February 21, 2018 – Not Breaking Any Records, but a Good Day Anyway – Northampton County

A 14 inch fish, at best, who thought he was much bigger.

Some record air temperatures were no doubt recorded this afternoon.  The digital thermometer on the Subaru read 81 degrees as I was leaving a Northampton County limestoner this afternoon after a pretty decent three or four hours on the water.  The creek was cold from snow melt, but it’s hard not to warm up when faced with sunny and 75 once the snow is gone, so the water did warm up, and the fish eventually warmed to me for a good 90 minutes after a quiet start.  I probably left them biting, but I planned on a reasonable day, not an all-day affair, and I stuck to the plan for once.  I was most happy to catch 3 fish and drop another while Czech nymphing a pair big stoneflies in deep runs—well, the seams of deep runs if not smack dab in the current at this early point in the season.  I like to wintertime midge with an indicator in a deep hole as much as the next guy, but it is much more fun to get bounced on a tight line in sportier water, so that alone would have made today an exceptional outing.

I got to fish pockets and seams instead of slow pools!

I had no plan in mind but “north” when I left the house this morning.  I worked late last night and things are still busy at home, so I was a little tired, but I knew today was going to be too nice of a day to squander on Valley or a stocked creek closer to home.  On the way up, taking the scenic route, the Delaware River looked ominous, a deep grey color with an icing of fog over the top, so I eliminated the Brodhead from my dance card, assuming that a freestone creek would be just as cold, even today.  I almost stopped at a favorite spot near Easton, but I decided to head a little further up and try a creek I have not fished since October of last year.

Rubberlegged stonefly fooled them this afternoon.

With it being so pleasant, nay, downright summery out, I assumed that I would not be the only guy out, but I didn’t quite expect to see the number of anglers that I did.  There were trucks and cars in almost every legal pull-off.  Further complicating things was a work crew with a dump truck and a backhoe parked right where I wanted to be in order to access a favorite hole, one that has produced some big fish for me (and others) over the years.  I traveled a little farther upstream and found an unoccupied stretch, so I suited up and gave it a shot.  I was in shade from some nearby bluffs for a good hour, and there were signs of ice in a nearby tributary, so I was not surprised that things started out slowly.  I had one hit tight against a down tree limb and that was it for the first hour.  I really didn’t have the patience to midge the deep hole near this spot.  I suppose it just felt too spring-like to default to winter fishing tactics, so I took another drive to an couple other spots, but I could see anglers in those areas too.  Easton was looking like a better option, maybe, but after exploring a while I decided to see if the work crew had given up the spot I originally wanted.  Luckily, not only were they gone, but no one else was there either.  Before I left the previous stretch of water, I did see some dark stoneflies dancing around, not a lot of them, but a handful, so that prompted me to go in a different direction as I arrived here..

These guys need to eat some real stoneflies to fatten up.

I rigged up one of Sam’s big tungsten rubberlegged stoneflies in gold and added a dropper with another lighter one in brown.  I put the indicator away and decided to fish slower seams adjacent to the places where fish would be feeding later in the spring on my way to a favorite deep run downstream from the pull-off.  My first fish fought like twice his size.  Maybe I have been spending too much time with stockies or maybe this fish was just a tough guy because based on the way he acted after hooked I thought he was a big one.  When I slipped the net under him he was probably 13, maybe 14 inches, and certainly not fat at this point in the season, but I was still delighted to land a fun fish on a tight line in pocket water.  Things were looking up.

First world problems?  Disappointed for a minute over an 18 inch rainbow in this kind of shape?

Still making my way to the spot, so to speak, I hooked another fish in a quieter seam of a bankside run, but I lost him after a quick battle.  Still, I had been bounced on a tight line twice now, and I hadn’t even gotten to the spot.  Well, when I did get to my intended destination dry and in one piece, I definitely noticed the increased flow of the water.  I knew the creek was a bit high based on the other area I fished earlier, but here it was much more evident that stained, though not dirty, water was pushing through.  Under few circumstances would I be disappointed to land a fat, healthy 18 inch rainbow, but when I set the hook on my third hit, especially in this particular location within the run, I had flashbacks of a couple 18 and 20 inch wild browns that I have tussled with in the same run in the not too distant past.  There are worse problems to have, I know!  This was a pristine rainbow, angry and colored up beautifully, a mile or more from any stocking trucks, but I think the first wild brown (and a second I landed later) actually fought harder!

This one looks fatter at this angle.

Trying to get deep in an eddy, I lost a set of flies in a new piece of structure deposited over the winter.  After re-rigging, I decided to try a deep pocket further down the run, and I managed to hook and land another wild brown, this one much paler, and skinny like the first, but also tough as can be.  For a 13 inch fish, he accounted well for himself, even taking a short streak of drag once.  My long Tuesday must have been catching up to me because after releasing the fish and resetting, I snagged an overhanging tree branch, the same one, twice before deciding to go get my flies on the third snag that would not come loose.  There is a reason I would risk my flies two, three times to get them into a particular spot, this particular spot, and, of course, I spooked an 18 to 19 inch brown out of a hollow log on my way up the bank to grab the tree and retrieve my flies!  Of course, I did!  I had actually seen a fish flash at my flies a few casts before the third snag; I think it turned as the flies were beginning to rise on the swing and showed me some mouth and a shot of his broadside.  Now the big rainbow really was feeling like a consolation prize.  When, despite my best efforts, I did not get my flies back either—it was too deep to get any closer—I decided to call it quits and avoid traffic.  The old me may have stayed there until dark, without calling Tami to let her know how long I’d be, and so on, but the new me is trying to enjoy myself more and make my life easier and more enjoyable.  I guess having the ability to fish 100+ days per year now helps me relax a little when it comes to fishing?

Good flows and good color.  I probably left them biting, but it was still a good day to be out.

Instead of rigging again, I just cranked the line and leader into my reel, took a deep breath and a long drink of water, and called it a good day.  I had to work hard to find open spots, and the water was pretty cold earlier in the day, but I was able to tangle with 3 or 4 quality fish on a sunny, breezy summer day in February.  No records broken, but a solid trip worth the extra driving and effort, methinks.  I work Friday in the city, a few meetings, but rain is supposed to arrive tonight into tomorrow, quite a bit of it, so maybe the streamer will get a turn on Valley after lunch and errands with my wife?

I decided in the end to show an exceptional fish some artistic love, anyway.