Westfield River
Where: Westfield River
When: 16 April 1996
With: Solo
I'm a-going fishing, all of the time,
My baby's going fishing too.
Bet your life, that your sweet wife
Is gonna catch more fish than you.
Little fishies bite if you've got good bait,
That's a little tip that I would like to relate.
With my pole, and my line,
I'm a-going fishing, yes I'm going fishing,
And my baby's going fishing too.
- Taj Mahal
I had this song playing on my tape deck when I got onto the Turnpike, heading west. I'd hoped to get out at the same time as Jane and Andy (7:30), but I'd neglected to pack up the night before so I didn't get going until 8:30. The weather was perfect...sunny, cool, a few clouds and a light breeze...and traffic was light. I took a slightly different route that avoided downtown Northhampton and made it to the parking area for the Westfield River by 10:00. I decided to forgo the waders, opting instead for scuba boots, river sandals, and shorts for the lower portion of my anatomy. Up top I had a long sleeve shirt, my fishing vest, and my old faithful canvas hat.
I made it to the water around 10:30, after walking through the Indian Hollow camping area. A couple of women were there, packing up their camp. They had some horse trailers, so evidently they'd been using the campsite as a base camp for some trail riding. Very nice. I got down to the water and started upstream. This was the only section of the river I hadn't explored yet (between Indian Hollow and the campsite at Mr. Beaver's Paradise) and I wanted to see if there were any good spots.
Just upstream of Indian Hollow, there was a section with a deep undercut under one bank, so I started fishing in there. No luck, except for small minnows which kept sinking my fly, so I continued upstream. For the most part the river up there was wide, shallow, and flat. I took my time, casting into each promising spot - mostly small hollows behind boulders in the current - without any bites. I stopped for lunch around noon, resting on a rock by the shore.
After I finished, I started upriver again and saw what I think might have been a bear! It was maybe 75 yards upstream, right on the shore, heading into the underbrush, but it stopped for a moment and was looking downstream at me before it was gone. I only saw it for an instant, so I can't be positive, but it looked like a small black bear. Maybe 3 feet tall at the shoulders. It certainly wasn't moving like a dog and it was too big to be a beaver or an otter or a muskrat, so "bear" is all that's left. I crossed to the other side of the river, giving it a wide berth, and walked up to where I'd seen it but there was no sign of it. I kept watch the whole time on my side of the river too, just in case Mama Bear were around, but again, nothing. I kept looking back as I continued upstream, hoping it would re-appear, but it never did.
By this time, I was just below the big pool at Mr. Beaver's Paradise, so I headed out into the current at a wide flat spot, planning to cross and go up the east side of the gorge. When I was halfway across, there was a rise about 30 feet away, so I decided to stop and fish. I got strikes at my casts, but nothing hooked on so I headed for a big rock in the middle of the water, figuring to get the advantage of height. Just before I got to the rock I slipped and submerged up to my chest, soaking everything in my vest and making a big noise. So much for the fish, I figured, as I climbed out and started to dry my things out. Then I looked in the water and saw three big fish, just cruising along.
I started casting, without any luck. A few times, I had some interest in my lure, but no takers, so I switched to a different fly (a dry Adams to some sort of gray nymph). Again, some interest, and then one of them took it! I took my time bringing it in, at the same time getting my net, camera, and hook extractor ready. Finally I climbed down from the rock and brought it in and it was a beauty. Maybe 16 inches long and at least a couple of pounds. Trout (sorry, I don't know the species). I got a picture of him in the net, then went to take out the hook and found it was already out! I'd been lucky to land him. Finally I took him out of the net, held him a bit while he revived, and then watched him swim off to rejoin his friends.
I cast a few more times, being the greedy sort that I am, and then moved up to the gorge. There were a few rises, so I had hopes for more catches, but no such luck. At one point though I saw a school of 8-10 inch trout swim by. Maybe 20-30 of 'em! Unbelievable.
After the gorge, I continued upstream. I mostly just walked at this point, aiming to get to the pool where I'd caught my trout the last time I was at this river, though I did cast into a few pools along the way. Finally I came to the pool I had in mind. It wasn't where I'd thought, by the way. I'll have to revise my write-up of that camping/fishing trip. Anyway, I recalled that Bill had said he'd seen BIG fish in there before, so I climbed up on some rocks and sure enough, there were 2 or 3 good sized trout swimming around, along with a bunch of small guys. I cast a number of times from below the pool but got nothing, so I moved upstream, tossing the fly in from a number of spots. I could see the fish, but they just weren't interested in what I was offering. I wound up above the pool, at the spot where I'd had luck before, and finally got a strike. As soon as I started to pull in the line I knew it was very small. It turned out to be a little 4 incher. Oh well.
I let it go and continued my loop around the pool, now moving out into the river. I cast into the pool a few times and finally decided to call it quits. As I reeled in though, I found I had a fish on the line. I thought it was another small one at first, but then realized it had some bulk to it. It turned out to be smaller than my first fish, but still a good size (12-14 inches). Also a trout. Unfortunately, I also found it had swallowed my fly. I made one attempt to get it out but wound up just cutting the line and letting the fish keep it. Again, I got a photo before releasing him back to the pool.
Figuring the loss of the fly was a sign, I decided to quit for the day and headed back to the car along the access road. It was about 3:30. Five hours of fishing, three fish, not bad. I got back to the car, drove home, and arrived within moments of Jane and Andy. They were still in the garage in fact, just getting out of the car. A nice day off.
