Salmon Are In

Typical Salmon River King

An old saying goes: The only things that are certain are death and taxes.

Well, that adage is due for revision; around these parts, anyway.

It should claim: The only things that are certain are death, taxes and Pulaski’s salmon run.

Indeed, the river running through this Oswego County village has been on the radar of the world’s most enthusiastic anglers for a couple centuries, now.

Back in the old days the Salmon River was the best stream in the state for trophy landlocked Atlantic salmon--it was named after them, in fact.

It’s still the best spot; only now the fishing is much better.

Atlantics are the first salmon to spawn. Entering the river in summer, they do their thing and beat it back to the lake. Oh sure, late bloomers hold off running until this month, some even wait until November, but their numbers are so few, they don’t draw much attention from anglers. If they’re caught at all, it’s usually incidentally.

Kings and cohoes to the rescue. Pacific salmon don’t start running in significant quantities until mid-September, and when they do, they storm the river in such numbers you could cross it on their backs…If they weren’t so slippery, of course.

While it’s well known Pacific salmon stop feeding when they return to the river to spawn, they will hit a streamer or lure.

Talking heads believe that’s because they’re used to being the biggest kids on the block. Extremely aggressive to begin with, they naturally get meaner in route to the spawning beds, striking out at anything that gets in their way.

The main salmon run stretches through this month, with stragglers showing up into November…even later.

This month the salmon will be joined by trophy brown trout and steelhead.

Decisions... Decisions...

Holiday Browns and Chromers

By Spider Rybaak

Centerpinning at the West River Walk's last stairs, upstream of the powerhouse.

December is the best month for taking trout from the bank in the city of Oswego.

Draining 5,100 square miles, including the Finger Lakes and Oneida Lake, the river running through town carries a lot of water, an average of 6,700 cubic feet per second, according to the United States Geological Survey. Late autumn storms can raise the stream’s temperature and double its flow. Driven deep into Lake Ontario, the plume’s relatively warm current draws fish to the friendly rapids in downtown Oswego.

Last Friday water levels in the city reached 16,000 cfs, a level way too high to fish effectively from the high wall downstream of the power house. And Motel Row? Forget it, too much water to cover from shore.

By Sunday, the flow dropped to 13,000 cfs, just right for taking it to the bank.

A couple guys wading along the wall between the dam and the hydro plant scored browns and rainbows averaging 7 pounds each. Both were float-fishing with centerpin equipment. One used a bead, the other an egg sac.

Fishing from a drift boat was even better. Three guys running the rapids off Motel Row landed over a dozen steelies and browns. They were float-fishing beads with centerpin equipment.

“Center-pinning is the best way to catch steelhead,” boasted one.

Conditions were exactly what they should be in December. Surprisingly, there were very few anglers out. And it wasn’t even that cold.

Don’t be intimidated by the snow and ice. Oh, sure, you can see your breath, and getting your hands wet guarantees cold fingers. But dressing in layers and carrying a towel will keep you toasty.

Indeed, the hits alone are enough to beat the cold.

The rest of December promises more dynamite, run-off-triggered action.

January will turn the rain into ice and snow, cooling any thaw streaming over it. Oh, the fish will still bite, but not as eagerly on most days; sunny days can spur hot and furious action, however.

Anglers must wear personal flotation devices to fish the river upstream of the power house. Since the utility owns the property, it has the right to make the rules and anyone not complying with the dress code can be evicted.

View from the West River Walk upstream of the power dam.

Drift boat at Varick Dam.

A float fisherman working the tailrace at the foot of the West River Walk's high wall
while a drift boat works the Dug Out on the other side.

Jon, Fair Haven, NY, holding a decent steelie taken on a bead off Motel Row.

J.J.Elmer with a big brown he took on a bead off Motel Row.

Best Downtown Fishing Around

By
Spider Rybaak

City mallards and anglers: Varick Dam.

The city of Oswego’s miracle mile boasts the greatest trophy fishing in the country.

