November 17, 2024 – The Title for This First One Always Seems to Write Itself – Monmouth County, NJ

NW winds but no fish for me...

I rigged up this week and loaded up on Saturday night to make my first surf excursion of the fall, not counting a few casts in October.  I am not superstitious, but it should be a good season since this one started the way all the good ones do: with a skunk.  If you don’t fish the surf much, seeing all the social media posts about blitzes can make it appear like this is an easy fishery.  The simplest way I can break it down is with math.  There is about 50 miles of what I consider prime surf zone in New Jersey, roughly Sandy Hook down to LBI (some might argue Brigantine, but I would not!).  That’s a lot of real estate to cover.  I covered about 8 miles of that 50 and saw zero fish caught, although I heard of success at first light for those lucky enough to find some sandeels dug in.  Me, I got a little spiny dogfish at first light.  I found those eels 6 miles from where I started, a couple hours too late for it to matter—though at least I have a starting spot next time I make the long drive.  Jeff bailed at 4 AM after I was already on the road to meet him.  He was feeling sick.  For him to miss fishing, it had to be bad.  I was texting with young Pete most of the morning, and we actually met up at spot three.  We doubled our effectiveness by not fishing the same spots and just sharing intel.  So together we covered even more (mostly) barren surf!  I should have followed Pete to spot four, however.  He got some intel that something was happening south of us, but it was already 8 AM, and I’d been casting since 5:30 AM, so I declined to follow.  I was not willing to drive 40 minutes to miss a blitz.  Pete, well, he found a great surf bass late in the morning.  He even took PTO on Monday and got another.  Man, I miss the flexibility of my old job sometimes! 

October 19 and 29, 2024 – A Short Surf Attempt and a 6-Hour Drive for 6 Hours of Fishing but Well Worth It – Monmouth County and Central PA

An early start in the mountains of Central Pennsylvania.

This no rain thing is depressing.  At least the bass are starting to migrate into Jersey and will hit the beaches consistently when the winds and water temps get right.  For the time being, looking for a quick getaway on a weekend morning has been nearly impossible.  I did make a few casts on the evening of October 19^th when I was in Asbury Park for a weekend of drinking and socializing, but kids were swimming earlier that afternoon, so my confidence was not high even though the surf looked very sexy.  The following weekend found me looking at gauges and nixing plan after plan, deciding instead to wait until this week to play hooky and fish a destination crick without the crowds.  This destination crick had been holding its flows better than most, but it was still very low.  Still, Penns Crick is almost always a memorable and productive trip, so I made the 3-hour drive in the dark to arrive before sunrise to 35-degree air temperatures but eventually cooperative wild trouts.  Despite my once-common practice for which this blog got its original title, for the first time in quite a long time, I used a true sick day to fish, and I regret nothing.  Remember the math is only bad if the fishing is bad.  Three hours there to fish six to drive three home?  Yep, and I caught over 15 wild trout in so-called “technical” but lovely conditions. 

I gave it a shot at least.

Technical is guide speak for low and clear, basically.  For me that just means small tippet, small bugs, stealthy wading in pocket water, and very careful casts in what deep holes I can find.  It also means fishing early for the advantage of low light.  In the mountains of Central PA, depending on where you fish, that low light could last until 11 AM this time of year, and I was fortunate to find a really good stretch of pocket water right as the warmup and the last of the shade converged with a sparse hatch of small caddis and midges.  I caught maybe 5 small fish, including a double (so 6), on small bugs under a small bobber before the magic two-hour window.  It was cold to start, a few clicks above freezing, so the slow start was not unexpected.  During that perfect two-hour window, however, I landed a couple good fish in pocket water, a handful of 12-13 inchers, and more smalls.  I even found one of the rainbows that the locals put in and had my second double of the year too.  I eventually settled on a single olive perdigon and fished upstream.  Most of the better fish ate when I was well below them fishing a long 5X leader—another “technical” approach I use. 

A good fish in "technical" conditions.

A couple of the females looked misshapen and hollow enough to have been post-spawn, but I saw no evidence of redds.  I recall Sam, who knows this spot well and even gave me some boots on the ground intel the evening before, saying that he believes most of the fish here use the tributaries because they have better gravel substrate in them.  Sam was guiding (again) today, so we have yet to find time to fish together this year!  I can confirm that even in the low water, I noted nothing that looked like good spawning habitat.  When I fished around one nice island and expected to see redds, there was nothing but large rubble fanning out behind.  There were some fish in all the deeper riffles and pockets in the riffles, one pushing over mid-teens and a few over 12 inches.  That handful alone made it worth the long ride.

