Five feet out the bottom drops to twenty, at least. Out in the gut where the jet boats and gulls roam it’s one hundred. River-left at thirty-plus miles an hour, we stand and bomb two-handed casts into the current, watch the gale fill with flurries, exchange obscenities with guides drifting their sports in our laps.

Until 5,500 years ago this river lived a small existence. Long before glacial melt had its way and rammed the sonofabitch clear through to Lake Ontario. Long before the name Niagara was derived from Onguiaahra, the leaders of the Iroquois Nation. Long before Champlain inked its path on his maps.

The jet boats finally pack themselves into a knot downriver, following lake-run biomass on their fish-finders. The gulls are endless in their circling hunt for shallow bait. We swing sink tips and weighted flies in ice age current, begging for a fight, knowing full-well the river is hungrier than anything swimming.

Photo credit: Lucas Carroll


Filed under On the water, Poetry


  1. Nice piece buddy. Wish I was on a hungry river right about now…

  2. Ross aka the flytyinfreak

    pretty cool. Never knew how you guys fished that big river and know I have a glimpse into your fishin scene, Thanks Matt.

  3. Yeah, yeah! –> “Long before glacial melt had its way and rammed the sonofabitch clear through to Lake Ontario.” I really really like that sentence!

    • fishingpoet

      According to historical accounts, the final product came about after a geological event that happened over the course of a week. Sufficed to say that’s some serious ramming…

  4. Good God, Matt. You just keep doing it. Awesome.

  5. I hope you fellas hook into some of that lake-run biomass you’re hunting.

  6. Every time I read an entry over here I am reminded of my glaring inabilities as a writer. Damnit, why do I keep coming back…

    • fishingpoet

      Ha! I appreciate the fact you do come back, Kirk. We all know that your “Unaccomplished” moniker is only attached to “Angler.” Of course, we all know that’s not accurate either.

  7. Well said! Now if we could only get a “REAL” winter to stir things up….ha!

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