Lake Ontario’s second largest tributary runs through the middle of town. Draining Oneida Lake and the Finger Lakes, the Oswego River is a magnet for bank anglers targeting warmwater species like catfish, walleyes and smallmouth bass in summer. But when October nights stir autumn’s chill into the rapids, massive quantities of the lake’s biggest salmonids move into downtown’s caressing currents to find mates under the neon.

Currently, king salmon are the rage. They hang out anywhere there’s fast-water, from Bridge Street all the way to the pools below Varick Dam.

The main stage for anglers trying their luck at landing one is the Linear Park lining the west bank. Running from the power house to just south of the silos looming over the harbor near the river’s mouth, a distance of almost a mile, the fence-lined, concrete wall offers a safe platform for battling these brutes.

Action is fast and furious along the northern half of the park, particularly from the power house to the end of the middle wall channeling the deep tailrace, roughly behind, and a little north, of Larry’s Oswego Salmon Shop (315-342-2778). Larry offers advice, a full line of tackle and a fish cleaning station.

This year, the most productive bait is skein and eggs cured with Pautzke Fire Brine. Most guys float-fish the stuff; suspending it anywhere from 3 inches to a foot off bottom on a slip bobber, and ensure their bait stays at the proper depth by walking the wall at the same pace as the current.

Fly-fishermen targeting steelhead in the rapids between the dam and the north end of Leto Island (access from Leto Island is closed, so you’ll have to wade to get to the east bank), are getting more kings than chromers on estaz flies and streamers, but the number of ironheads promises to increase dramatically from now through November. Some browns are also in the fast water.

Walleyes are still in the river, too, mostly in the deeper water downstream of Utica Street. They’ll hit floating crankbaits like Bass Pros XPS Minnows and Thundersticks, and worms rigged on Dixie Spinners and dragged slowly on bottom. Be prepared to tangle with incidental steelies and brown trout.

Anglers must wear personal flotation devices to fish the river upstream of the power house.

Below the signs announcing the power company's dress-code requiring personal flotation devises beyond this point.

Charter Captain Andy Bliss unhooking a nine-pound domestic rainbow taken below the power plant.

Mike Viggiano, Nanticoke, PA, carrying a steelie he took in the rapids a little downstream of the dam.

Father and son team from Long Island and their kings.

Josh Collette (left), president of the Oswego State Fishing Club, Phil Jenkins (center), interim treasurer, and club member Jordan Rabinowitz discussing fishy subjects at West Linear Park. Sanctioned by the Student Association, "the club is for recreational purposes and to further educate the student body on ethical and sustainable fisheries," explains Collette.

Downtown Oswego’s Winter Wildlife

by Spider Rybaak

Nice brown taken behind Motel Row.

To average folks, fishing in winter is the realm of hardy types who sit around on the ice all day staring into holes at their feet and wishing for a fish to pop out…or something like that. Truth is, there’s another form of winter fishing: casting from ice into open water. And Oswego County offers the best opportunities in the East.

By best we mean the most productive and, since some are right in downtown Oswego, the safest and most convenient casting platforms imaginable.

You see, the Oswego River runs through the heart of the Port City. Linear parks paved in concrete and lined with wrought iron fences skirt both banks. Each winter, nature plants snow on the walkways and pedestrians pound an icy path through it. And although you might slip and slide a little, particularly while trying to maintain control during a trophy trout’s sizzling runs, the fencing is solid enough to prevent you from falling into the drink.

The water below each park has its own personality.

The western bank borders fast water. Spurred into agitation by tumbling over the dam and pouring out of the powerhouse’s turbines, it’s squeezed into a raging bottleneck by the Oswego Canal on the opposite shore, and by a couple of stone walls in the center of the river. 

The east side is much slower.  The locks jutting into the river below Bridge Street, and the abutment a little beyond, further divert the flow west, braking what’s left of the flow to a crawl that gently caresses the east bank.

This time of year sees water temperatures at their lowest. And while trout are classified as cold water fish, they slow right down when the water temperature drops into the low 30s. This is especially true of brown trout, the most warmwater tolerant of the breed.

Numbed by the cold, they’re lethargic, not into fighting rapids or chasing food, making the gently flowing east bank just what they’re looking for.

I went out behind Hotel Row last week to see if that formula still applied.