More fishes.  Post spawn hen below?  Doub life.

When I reached the end of the island, it was close to noon, so I decided to walk back to the lot and take a break.  My day had started before 2 AM when I got up to piss an hour before the 3 AM alarm, so I was running on caffeine and freedom.  On the walk back I did watch a couple pods of average fish dimpling for olives or midges, so I debated walking back up after the break and fishing the same stretch again in warmer (but far brighter and breezier) conditions.  Instead, I decided to test my memory and navigation skills to find another unposted stretch of water where I have had some memorable visits with Sam.  Access to this stretch is in flux with some purple paint upstream and what appears, judging from all the trampled grass and riparian plants, to be a thriving Airbnb downstream, but I found the riffle and bend pool.  Water was low and clear, so after nymphing the head and some pockets without a touch, I even fished with a New Zealand indicator for 30 minutes in the deeper water near the tailout.  Not a touch.  I spooked one fish out from under a rock as I made a crossing to fish the opposite bank—a novelty crossing since it would have been impossible on most days.  I was hoping that I might scare one up in a deeper run along that far bank and away from the pressure, but that productive morning window had likely closed for a few hours.

Even lower at the second spot I managed to relocate.

With the breeze kicking up and some increased clouds, I was hoping for some bug life to save the second shift, but I resisted heading back to the first spot.  It would have been a lot of effort if the fish down there were acting the same way as their cousins upstream.  I accepted that the productive window had closed and decided to get a jump on any Harrisburg rush hour traffic.  The boys, especially Sandy Dunkin, are chomping at the bit for some surf fishing.  Pete already had success with the snag and drop fleet in North Jersey, so if I head out this weekend it may be in search of striped bass from the sand.  I would rather be here in these mountains, however!  The drive up took me over the depressingly low Juniata and Susquehanna rivers, but the drive home had me winding through the heights of the Bald Eagle State Forest.  I have done this drive while snow was falling on the peaks in January.  Today’s drive was equally enjoyable with the remaining fall colors, and probably a lot safer.

Bonus shots.  Another angle of the best fish of the morning.

October 14, 2024 – We Found a Handful During a Rough Fall Transition Day – NEPA

One dude, two hats + hmm... leafy.

The Silver Fox has off this week, and I only had Monday free, so we made the most of an iffy weather day in NEPA today.  With nary a raindrop in sight for what feels like ages, I slept in both Saturday and Sunday mornings this weekend.  I was tracking better flows in central PA, but I didn’t have it in me to make the long drive, I guess, especially not twice in two or three days.  Instead, I took care of some things around the house and saved my energy for Monday with Tom.  I was encouraged when I saw a dam release on the Lehigh River this weekend and thought we might have a shot at some eager fish closer to home as a potential alternative.  Besides a half a dozen fallfish, “some” fish disappointingly meant a total of five average browns for me, and a goose egg for Tom.  It was warm and humid at first light with the weather carrying over from the weekend, but we fished through the arrival of the cold front.  That change came with falling temperatures, winds, a barometric change, and the best part of fall fishing in the wind, the leaf hatch.  For what it was worth, there was plenty of actual bug life, including caddis in two sizes, and even a smattering of olives—who sometimes like to choose nasty days to hatch.  None of these bugs seemed to interest the trouts all that much.  Slow and low, including two of my five fish coming on a big bug dredged under a bobber and 8 feet of 4X tippet, was the name of the game.  Not awesome, but it was a good social trip with Tom and, like our summer trip that was equally middling, an excuse for me to have a planned day out of the office.

Pretty fall-ish and blustery by late morning.

I avoided the first cast curse by logging a first cast snag.  I lost it all, including the aforementioned 8 feet of 4X fluorocarbon, due to a terribly tied knot at the tippet ring.  I caught a good 13 inch fish after rerigging, so technically my second cast of the morning.  And I actually got back all the tippet and two bugs a few minutes later when I snagged my own long-ass tippet and freed all of it.  Had I one of those handy rigging spools, I could have just wrapped the whole jawn up and been ready with a super-quick rerig following the inevitable future snag.  Instead, I clipped off the bugs and saved the tippet for some dropper tags later in the morning.  I mentioned the two bobber fish, well the others took a perdigon or a jigged bugger deep and near the bottom on a tight line.  Despite the presence of caddis, nothing took the dropper tag like they did on my last visit.  Speaking of which, I usually don’t like to double down on the same watershed, let alone nearly the same spot, but this drought is playing havoc with my fishing plans.  Before seeing the detailed Monday forecast, Tom and I were slated to drive out to Central PA, but with this front I figured our time would be better spent fishing the early morning window before the major weather change—a change that was happening west to east too, mind you.  Besides a couple trout, I did catch a solid fall fish bite before the weather changed, so there was that part of the plan that worked out, I suppose....

