Projects & Eventscalendar of events Chapter MeetingsChapter meetings are schedueld for the third Wednesday of each month. They are held inside the Brighton Town Hall located at 2300 Elmwood Ave. Look for us downstairs or in the Community Meeting Room. As always, meetings are open to the public. A fly tying demo is held at 7:30 p.m., and at 8:00 p.m. meetings will begin. |
Activities - Past & PresentGrand River Trip Report - by Andy cooperIt all began the Thursday morning of June 11th at 9:30 , Wrong Way Cooper and Misguided Joe (Verdone) led a merry band of adventurers to the Grand River. Terry Brooks, Vince Maxwell, Joe Verdone, Zahir Valimahomed and I met at the Leroy thruway exit; I'm sure that the car chase that ensued will reach legendary proportions within the annals of club history. To make a long story short, we turned a 3 1⁄2 hour trip into a 5 1⁄2 hour trip, at speeds of up to 75 mph and an illegal run through an EasyPass thruway gate; we looked more like the Gum Ball Rally, than a bunch of trout bums. Then we were joined at the boarder by I'm-from-Brooklyn-and-I drive-like-it Scott Seidman. Why they let us into Canada, I can only guess!  After a brief stop at Trout Fitters (the local Orvis Shop) to pick up licenses and provisions (flies) we headed for the campgrounds. Elora Gorge Conservation Area is a great little camping area just outside of Fergus. It boasts 300+ campsites and lots of river access in a majestic wilderness setting. We pitched camp and headed for the river. The night turned cold very quickly, ending any chance of a hatch or spinner fall. Scott did quite well, though, and managed to dredge up a few fish on dry flies. The rest of us returned to camp cold and bedraggled, but not beaten. After a night of heavy rain and a snoring concerto led by Terry Brooks, we headed back to the river. Scott and I went with guides and left the rest to fend for themselves. The day was a beauty, bright sunshine and mild temperature; if it weren't for the wind it would have been perfect. I was lucky enough to spend the day with Ian Martin, author of Fly Fishing the Grand River. Ian is a real gentleman and very polite; after about a half-hour he said, "Mind a few hints?". "That's what I'm here for" I said. "Will you please stop roll casting, you have plenty of room to back cast, and don't move the strike indicator around when you mend your line." "OK". Shortly after that, I landed the biggest brown trout that I've ever caught in a stream, 21", 4 1⁄2 pounds. The tail broke the surface and my heart stopped. "That's the biggest brown I've ever caught," I said. "It's a Carp, eh…" Ian said. Did I mention that Ian has a very cruel sense of humor? After a good day of fishing, Scott, Neil (Scott's guide), Ian and I stopped for a few beers at the local bar. The rain was pouring straight down at this point, and then it started to hail. I felt bad for the guy's back at the campsite, but not bad enough to join them. When we finally reached the campgrounds at 10 p.m., there was a wet bedraggled group of campers. We had been joined by Fran Smith, Katie Peats and Fred Vojt. Shortly after we arrived, we all hit the sack. Fran added a horn section to the snoring troubadours (I'll let you figure out what that means). I awoke the next morning to the regular clatter of the campgrounds. Fred and Terry had already been down to the river and seen a Drake hatch and Andy and Vince had left with a guide. The plan was to have breakfast and fish the gorge section of the grand. The river was a 50yrd hike from the tents and we all arrived there intact, probably the only time that weekend that we didn't get lost. The day was beautiful, but the hatches never appeared. Fishing nymphs produced a few trout and a lot of chubs. We all returned to camp for lunch and planned the afternoon. Between lunch and our afternoon fishing, Fran, Katie, Fred and I took a road trip to scout out potential new spots for the afternoon excursion. The conversation went from the river, to hatches, to the new lesbian fad in America. If this all sounds a little confusing, it was! That night, after the spaghetti diner, we all fished the low-bridge section below the gorge. We were waiting for the Grey fox spinners to fall, they never did. This section was particularly picturesque but yielded no fish, Fran managed to sting a very large brown and he remained in the same spot till night fall, hoping to get a second chance, which he never got, unfortunately.  That in a nutshell was the trip. We drank a few beers, told fish stories and thoroughly enjoyed the fantastic countryside of Canada. As a whole the trip was a success, sure it would have been nice to catch a few more fish, but the point is that we all saw the potential of the river. Some times victory is sweeter if you have to work for it. I'll be returning to the Grand, soon I hope! Cheers - Andy Cooper |