple of tugs then nothing. My heart jumped and I yelled to John and Mike but they blew it off as if I had bottom. Three more drifts through, my line was ripped off my real and heading for the center of the river so I yelled, "Fish on!" For the first time in my life I felt my fly line turn into backing as the fish kept going to the center of the raging river. Then... nothing. Broken off, the fish, fifteen to twenty pounds, swam away. With high fives all around, my luck had changed in an instant!

My bad luck transferred to Mike and John as Mike's hands became cold and John fought the trees behind him. The best site was when I spotted John taking off his shirts because he had fallen in the river. He was hoping I hadn't seen him.

Not long after, I was back drifting my black stone fly through the same hole and on the second drift hit another fish. This time the fish only went out about ten to twenty feet and I was able to take some line. Just as John said to get below the fish, it took off like a bullet down the river. Again I was quickly losing backing and I went from walking to a dead run down the river through pockets of water. At one point I took a dive in the water but somehow managed to keep my rod up in the air and was back on my feet in an instant! The line kept going but I came upon an area that was questionable so I gave the fish some pressure and it started to give but I was no match for this fish and it was off. I let out a holler and walked back to John and Mike where high fives were called for again.

So there we were, five o'clock, our full day of fishing behind us, when John tells us he had one more spot to try. It was comparable to a brook with a trickle of water running through but closer to the dam was about four feet of water and maybe thirty feet wide. I caught a seven or eight pound steelhead and even in that little bit of water I had trouble getting the fish in, so there was no way I would have landed the previous two I had on. We stayed there for a while in hopes Mike would get lucky, but no more were to be found.

Fish or no fish, we would return to Salmon River and hire John. He made the trip memorable and he went way above and beyond what we expected. I hope he had as much fun as we did. My thanks go to him.

For more information of fishing the Salmon River contact Dawn and John Rucando