I caught some wild trouts (and likely one holdover top left).

Tom is not accustomed to fishing big water like this, so I let him figure it out for a while before sharing that he was probably two feet short on tippet length and way light on tungsten for a day where the fish were just hugging bottom.  He had some hits that probably surprised him (a couple of mine did to be honest) after long lulls in the action.  None of the trout were dinks that I did land, but none of them were likely much over 12 inches either, and the first fish may have even been a long time holdover, not even a wild boy.  I made some bug changes when the leaf hatch began in earnest, going for the big old isonychia or stonefly approach in the underwater leaf storm over leaving (get it) it up to the trouts to pick out an 18 or 20 caddis pupa down there.  The water was a bit stained from the release, even though the flows were still very wadable and had dropped back to normal by the time we arrived.

Bonus shot.  Some fall colors.

We quit the first spot before 10 AM to hike by the ‘Ru on the way to a second spot.  To give you an idea of how not nice it was, we were still the only vehicle in a usually quite busy lot.  By noon when we returned, it was bumping like usual, but I have never seen the lot empty on a late morning in the early fall.  I refused to believe we could not catch a trout at the second spot.  I even sat out and coached Tom for some time before giving it a shot myself.  I eventually dredged up a couple fallfish in a row on a size 8 jigged pheasant tail, a single heavy bug made heavier with even more weight added and one that may have said iso nymph to the residents because I finally caught my fifth and final trout with this cumbersome rig.  We could not get Tom on one even with the same bug and the same weight.  Instead, he lost it all in some random encounter with the elements.  On that note, we were done.  I am going to see the mitch again on Friday when we join a crew of aging hipsters for a drinking and eating weekend in Asbury Park.  I will bring a rod, especially with this cool week ahead, hoping to blind squirrel one of those cows that are the first to begin migrating south.  I will take a bluefish or two on a pencil popper, of course.

October 6, 2024 – Avoided the First Cast Curse with a Pair of Good Fish and a Good Many More – NEPA

Sexy piggy/stud in training.

When I landed a solid high-teens wild fish on my first cast this morning, I was worried about the first cast curse.  And even if fishing remained good, there is always the concern about how do you top this/where do you go from here?  I have come to appreciate a good fish early for what it is.  In some ways, it takes the pressure off for the rest of the day and makes me relax and smell the roses a tad more.  My morning began with a foggy porcupine close encounter at 6:30 AM.  I arrived in the Lehigh River gorge before sunrise because I had a bit of a walk ahead of me and wanted to arrive at my first spot at prime time.  Besides the porcupine, I also got a talking to from an osprey with a fish in his claws, and I even had an eagle sighting, all before my noon quitting time.  Besides the first nice fish, I plucked another a bit larger right out of a bouncy pocket a couple hours later in the morning.  I had to keep the rod low and nudge him across the deep whitewater to avoid a downstream chase.  I landed at least a dozen browns, and all appeared to be wild—only one might have been a multiyear holdover, but I am thinking a spotty wild one now that I see the pics more closely.

A couple full sized photos.  Not selfish worthy, but damn nice wild trouts.

I also had a fish on my second cast, this one an average wild fish, but I am not aware of a second cast curse, so I just kept catching after that.  I would say that before 9 AM, so barely 120 minutes of fishing, my morning had been made.  I picked away at average 9 to 12 inchers just on the edges of the current.  Flows were low but not so low.  I think the gauge below the dam was 178 CFS, but I had picked up a few tributaries between there and the next gauge.  Water temperatures were great; not that I took out my thermometer with it being 44 degrees when I was suiting up at the ‘Ru at first light.  I know the water coming from the dam is under 65 degrees now, so game on again.  Some rain and/or a release would be nice, but I am accustomed to low fall flows and embrace the big stream exploration that low water affords.  Would I like a change of pace to chase fish on a small stream again?  Sure thing, but I have had some great outings on big creeks, and even the Big D, this fall because of the low water.

A beautiful foggy start, but began to brighten by 10 AM.