Sure did. Of the dozen or so anglers I ran into during the course of two days, four had big browns to show for their efforts.

A couple guys took one apiece on Berkley Twitchtail minnows jigged slowly-- at a crawl, actually—on bottom. 

A guy from Westchester County had three in a bag, including a ten-pounder. He caught them all on egg sacs still-fished on bottom.

The fourth guy tried hiding a nice brown but its tail poked out of the back of his jacket. I didn’t ask him too much…He just seemed like the type of guy who wasn’t into disclosing secrets.

The heat wave of the past couple days will raise the river’s level greatly, drawing massive quantities of browns and steelhead from the open lake. And the place they’ll focus on will be the relatively calm waters behind Hotel Row.

Still, a few of the steelies are sure to run the rapids on the west bank.

Ice row: Behind the power plant on the west bank.

Powerplant reminder to dummies: Rising wter can drown ya!

Oswego’s Rapids Carpeted in Golden Brown

By Spider Rybaak

Alex Korol, a SUNY Oswego student, holds one he landed while float-fishing a bead with a centerpin rig

This month all of New York is blanketed in the fading reds and golds of an aging autumn. But there’s still a lot of brilliance and vibrancy out there if you know where to look. And one of the best places to feast your eyes on the year’s last moments of splendid beauty is the city of Oswego.

But don’t look on shore. You see, the river running through the city is loaded with mature brown trout. Vying for mates, they’re decked out in their finest colors: dark brown backs fading into rich golden sides glimmering with red spots. There’s so many trout, in fact, the stream throbs with all the life traveling through it.

OK, that might be stretching things a bit. Still, there’s more brown trout in the deep tailrace stretching from the north end of the power dam to the tail-out where the heavy current breaks into whitewater than anyone can remember.

And it’s not like great quantities of salmonids is something new to the spot, either. Indeed, Pacific salmon pile into the tailrace in such numbers in October, the high wall seems to lean under the weight of all the anglers.

What’s unusual right now is the incredible number of trophy browns…big ones, up to 20 pounds.

No one was more surprised to see so many fish than I. Kwame Belle, a journalism major at SUNY Oswego, is doing an assignment on a “Bucket List” of stuff to do in the city of Oswego, and felt fishing should be included. I agreed.

Well, the salmon runs are over, so I called driftboat /charterboat  operator Captain Andy Bliss, (315) 591-4578, my favorite source for fishing information on the Oswego River, for suggestions.

“Browns are easy to get right now off the wall below the powerhouse,” he answered. “There’s a lot of ‘em because the water’s been so low, they’re milling around waiting for it to rise before running up to the dam.”

He wasn’t kidding. In the two hours or so Kwame and I fished, I personally saw 20 browns and five steelhead landed, and at least that many lost. (Kwame and I got zilch—so it goes, I guess.) The guys were bottom bouncing: casting out, letting the bait sink to bottom and walking it downstream. Most were using beads.

Browns are traditionally available in the river until late December.  This weekend, however, promises to be one of the year’s most propitious for a trophy: the weather’s supposed to be clear, water low and opening day of deer season should move half the anglers off the wall and into the woods, reducing competition considerably.

Kyle Buck of Hammondsport with one of his browns.

Bob from Colorado comes up to Oswego each year in November for the splendid fishing.

Kwame Belle, a SUNY Oswego student, tackles his "Bucket List" on the Oswego River.

Belle may have left fish-less, but the smile says it all!

Oswego: The Fishing’s Hot Even When it’s Slow

By Spider Rybaak

Janet gets her brown.

The past few days have seen some awfully bright sunlight steeped in hot temperatures. Not exactly ideal fishing weather, especially if you’re getting a late-morning start. But there’s nothing average about the open waters off Oswego and when temperatures are sticky and the fishin’s lazy, you’ll still hear a lot of sizzling lines and screaming drags.

This was brought home to me for the hundredth time on Tuesday. A few days earlier, Capt. Richard Stanton (Stanton Charter Service, www.stantoncharters.com; 315-685-0651) dangled an offer to take me and Oswego County Tourism’s Janet Clerkin fishing so I could get photos and quotes for an upcoming book.  We bit. Little did we know it would turn out to be the best fishing day of the year…so far.

