One of my favorite parts of this lodge - finally got cool enough to justify generating some heat and listening to the crackle of a hardwood fire
As we had time to kill, we decided to drive around to different things in the area. On the way out of the trout club, we always pass a farm with lots of little goats. Ian loves how they hide in the forest to stay shaded during hot days, and come out into the grass on cooler/cloudier days.
And the apple cider mill ... freshly made cider donuts. SO GOOD.
Back at Lake Mansfield, heading out one afternoon on the Peter's trail for a hike
Came across this hidden salamander guy
Found some HUGE shelf mushrooms. We set them out on the bench with a note for kids who wanted to carve their designs in the white flesh and let them dry :)
I am going to keep this one to display in our apartment
So normally it's pretty well agreed that the fishing at Lake Mansfield can be more difficult than at Lake Mitchell. A combination of factors contribute to this: kids splashing around in the lake scare fish, it's July and pretty hot so they aren't feeding too much, and the fish are fed pellets by the caretakers so they may not be interested in artificial flies. I didn't have too much of an expectation to catch anything when Ian and I decided to venture out to the spit of land at the top of the lake during dinnertime. We brought only our Tenkara rods, even though normally we are western fly fishing in these still waters. As I tried different locations on both sides of the spit, I was getting a little frustrated since I felt like the fish were rising just out of my reach. I wasn't in a boat, so the furthest I could cast was limited by my 10 foot traditional braided line, three feet of tippet, and my 11 foot Iwana rod. I was presenting the fly delicately and my casts were good, but I saw those concentric circles signaling rising fish just out of reach. No bites despite moving up and down the spit and trying both sides - near the logs, by the shore, out into the middle of the stream feeding the lake. Nothing. Although it was a nice quiet place to be, and although I was happy with my casting and didn't have expectations to catch anything, it still would have been fun to catch something.
I then moved out to the very tip of the spit since I saw a small fish make a jump for a bug on the water. Lifting my tenkara rod back, I delivered a delicate fly to the middle of the ripple where the fish had come up to feed just seconds ago. Then I felt the tug! I flicked my wrist to set the hook, and felt the pull of the fish that was definitely on the line ... a few seconds later with Ian's help, I landed my first rainbow trout of the night! It was a smaller one, about 8 inches, but it was so exciting. With the rainbow swimming away and my simple fly free again, I cast to that same area. Bite! Landed another one! Over and over this happened all evening, and at one point Ian stopped fishing altogether to dedicate himself full-time to removing my flies from the beautiful small rainbow trout we were catching. 14 in total, plus 3 earlier in the day at the mill pond meant 17 in one day! At one point, a western fly fisherman came over to our area in a boat and cast in the general vicinity as well. He was able to catch a few, and once even remarked to us regarding his latest catch "looks like this guy has been caught before!". Although he would have definitely considered his evening fishing as "successful", it was still nowhere near the amount of fish we were landing left and right. I still can't believe it to this day. Later in the evening, we overheard him talking with other fly fisherman in the lodge by the fire - "it was every other cast that they were landing something!", to which somebody replied "they must have been fishing with [fish food] pellets, then!"
It was that evening that I really realized what makes Tenkara so cool. It's not a gimmick, nor is it a passing fad as a lot of western fly fisherman suggest. It's not just holding a weighted fly just below the water as if bait fishing, and it's not dapping. Tenkara is its own fishing with its own technique. I love the simplicity - just a rod, fixed line, and artificial fly on the end. I love how delicate I can drop a fly on the surface of the water, as if it were a bug that fell off of an overhanging tree branch - exactly as nature intended. I love the feel of the flexing of the longer, thinner rod, and being able to keep the line out of the water (western fly fishing line lays on top of the water). But most of all, I love the philosophy that it's not what gear you have, but how you use it. Tenkara, with its limitations, really encourages understanding of exactly that. No, I don't have 90 feet of line on a reel to float downstream - but I can just move myself to that same spot. And last time I checked, even with 90+ feet of line on the reel, 90% of fly fisherman never cast anywhere near that amount of line anyways. No, I don't have enough backing on the line to help me land a 10-pound fish - but I find equal joy in catching my 14 feisty rainbow trout. I don't have a reel to pull the fish in to where I am - but I can learn ways to use my fixed line length relative to the current to guide the fish to where I can land it. I don't need dozens of wet flies, nymphs, dry flies, and streamers. I just need one style of fly - the reverse hackle, simple Tenkara fly (sakasa kebari) no matter where I fish, what I'm fishing for:
Starting off with a hook and hackle. I later learned (from fishing with it) after making this first fly that Partridge feather is too soft and fluffy that it absorbs water and doesn't retain its shape. For my next flies, I switched to a more firm Grizzly hackle instead and it seems like it will do better.