I worked what I could with my 10’6” 4 weight and a size 12 perdigon with a 4mm bead.  Most fish took that fly, but I did have a good number take a size 16 CDC pink tag blowtorch, which did a good job of acting like the small caddis emergers.  The best fish of the morning, that second little piggy of the day, took this little fly in big water, so they know what they want when they see it.  Nothing on the swing, but like last week on the Brodhead, half the fish took a small bug 24 inches up on the dropper tag.  When I had fished all the closer edges and targets I could reach with a good wade and the long rod, I worked the other side of the river with a bobber for a while.  That was not as effective, but I did catch enough additional fish to make the second pass worth it, including another 12-incher.  The chill was out of the air and the sun had finally burned off the fog by about 10 or 10:30 AM.  A little breeze had picked up, but it felt good now that the warm sun was out.  It felt 10 degrees cooler in the shade!

More fish along the way, and bonus shots of the best two.

Now that it had brightened, I was able to spot the eagle in a clear blue sky and was able to enjoy some of the fall colors.  On the way home, I ran into traffic due to a leaf peeping festival in Jim Thorpe, but I didn’t want to tell folks it looked a bit early for peak colors.  The breeze did start a bit of leaf hatch, especially at my second stop of the morning.  After a rest in the lot with some more water and a snack, I spent the last hour at another deep run adjacent to a tributary.  The warmth and sun had brought out the outdoor enthusiasts, though no other fishermen, so I had a cheering section way up in the 700 level/rail trail when I landed my first couple small browns at the second stop.  I only landed two more after that, so I decided not to go looking for more.  I made a couple bug changes to see if I could spark something new or get another bigger fish to eat, but it was becoming clear it was over.  I thought about waiting out the caddis for a couple hours or getting a real lunch while waiting for a real caddis hatch to develop, but the river had been good to me already.  I opted instead to get on the road home by noon and arrived before 2 PM even with all the activity in the river towns.

Signs of mid-autumn.  The possible holdover top left.

September 29, 2024 – A Coyote Sighting Portends a Solid Dinkfest? – NEPA

Pretty early.

The rain has done nothing of note.  It’s been three or four days (and counting) of mist for all of a quarter of an inch of precipitation.  Still, the clouds offered the potential for some decent fishing and probably contributed to a coyote feeling safe enough to venture down for a drink well after sunrise.  Different Native American tribes ascribe different meanings to coyote sightings, and I choose not to google what tribes frequented Monroe County and how they felt about coyotes.  For me, it meant a strong showing of small to average wild browns and nary a rainbow.  It’s been a tough summer with heat and low water, so I was not all that surprised to find the better browns absent—they typically know where to go to ride out the tough months.  No surprise the less experienced rainbows have probably gone belly up.  Fallguys and bass could be seen everywhere in the low water as well.  In other words, it was a bit early for a potential fall bonanza to begin.  But in looking over the blog for the last several years, I see I am always drawn back to the mighty Brodhead—mighty or not—each September.  It did not disappoint this morning, really.  I packed up to fish a small creek last night, hopeful for some actual rain, and then retooled in the morning since the bigger creeks seemed like the only viable options.  Making this early morning change of plans, I probably caught over a dozen wild browns, half a dozen fallfish, and dropped a couple fish later in the morning when they were spookier and hitting faintly. And I had my first daytime coyote sighting.  He came down to the edge of the water not 20 yards away, took a drink, saw me, and hightailed it out of the gorge with barely a sniff of the air.  He vocalized high up on the ridge 10-15 minutes later, likely in response to some hikers or mountain bikers with a dog across the way.

A lot of fish but nothing too large.

I had a decent fish on the second cast of the morning, and about 8 fish followed in short succession.  Flows were around 100 CFS in a stretch of the river where that is really, really low, but I still needed a size 12 perdigon with a 4 mm tungsten bead to get a size 16 CDC soft hackle in the strike zone.  I would say that before 10 AM, 99% of the fish took the dropper tag riding a good 24 inches above the point fly.  Later, as the drizzle ended and it brightened, I had a few take the perdigon as well as a small jigged bugger.  I lost the trout half of a double on the jigged bugger not long after my coyote sighting.  I thought I finally had a decent fish on the line, especially since I was near the sometimes-home of a couple pig wild browns, including one pushing 24 inches, but it was a skinny 13 incher who swam one way with my bugger while a 12-inch fallguy swam the other with my soft hackle.  I landed the fallfish, of course.  Getting away from the deep riffles and bouncy water meant fish spookings and fallfish, so I worked through the same riffle twice and landed fish both times before taking a longer walk to a similar stretch upstream.  I did not venture further into the gorge, seeing little evidence in the fish behavior or conditions to indicate that today was worth the effort.  Save it for later in October, I thought to myself as I refueled at the ‘Ru and walked to the next spot.

