October 13, 2017 - Without a Doubt, Huh? – The Mighty Brodhead Creek

Fall in NEPA on my favorite creek, without a doubt a true beauty. 

There has been a Magic 8-ball in my powder room for 10 years, I bet, and it rarely gets handled, except by guests, perhaps, but for some reason I picked it up this morning and asked this dollar store oracle, “Is it worth it to drive to the Poconos this morning?”  I worked about a 12 hour day on Thursday, a day of meetings followed by an evening of teaching and then grading annotated bibliographies for research papers.  A lot of minutia there, even with my expert wife’s rubrics.  I definitely work a lot of hours some weeks, but they are my hours, for the most part.  I tell students not to judge me by the time stamp on my replies to their submissions and their emails and, in turn, I will not judge theirs (even the obvious all-nighters with the 3 AM time stamps).  I was tired this morning, and I had to take the boy to school early for band practice, but I also knew I was not going to spend another day grading, especially a cloudy day following a bit of rain.  I was about 75% sure that I was going to take a longer ride today, but I guess I needed a sign from the universe.  The 8-ball’s response was, “Without a doubt.”  

My second big wild brown of the week chewing a big bugger.

It eventually was, without a doubt, well worth it to drive 90 minutes and walk a couple miles on a 30 degree grade and waist deep in slippery boulders and leaf litter, as the photo to the left hopefully shows, but I had to withhold judgment for much of the morning.  I arrived at around 9:30 AM, and then took a 30 minute walk down an old railroad right of way.  It was only 54 degrees, and I was underdressed (I noticed people in fleece at the rest stop) so the walk was welcomed.  It stayed cloudy all day, and the water temp was a good 60 degrees, but very little bug life was active, and what was active was very small, size 18 or smaller caddis and midges.  I watched a pair of sunfish rise and saw maybe 3 random splashes all day.  Granted, in the area I chose to fish, I was not expecting numbers.  This is marginal water that holds some big fish.  Probably 25 years ago, I landed a legit 26 inch wild brown on the trusty Rapala CD3 in this same area.  It is strange to think that I have fished the same place for 30 years!  Had I caught that behemoth on the fly rod, I may have been retired from the sport for 25 years now...  I guess my trip earlier in the week made me greedy to set the hook on a fish that pulled back when I set or, better yet, felt like a soft, heavy snag until it started swimming.  One quality fish would make it all worthwhile.  I would keep plugging along and enjoy the day, knowing that the oracle did say without a doubt.

A good fall morning walk.

I was expecting fish to still be in the riffles, so I was rigged up to Czech nymph, but I only scored a bevy of warmwater species for the effort: I started with sunfish, then a couple 12 inch bass, followed by a fallfish and a chub or two.  I double-checked the water temperature at a deep hole, and it was still 60 degrees, so I resigned to fish a pair of midges under an indicator in case the trout had vacated the shallower riffles with the cooling off and shortening days.  I finally had a hit, and after at least two hours of catching everything else, I finally landed a trout—a hold-over rainbow that vacated stocked waters for better environs.  He was skinny, but otherwise he looked better for the move; even his anal fins had grown back and turned translucent.

Besides needing a meal, this bow looked nearly perfect in his adopted home.

Confident that I could at least catch rainbows now, even if I wanted wild browns, I stuck with the midge for another hour and managed to land one more bow and lost another one after a short battle.  Both fish I landed were 12 to 13 inches and in good shape, but I was certain that a brace of stockies with wanderlust was not my reason to fish the Brodhead today.  During a little break to check messages and emails, I had a brief talk with Tami, who offered to leave work early and pick up the boy at the bus stop if I wanted to fish longer.  I gladly took the offer, figuring I could relax, take a longer walk down the creek, and maybe even find some evening risers if I stayed long enough. 

Another pretty bow.

This guy, some bows, and a 30 dollar net could not be the reason for my trip, could it?

I stopped to rig up to Czech nymph again now that I was in pocket water and riffles.  Perhaps I was tired and my knots were bad, but the second cast ended up snagged to the point that I lost both flies and half my sighter line as well!  Maybe it just cut on a sharp edge or some other debris.  By this point, it was nearing 6 PM, and sunset comes quickly in a deep valley, so I decided to spend my last 45 minutes fishing a streamer.  The first one I grabbed was a big, size 4 olive beadhead bugger, so I cut my leader back to about 6 feet long and 2X.  On my first cast through this deep pocket behind two boulders, I quickly stripped, hoping for an aggressive take.  Nope.  

Not 19, but 18, yes...

The next time, I let the streamer swing all the way down to the tailout.  Nope.  One last trick.  On the next cast, I put the bugger right in the white water and highsticked it so it got deep quickly and, as it began to move downstream, it stopped dead.  I could not believe that I was attached to another big, wild brown trout this week, but I was, without a doubt.  She jumped once and then decided to bulldog around the small hole.  On 2X, I was able to use side pressure to keep her out of the snags and also keep her in her pool and not 20 yards down the stream in a field of boulders and logs.  I only had to let her take drag one time because, otherwise, I thought I could lose her, but I rather quickly had this lovely fish on a short line and into the net.  I am certainly not sure I deserved another 18 inch fish this week, but I would gladly take it after the long, mediocre day I had persevered.  After a couple pics in bad, low light conditions, and a reckoning in the measure net, I set the fish free and moved down to the next pocket.  As the bugger was swinging in the current it got popped, but I did not connect until I started slowly stripping it back.  A very decent smallmouth leaped at the end of my line.  Not another big trout, but fun anyway, especially on a 4 weight rod.  He was about 14 inches long and fat.  Could I get more?  The next cast, I also hooked another fish, and this one stayed down.  I was hoping for another trout, but it too was a bass, this one about 12 inches.  And then I got another as well.

Another low light shot...

It was getting darker, and I had a 20 minute walk back to the Subaru, so I ended on this high note, a hot and heavy 30 minutes with the streamer at "magic time" of the evening, and I started hoofing up the hill to some level ground.  It was dark for half the walk back because I always stay too long, especially when I have my wife’s blessing to do so, but it was also peaceful, alone with the evening songs of birds and the earthy smells of damp woods.  I will, without a doubt, be tired tomorrow too, but it will be a much better variety of tired.  Even though I have lived two hours from it for far more years than I lived near it, I still proudly call the mighty Brodhead my home waters for this reason.  Despite being in a steadily urbanizing region, it is still ruggedly beautiful, sometimes mysterious, oftentimes frustrating, a little treacherous at times for many reasons, too (tent cities, anyone?), but then it gives me a little something for the effort and beckons me back, usually without the additional affirmation of the Magic 8-Ball..