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When: 16 April 1996
With: Solo
I'm a-going fishing, all of the time,
My baby's going fishing too.
Bet your life, that your sweet wife
Is gonna catch more fish than you.
Little fishies bite if you've got good bait,
That's a little tip that I would like to relate.
With my pole, and my line,
I'm a-going fishing, yes I'm going fishing,
And my baby's going fishing too.
- Taj Mahal
I had this song playing on my tape deck when I got onto the Turnpike, heading west. I'd hoped to get out at the same time as Jane and Andy (7:30), but I'd neglected to pack up the night before so I didn't get going until 8:30. The weather was perfect...sunny, cool, a few clouds and a light breeze...and traffic was light. I took a slightly different route that avoided downtown Northhampton and made it to the parking area for the Westfield River by 10:00. I decided to forgo the waders, opting instead for scuba boots, river sandals, and shorts for the lower portion of my anatomy. Up top I had a long sleeve shirt, my fishing vest, and my old faithful canvas hat.
I made it to the water around 10:30, after walking through the Indian Hollow camping area. A couple of women were there, packing up their camp. They had some horse trailers, so evidently they'd been using the campsite as a base camp for some trail riding. Very nice. I got down to the water and started upstream. This was the only section of the river I hadn't explored yet (between Indian Hollow and the campsite at Mr. Beaver's Paradise) and I wanted to see if there were any good spots.
Just upstream of Indian Hollow, there was a section with a deep undercut under one bank, so I started fishing in there. No luck, except for small minnows which kept sinking my fly, so I continued upstream. For the most part the river up there was wide, shallow, and flat. I took my time, casting into each promising spot - mostly small hollows behind boulders in the current - without any bites. I stopped for lunch around noon, resting on a rock by the shore.
After I finished, I started upriver again and saw what I think might have been a bear! It was maybe 75 yards upstream, right on the shore, heading into the underbrush, but it stopped for a moment and was looking downstream at me before it was gone. I only saw it for an instant, so I can't be positive, but it looked like a small black bear. Maybe 3 feet tall at the shoulders. It certainly wasn't moving like a dog and it was too big to be a beaver or an otter or a muskrat, so "bear" is all that's left. I crossed to the other side of the river, giving it a wide berth, and walked up to where I'd seen it but there was no sign of it. I kept watch the whole time on my side of the river too, just in case Mama Bear were around, but again, nothing. I kept looking back as I continued upstream, hoping it would re-appear, but it never did.
By this time, I was just below the big pool at Mr. Beaver's Paradise, so I headed out into the current at a wide flat spot, planning to cross and go up the east side of the gorge. When I was halfway across, there was a rise about 30 feet away, so I decided to stop and fish. I got strikes at my casts, but nothing hooked on so I headed for a big rock in the middle of the water, figuring to get the advantage of height. Just before I got to the rock I slipped and submerged up to my chest, soaking everything in my vest and making a big noise. So much for the fish, I figured, as I climbed out and started to dry my things out. Then I looked in the water and saw three big fish, just cruising along.
I started casting, without any luck. A few times, I had some interest in my lure, but no takers, so I switched to a different fly (a dry Adams to some sort of gray nymph). Again, some interest, and then one of them took it! I took my time bringing it in, at the same time getting my net, camera, and hook extractor ready. Finally I climbed down from the rock and brought it in and it was a beauty. Maybe 16 inches long and at least a couple of pounds. Trout (sorry, I don't know the species). I got a picture of him in the net, then went to take out the hook and found it was already out! I'd been lucky to land him. Finally I took him out of the net, held him a bit while he revived, and then watched him swim off to rejoin his friends.
I cast a few more times, being the greedy sort that I am, and then moved up to the gorge. There were a few rises, so I had hopes for more catches, but no such luck. At one point though I saw a school of 8-10 inch trout swim by. Maybe 20-30 of 'em! Unbelievable.
After the gorge, I continued upstream. I mostly just walked at this point, aiming to get to the pool where I'd caught my trout the last time I was at this river, though I did cast into a few pools along the way. Finally I came to the pool I had in mind. It wasn't where I'd thought, by the way. I'll have to revise my write-up of that camping/fishing trip. Anyway, I recalled that Bill had said he'd seen BIG fish in there before, so I climbed up on some rocks and sure enough, there were 2 or 3 good sized trout swimming around, along with a bunch of small guys. I cast a number of times from below the pool but got nothing, so I moved upstream, tossing the fly in from a number of spots. I could see the fish, but they just weren't interested in what I was offering. I wound up above the pool, at the spot where I'd had luck before, and finally got a strike. As soon as I started to pull in the line I knew it was very small. It turned out to be a little 4 incher. Oh well.
I let it go and continued my loop around the pool, now moving out into the river. I cast into the pool a few times and finally decided to call it quits. As I reeled in though, I found I had a fish on the line. I thought it was another small one at first, but then realized it had some bulk to it. It turned out to be smaller than my first fish, but still a good size (12-14 inches). Also a trout. Unfortunately, I also found it had swallowed my fly. I made one attempt to get it out but wound up just cutting the line and letting the fish keep it. Again, I got a photo before releasing him back to the pool.
Figuring the loss of the fly was a sign, I decided to quit for the day and headed back to the car along the access road. It was about 3:30. Five hours of fishing, three fish, not bad. I got back to the car, drove home, and arrived within moments of Jane and Andy. They were still in the garage in fact, just getting out of the car. A nice day off.
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