My very first fly. I later learned that maybe my hackle could be a little further back towards the middle of the body, and adjusted my other flies accordingly.
There's something really beautiful in the idea that there are very real limitations of Tenkara. But understanding those limits and working with what you have is a very gratifying feeling. Just like my simple violin setup had me sitting in front of kids with $20,000 violins in All-State orchestra. Expensive equipment (or a lot of it) does not necessarily translate into knowing what to do with it. As a great violinist once said "A good violinist can make a cigar box sound good".
When I walk into fly shops or talk with other fisherman at the trout clubs about how I'm learning Tenkara, I often get remarks to some extent hinting at how they've seen other customers come in asking about it and it seems like the customers are really limited by it ("they had to climb over logs with our guide - really made it tough for them"). Or that "it's essentially nymphing"... not really. But I think these people see it as a "bypass" of all of the supposed "learning" that "has" to be done to be a "good" fly fisherman. What do you mean you don't have to know the life cycle of various bugs, when they hatch, what season different bugs are hatching, and what flies match with those hatches for use in specific rivers? After all, in Tenkara, there's only one style of fly used (sakasa kebari) and it's not changed from river to stream to pond. This, I could see, is a major blow to some peoples' egos. But what I think some of these people don't understand is that Tenkara is not a gimmick or fad. It was developed by commercial fisherman (not recreational) in the mountain streams of Japan to catch fish to sell. It was for their livelihood that they relied on Tenkara for hundreds of years. And its the effectiveness, irrespective of flies, types of line, and reel setups that continues its essential place in the life of those same fisherman. If it were not effective, there's no way it would have continued to be relied upon by commercial fisherman in Japan for so long.
Still, maybe I'll just go along and say "yeah it's terribly limiting. Yeah, it's annoying - I hope the fad passes" just so that I can keep this all a secret ;-). It's not really a secret - it seems like many more people are aware of it in the fishing world. All I know is that it is a beautiful way to tie myself back to my family's roots in the remote, rural, northern mountain streams of Iwate prefecture in Japan. And beautiful Vermont, every time I drive through those mountains, along those same style of mountain streams and small towns, brings me back to Japan - the homeland of this very style of fishing.
Don't get me wrong, it's really fun to learn Western style fly fishing as well. But I think I really want to focus 100% on Tenkara. There's so much to learn in terms of technique. My 14 rainbows that night was not a fluke - it was quite deliberate that I saw a rising fish and cast to that spot to land one. But that was only one setting in one set of conditions. What about sinking the kebari with the current in a fast-flowing, rocky mountain stream? Where exactly are the trout hiding in the river? How do I pulse the fly to make it seem alive? Slingshot casting technique? Side-cast technique?
Tenkara, with its very real, very apparent physical limits - maybe it's great that I can focus on learning these techniques instead of being overwhelmed by talk of gear.
A little bit later, after a week in Burlington as Ian started his new job, we made our way to the other trout club - Lake Mitchell Trout Club - for a relaxing weekend.
Typical Vermont rolling mountains
In South Royalton, we found this delicious wood-fired locavore burger place, sitting on rail tracks. It was delicious, and they had lots of fun local beers and ciders. In the park in the middle of South Royalton, we also came across a small food co-op where I found CUSTARD PIE!!! Nobody makes this anymore, but it's my favorite!
Late evening fishing at Lake Mitchell Trout Club - trying some Tenkara on the lake
Ian's beautiful catch using western style fly fishing and a nymph. 15 inches and 20oz
I previously learned from R. how to clean the fish - good surgery practice?
R's garden is growing so nicely
So much fresh food - lots of peas ready to eat
We enjoyed our trout cooked in foil on the grill with veggies from the garden (beets, herbs, zucchini, summer squash). Sometimes I forget how much I enjoy eating simple, fresh meals like this. I can't believe we caught a beautiful rainbow trout and get to eat it all in the same place.
And with all that, we are now back in Burlington. Our apartment will be ready for move-in tomorrow so it will be a busy day for me, but I can't wait to finally be settled at last. For the next four years I get to be in one place and dig into my studies, fly fish some more, and enjoy quiet Vermont life.
Upper Church St. at night