I ran into some construction and bad traffic getting to Wright’s Landing so we started late, 8:45 a.m., to be exact. On the way out of the harbor, boats were already coming in with their limits of kings, punctuated with browns, lakers, cohos and steelhead. One guy allegedly even nailed a trophy landlocked Atlantic salmon.

We trolled for a couple hours trying to figure out what the fish were hungering for. The sun was beating down on us like the upper heat element in a toaster oven. The lake was flat. I was having some serious doubts. Having run charters for 38 years, Capt. Dick has great intuition, for finding fish…and reading clients. “The fat lady ain’t sung, yet, Spider,” he says, “and we ain’t done until we’re done.” (Or something like that).

Suddenly, one of the rods goes off. “There’s a hit,” shouts Ron Marlett, one of the captain’s buddies who came along for the ride.

As he handed Janet the rod, Capt. Dick observes: “Look at that little guy jump!”

Bright as a mirror reflecting sunlight, it comes clear out of the water like a curved, silver rocket at least four times. A couple minutes later, it’s in the boat, getting unhooked and released.

Fifteen minutes later, another rod goes off. The fish is much bigger. Janet makes short work of it, though, and after a few minutes of battle, she brings a five-pound brown trout to the net.

We no sooner set the line again and another rod trips. A powerful fish, it tormented the drag—and Janet’s tiring arms—for a couple seconds before spitting the hook back at us with no respect at all.

But there’s no rest for the weary.

Before Janet could get comfortable, another rod tip pops up then dives for the drink. Janet beats everyone to the rod again and the fight is on. The fish tears off at least 20 yards of line before stopping. The poor lady on the other end is reeling for all it’s worth trying to catch up. But the beast isn’t in a playful mood and takes off for Toronto. Janet struggles for another 10 minutes, brings the beast to the side of the boat and just as the captain’s getting the net ready, the lure comes flying back at us.

Janet sits down, Capt. Dick sets the rod again, Ron’s in the cabin feeling bad for Janet…and I’m yapping my head off; nothing important, just talking to talk…irritating everyone on board.

And then the meanest salmon in our part of the lake takes one of our Michigan Stingers. This time I’m on top of things; growling, swinging elbows “it’s my turn!!!!!,” I demand.

The 18-pound chinook took me on a whirlwind lesson in kingly behavior. Fighting like the devil one minute, then jumping, diving, racing right at me. At that point I actually thought he got off but Ron ordered “He’s  running at you, reel like crazy.”

I’m glad I listened because right about then the slack tightens as the fish makes an abrupt about face and makes the fight honest again by storming for Niagara Falls. To make a long story short, it takes me another 10 minutes to land him.

By now the heat was getting to us and everyone except Capt. Dick—he wanted to keep fishing--agreed it was a good time to split.

Oswego’s territorial waters are so salmonid friendly, the fishin’s great even when it’s slow…And that’s hard to beat.

Deadly Trio: (top to bottom) Gobey, Honey Bee and Modified Stinger.

The face of battle: Janet Clerkin.

Capt. Dick and Janet holding an average king

Browns Abound

By Spider Rybaak

Captain Lee holding Dave Rath's first fish of the day.

May’s warmth in late February, winter winds in mid-April, robins and daffodils in early March...It’s enough to make self-respecting anglers wanna hang up their rods until June. Fortunately, Lake “O” is a huge pond and its fish don’t pay much attention to today’s screwy weather patterns. And its bread-and-butter  fishery, brown trout, proves it.

This year, the pack ice that normally encircles the big pond all winter long like a pie crust was gone in February. The unseasonably warm temperatures lured anglers to the lake’s banks and piers like Northern nightcrawlers draw robins from the South. The first-of-March bite was great, with more guys catching huge browns from the bank earlier than anyone can remember.

Gutsy charter boat operations like Good Times Sportfishing of Lake Ontario , LLC (607) 768-9121; www.goodtimessportfishing. net ) embraced the propitious weather as a rare opportunity to extend their fishing season by a couple weeks and launched their boats early. Captains Nick Lee and George Haskins invited me to go with them on April 4, this year’s maiden voyage.

