Guided Connecticut Pike Fly Fishing

Steve Pogodzienski guides Northwestern Connecticut for northern pike and smallmouth. When fishing any new species, there is a learning curve. As ‘Pogo’ told me, there is no substitute for time on the water, but booking a guide can flatten that curve.

Pogo began fly fishing in 2009, a natural progression from chasing steelhead with conventional gear. He was intrigued by fly fishing and hired a guide to teach him on his home water, the Housatonic River. He learned tight-line nymphing and how to fish streamers for trout, eventually encountering smallmouth. He progressed to fishing northern pike and eventually to musky.

When he connected with his first pike on a fly rod, it was all over for Steve. He suddenly didn’t care for trout, even big ones. He watched a pike wake on a Dahlberg Diver from ten feet away, and landed the fish, shaking, instantly addicted.

Steve committed himself to pursuing predators and the journey that began in Connecticut has taken him through the North Woods and the Mid-South. Steve credits Bohen, who he fished with a number of times, as an influence. In the same way, I credit Steve with teaching me pike fishing.

When I arrived to be guided by Pogo for pike in Western Connecticut, I wanted two things: a shot at a pike and to learn from one of New England’s premier predator fishing guides. I had my shots, and I finally made one count. With a solid northern pike in the net, the quiet of the boat was replaced by whoops of elation.

I began fly fishing for northern pike by accident more than 10 years ago when I was targeting bass with deer-hair bugs in a slow, small tributary of a Connecticut lake. I was wading downstream and working a big deer-hair mouse in a soft arc, from the center of the river to the shoreline and back to me. As it swam, it left a wake on the surface, its rabbit-strip tail undulating and kicking.

That first pike appeared like an apparition behind the fly. Initially, I couldn’t believe it was a fish. It was suddenly there, a dark-green shape stalking, a ghostly vision. When I stripped the mouse, I could feel the hunger in the pike’s motions as it followed. I moved the fly, its tail danced, and the pike repositioned itself below it, patiently pursuing. But then, in one motion of its pectoral fins, I sensed it beginning to hurry. Though it hung back, there was a nearly imperceptible urgency in its motions as it coiled to strike. Finally, it exploded forward and took the fly. My bass tippet didn’t stand a chance. That fish didn’t stay hooked, but I did.

I quickly learned that fly fishing for pike is difficult, even for a good caster. Hauling heavy fly line and throwing pike flies takes good technique, persistence, and effort. Over my early pike pursuits, I built a list of attributes from back to front, showcasing effort and persistence if not technique. Every cast when I shot the line and hit my spot, I considered a success.

I asked Pogo about differentiating spots; i.e., how to tell an A spot from a B. I told him we had drifted past several downed trees and river bends that I thought looked fishy. Why hadn’t he dropped the anchor on those? He said, “Time on the water. There is no substitute for time on the water.” I made a mental note: Keep working.

Steve uses two boats: a Stealthcraft Power Drifter jet boat as his primary rig and a raft to access smaller waters. The jet boat makes his trips simple. It can skim up-current quickly, which puts Steve above his take-in point and he then drifts back for take-out. Pogo can read water temperature and see bottom composition using electronics; he knows his water intimately.

I have always prided myself in being able to figure out a species of fish, find where they live, and catch them. Much of this good fortune came from the goodwill and communication of fellow anglers. Pogo provided me an opportunity to cut my teeth on pike to prepare for a Wisconsin muskie trip.

Stephen ‘Pogo’ Pogodzienski | Guiding Western Connecticut for Northern Pike and Smallmouth Bass