As luck would have it, the weather reverted to more normal patterns that morning and when I left the house at 5:30 a.m., stiff northwesterlies greeted me at the door. I went back inside to get my Spey casting gear, half expecting to be fishing the Salmon River at 6:30 a.m. instead.

The 40 years of collective fishing experience the captains packed under their belts, combined with their 30’ long Sportcraft Express with a 10 –foot beam, gave them all the confidence they needed to cast off. I was skeptical but when I came aboard and felt how solid the craft was, I figured: hey, this might work.

We spent the first half-hour or so trolling around the mouth of the Salmon River looking for water with a little color. Slightly muddy water came into view south of the “Sticks” (lights on the jetty at the mouth of the Salmon River).  We ran through it half-heartedly because this color was caused by waves stirring up the sand on the beach—productive, on occasion, but not what we were looking for.

“We didn’t get much run-off this year,” explained Capt. Lee, a local science teacher. “So the insects, worms and other delights normally pumped into the lake this time of year are in short supply. But the unseasonably warm weather has compensated by causing insects to hatch and plankton to bloom early. Bait converges on these events and the browns are sure to be there, too, “ he continued.

“Without the normal run-off, we don’t have the numerous schools of browns that hang out in the shallows most years,” added Captain Haskins.  “But the schools we do locate are bigger and we catch 90% of our fish in 10% of the water.”

We changed course to a northern heading, hoping to find some pea-green water (the color of plankton) in the Salmon River’s plume. Before we got to the “Crab Legs” (secret charter captain’s code for a local landmark) less than a mile north of the river, a nice brown hit one of the Michigan Stingers we were flatlining off planer boards.

Dave Rath, a former Oswego County legislator, and member of the County’s Tourism Advisory Council, was on board. He expected me to take the first fish. Well, I thought he should be first. We didn’t come to blows, but by the time we hashed it out and he lifted the rod, the fish was off.

And that was all right because it only took about five minutes for another fish to hit, a nice five-pounder; and five minutes later, another hits…then another. The bite was steady for the next ¼-mile or so.

When we turned the boat to run back down, all hell breaks loose. We had doubles a couple times; and three on once. While several were small, running one to two pounds, the vast majority (I stopped counting after 15) were five pounds and a couple tipped the scales at 10 or better.

The browns should stay in the shallows into next month when warm temperatures will force them deeper.

So get out there at you’re earliest chance and catch browns so close to shore, you can skip a stone from the boat to the sand dunes.

Dave Rath fighting a brown while Captain Nick Lee tries unhooking one just landed.

Captains George Haskins (left) and Nick Lee holding a couple 10-pounders, the day's best.

The good Captain's performs the day's final service.

Football Browns from the Bank

By Spider Rybaak

Jamey Bond, caretaker of Mexico Point State Park, and son Jericho with a couple of browns they took off the west breakwall off the mouth of the Little Salmon River.

Oswego County offers world-class fishing opportunities for every temperament. Take bank fishing, for instance. No matter what time of year it is, something’s hanging out close enough to shore to reach by casting. In early spring, the game fish of choice for landlubbers is the brown trout.

We’re not talking your typical two-year-old stocky that the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation throws into “cricks” to sweeten a stream angler’s chances of catching something to write home to mother about. We’re taking about veterans of a couple years of running free in Lake Ontario, growing three to five pounds, so big they’re called football browns. They resemble America’s favorite pigskin so closely, cousin Staash (rhymes with gosh) claims “if your grip is good enough to hold one of the slimy things you can throw it into the end zone, making it spin like a bullet all the way.”

While just about any Lake Ontario pier, breakwall or beach makes a good casting platform, Oswego County’s waterfront is superior because of our tributaries. After all, the Oswego (the lake’s second largest feeder) Salmon and Little Salmon Rivers run through here; as do numerous skinny creeks like Grindstone, Catfish, Rice and Sage. Slightly stained by run-off, and a couple degrees warmer than the lake, their plumes reach deep, hooking the appetites of browns, dragging them inshore to bask in the comfortable temperatures--and indulge in a feeding frenzy on all the baitfish hanging out in the balmy zone.

One of the hottest spots is off the mouth of the Little Salmon River in the hamlet of Texas. Public breakwalls line both sides at stream’s end. The western structure, the longest, is on the grounds of the Mexico Point State Park (from NY 104B, head north on Mexico Point Drive), a facility run by the Town of Mexico. The east side’s belongs to NYS Park’s Mexico Point Boat Launch (from NY 104B, head north on Cty. Rte. 40.)

Equally popular among local anglers are the stained waters where Grindstone Creek pours into the lake at Selkirk Shores State Park (head south on NY 3 about three miles from the NY 3/NY 13 intersection). While the fishing is most consistent off the park pier just north of the stream, running a lure through the current just off the mouth gives you a good chance of catching a bonus steelhead heading upstream to spawn.

Beach fishing is good off the mouth of Deer Creek, which feeds the lake a few hundred feet north of the Salmon River’s mouth. Running through a wildlife management area of the same name, get there from the NY 13/ NY 3 intersection by heading north on NY 3 for about 3 ½ miles, turning left on Rainbow Shores Road, continuing to the end, turning left on the dirt road, bearing left at the fork ½ mile later, and continuing to the WMA’s parking lot. From there, walk south along the beach to the creek’s mouth.

If you’re into urban settings, the city of Oswego offers a couple popular beach sites: one at the end of 6thAvenue on the west side of town, and another at the end of East 10th1/2 Street.

Good baits to use are blue/silver and green/silver Little Cleos, and gold or silver/black back crankbaits like Smithwick Rogues, Thundersticks and Rapalas.

A brown trout taken at Selkirk Shores State Park last weekend by the author.

Fishing scene: Pier at Selkirk Shores State Park.

Pier view of the sunset: Selkirk Shores State Park.

Football Browns in the Shallows

By Spider Rybaak

Captain Tiny holding the day's best.

Last Wednesday saw me out in a drift boat. Nothing unusual about that, I suppose, people do it all the time. But this was different: I was out of my element…way out, a few hundred yards off Mexico Point Boat Launch, in fact.

Two- to three- foot rollers lifted and dropped the boat to an extremely irregular beat. A landlubber at heart, I was holding my own in the waves, which in my troubled mind seemed like swells tossing us around like a cork in a typhoon. But Captain Ryan Gilbert’s (315-529-6427; onemorefish@twcny.rr.com) wit and disarming optimism helped me control the suspicion in my heart that the big lake was intent on swallowing our little boat. In addition, his sidekick, Norm Hall’s steely calm plastered the holes the waves tore into my confidence.

When a couple four-something footers lifted the boat and let it slide into the trough at angles so steep my nose filled with water, “Rub-a-dub-dub…Three men in a tub” started playing in my mind over and over and over… I was ready to call it quits.

Just then, we reached the spot the captain was aiming for. He slowly turned the boat around so the lines wouldn’t tangle and we started back-trolling. “We’re going with the wind now, so it’s gonna be a lot smoother,” Tiny (the captain’s nickname) promised.

We were running anywhere from 1.9 to 2.5 mph. Suddenly, without warning he hollers: “Spider, There’s a fish hitting on that planer board off to your left.”

The nasty thoughts eating away at my composure stopped biting. I went into action.

“Norm, you handle it!” I ordered. “I’m going to the back of the boat to photograph the action.”

Before I could get back there, the violent rocking of the boat reminded me the rollers were out to get me. Tiny’s broad shoulders and the gunwales provided good support, however, and a minute later, I made it to the back, sat on the motor and prepared to shoot.

“Fish off,” Norm reported.

I struggled back to my seat. By the time I got there, Norm had another fish on. He landed it. This time I stayed put and photographed him where we were.

Five minutes later, Norm’s into another fish. It jumped several times, looking like a sunbeam bouncing off the waves.

“Another nice football brown,” Captain Ryan commented while sweeping it into the net.

I was busy photographing the action when my planer board starts acting spastic. Diving, turning sharply, it heads straight for the boat at ramming speed. I lift the rod out of its holder and the fight is on.

As Tiny slips the net under it, Norm informs us, in his usual calm manner: “I got one.”

No sooner has Tiny removed the hook from mine and put the net down, Norm’s prize is at the side of the boat.

“We’re not keeping any more, are we?” Tiny asks rhetorically, and releases the fish without removing it from the water.

In the span of just over an hour we landed eight browns running from three to five pounds each and lost several more. The action was so fast and furious we didn’t notice the lake lay down. On the way back we were gently rocked by what Tiny called “left over rollers.”

After ice-out, browns seek comfort and food in warm water just off shore. When we were there, the surface temperature was 44 degrees and the fish were cruising three feet deep over water ranging from 8 to 15 feet deep.

Captain Tiny says the fish will be hanging around close to shore for at least another month. After that, they’ll head out deeper and you’ll have to find them by trolling in temperatures ranging from the high 40s to low 50s.

Yours truly with a football brown.

 

 

Norm with his first brown.

The good captain releasing a fish without even taking it out of the water.

Browns in Oswego for the Holidays

by
Spider Rybaak

Oswego native and professional fly tier David Gagnon (dgagnon5489@gmail.com) with a couple nice browns he took on a custom jig he designed and tied.

A couple days before Christmas--work squared away, Holiday gift giving on my mind--I set out to go shopping at Great Northern Mall in Clay, about 20 miles away. In the wrong lane at NY 31’s eastern entrance to the place, I look over my shoulder to see if I can slip into the right lane.  The center-pin rod stretched out on the floor in the center of my van catches my eye…

And I’m hooked.  The next thing you know, I’m past the mall’s entrance, turning onto I-481 north on a heading for Oswego--to check out the stores, I suppose?

Never happened.

When the river finally came into view on the south end of the city, its flow was perfect, more than I could resist. Run-off from the heavy rains that soaked the Finger Lakes Region a few days earlier still swelled the stream but all the sediments had dropped to the bottom by now, leaving the water high and clean, ideal for sight feeders. Intuition played with my imagination, creating thoughts of massive runs of steelies down there; and the store of human weakness in my heart drew me to the rapids like the sight of ripe road-kill draws a crow to the curb.

Crossing the river on the Utica Street Bridge, I turned left at the light, parked in the fishing access site next to the Post Office, hiked down to the river and headed upstream to fish the north corner of the west dam.

I never made it that far. As I walked the fenced-in concrete retaining wall stretching from the powerhouse to the falls, I see a guy fighting a fish in the rapids below the first gate (two gated staircases allow easy access to the river).

A minute later he lands a gold-bellied male brown of about eight pounds and tosses it on shore, in the direction of another, slightly smaller brown already wedged between the rocks.

One huge male brown decked out in autumn splendor has a way of stopping me in my tracks. A pair is enough to sweep away my inhibitions, provoking me to beg, politely and sternly: “You mind if I fish that seam between the fast water and the emergency platform upstream of you?”

“Go ahead,” the guy replies. “That’s where I got these two. Right now I’m gonna fish above the spillway, to see if there’s a steelie in there.

My first eight to 10 attempts are complete failures. Center-pinning equipment takes some getting used to. I hadn’t used it since early spring and lost my touch.

Eventually my cast hits the targeted seam. I watched the float bob downstream in perfect time with the current, carrying my bubblegum colored Berkley Power Floating Trout Worm through the strike zone. A couple seconds later it disappears.  I set the hook solidly into a feisty fish.

Before long, I’m leading a six-pound female brown to shore. Dave Gagnon, the guy who gave me his spot, works his way slowly upstream, offering to help me land my trophy. By the time he reaches me, I’ve already photographed the girl, and was preparing to release her.

“Want me to photograph you holding her?” he offered.

“Sure do. Thanks man.”

A couple high-fives later, and some serious whooping and hollering by me, Dave slowly heads back downstream; and I resume fishing.

A couple casts later, I’m into a steelie. The thing was right out’a SU mens basketball’s playbook; jumping and fast-breaking like Fab Melo in the paint. Gently coaxing the 18-inch female to shore, I remove her from the water long enough to take her picture, and release her.

Before I could wade out the five or so steps to my casting position, Dave’s into a fish. I head down to offer him assistance but he doesn’t need it. The brown is only about 14 inches, relatively easy to handle.

Releasing it, he casts out again and immediately gets another one, much bigger. After landing it, he calls it quits and heads for the fishing access site, three beautiful browns in tow; all caught on tiny jigs he designed and tied.

Another angler shows up as the sun touches the horizon and catches a brown on his third cast. He  catches another in the half hour left to fish.

Rain and snow in Central New York over the Holidays continues feeding the Oswego River and its growing fat with browns and steelhead. These conditions should remain into the second week of the New Year.

Me and my brown.

A small steelie for the Holidays.

Dave's last brown for the day.

Indian Summer on the Oswego River

Syracusan Dave Bentley with a six-lb. brown. 

Frosty nights riding the cold snap that blew through the Northeast the first week on November knocked most of the leaves off Oswego County’s trees. The majority floated gently to the ground, carpeting the woods in crackling bursts of brilliant autumn colors. Massive quantities, however, ended up in run-off, turning the Oswego River’s rapids into a raging kaleidoscope, creating headaches for anglers trying to keep the fallen foliage off their lines while fishing the high waters.

Fortunately, fall has many moods. Along with the smirk of biting rains and cold snaps comes a smiley face: Indian summer. Wednesday morning, November 9, saw one of these happy moments.

Beaming brightly when I got up, hanging in a bright blue sky washed in 50-something degrees, the sun convinced me to head up to Oswego to check out the fishing. To my delight, the river was down to summer levels. Varick Dam, which spewed a frightening torrent of foam and froth just a couple weeks ago, looked like a teenager squirting water between his front teeth. Indeed, the flow below was so low, I crossed the river in hip boots.

Not in a straight path, mind you. The ancient river bed is pretty flat, punctuated with crevices and pools. I started out at the first set of stairs just south of the power plant and zigzagged my way across, ending up at the foot of the falls on the east side.

Still, there was enough water to accommodate a steady flow of spawn heavy brown trout, late running kings—which were in pretty decent shape for this late—and caviar-minded steelhead. Just about every seam, pocket and slick in the rapids had fish.

Downstream of the powerhouse, guys were casting into the channel right at the end of the no fishing zone and walking their baits down, past the stairs to the small group that was still-fishing on bottom at the end of the wall.

Fish were evenly distributed throughout the rapids stretching from the dam to the Utica Street Bridge.

This month can be iffy but we can reasonably expect a couple more unseasonably pleasant days. It all adds up to being your best time of year to get close and personal with a whitewater, trophy brown trout; your last chance to get a spawning king juiced-up with raging hormones; and your first shot at a fall-run steelhead. And if it’s in your cards, you can even have a banner day and get all three.


While a bunch of fish are available from the safety of the fenced wall lining the river downstream of the powerhouse, wading the rapids offers a more personal sense of excitement and adventure. If you’re gonna walk the fast lane, wear traction devices on your boots, carry a wading staff to help  keep your balance, wear polaroid sunglasses so you can see bottom through the water’s glare and a personal flotation device just in case the unthinkable happens and you get swept off your feet. Always pay attention to the falls and if more water is coming over than when you started, or if you hear the siren go off followed by announcements directing you to exit the river, head for shore immediately.

After all, there’s a lot of trout and salmon in the river in autumn and we want you back to help us catch ‘em again next week, next year...

 Bob Sedorovitz of Scranton, PA, with a 13-lb brown.

  Fishing at the northwestern corner of the Varick Dam

View of the dam: like a teen-ager squirting water between his teeth.

 Larry Paccione, owner of Extinction's Custom Rods (607-588-7077), Conesville, NY, holding a late-run king.

 Clay Winter, Conesville, NY, with a nice steelie he took below the dam.

 A happy angler, who posed on condition of anonymity, holding a nice steelie and brown he took from the rapids below Varick Dam.

Gerorge White and Jackie Stocum, Corning, NY, with the four monster kings they took below Varick Dam on November 9, 2011.