Low water and in the low 60s.  Need rain and cooler temps.

After the first hour, all the fish were a bit pecky.  Sometimes low pressure does that to fish in my experience.  If the water is up and stained, that oft-times trumps any of the effects, but if it’s just foggy and calm and thick, the fish do act a bit like wet sponges.  I lost a couple on the bobber that just barely took the bugs suspended underneath.  I lost two back-to-back in the second deep run before catching a couple and then blowing up the hole with all the activity.  Since this hole is probably six feet deep (and crystal clear today), I even tried to balance a leech over their heads for a while.  Not a touch.  I should have led with that approach if I had wanted to give it a fair shot for success.  It was cool and not that drizzly around midday, so I overstayed my welcome, knowing full well that the bite was probably over an hour earlier.  It is nice to get a full six hours on the water, however.  That is not something that can be done during the summer grind.  With the heat last Sunday, I drove two hours to fish four hours, to drive two more hours.  Not great math, unless I tangle with a couple of pigs like last week.  Today I drove 90 minutes to fish 6 hours: far better math even if I caught most of the 15 fish before 11 AM and spent the rest of the time hoping for an eleventh hour, coyote sighting induced miracle.

At least there were a lot of them.

September 22, 2024 - Low Water but Cool Water Temps Make the First Day of Fall a Success – NEPA

An elder stateman.

I tangled with two pigs this morning and landed one of them, so I can still make the playoffs, I gather.  The water was low, but this creek was doing better than most, so I made the drive and had the right level of expectations.  I just wanted to trout fish and possibly move a fish or two fattening up for the spawn.  When I hooked a fish as big or bigger than the one pictured above at the first hole, expectations were exceeded.  The first pig took a jigged bugger on the drop—I just saw the flash of head when he took it.  I had a sense I was going to lose this one all along because the hookset was not my best with some slack in the line to allow the streamer to fall to the bottom.  It was a decent hookset, however.  I fought him for a good while, but I think I pussyfooted around more than normal with the sneaking suspicion that this could end at any time.  Self-fulfilling prophecy because the streamer did eventually pull free on one of his/her longer runs.  It was still before sunrise, and this fish never jumped, but it was big.  Every time it lunged or ran, I could feel the power.  And those tell-tale head shakes.  I was throwing the 10’6” 4 weight and 3X to start my morning, so I definitely had the balls to take it took him/her, but I got cautious or just really wanted some content to share with you all.  That would come later, and I did not lose the mental game even though I lost this first battle.

Another early fish.

I will get to the fishing, but I guess I brought up a moment of growth as a fisherman just now.  I know guys who would be destroyed by losing a big fish—I have even written about throwing up after losing a big brown.  In my defense, that fish was 25 inches in a small creek and was nearly in my net when he popped off!  Anyway, this morning I just allowed the adrenaline dry heaves to pass, took some deep breaths, gave myself some positive affirmations, and moved onto the next hole.  This one was done for now with the mess the unknown pig and I had created.  I caught a dink or two at the next hole and then a nice fish over 15 inches, all the while still confident that another pig would show.  It did not hurt that this 15-incher first revealed himself trying to take a YOY off my hands for me.  I knew he was in there and hungry.  I also saw the pig I did land show himself while getting interested in my ability to catch dinkers on the nymphs.  This is not an uncommon occurrence for me in this creek, which is not always that fertile.  The YOY themselves are sometimes the hatch. 

Pretty low but just enough to make it worthwhile.  Fall has arrived.

That said, I did see a small smarm of olives and a few adult caddis as the day warmed up, so I abandoned the bugger pretty early.   Water was low, not unfishable and low, but just on the cusp of leaving it alone.   I hit the holes early when I could, but the rest of the morning was concentrated on the shallow riffles and small bugs.  Once I changed bugs enough to see that a single size 18 walts was the one they wanted, I had a blast in the skinny whitecaps.  Before my break at the ‘Ru at 10 AM to refuel and pick up the 3 weight to nymph in this manner, I did have success in those deep holes.  The pig I landed was an old fish, all head and skinny body.  He needed a rest after a reasonably short battle, so I hope he’ll be around to share his genes this fall.  I stuck with him for a good 5 minutes while I harassed Eric with some texts, and when I went to retrieve my rod from the bank eventually, he took off with good speed.  I caught a couple more trouts before and after this fish, but he was the highlight of round one.

More piggy shots.  And the one he went after to give away his position ;)

After losing some clothes, getting a snack, a cold drink, and picking up the other rod, I worked through some riffles and pocket water for round two.  Water was low despite good water temperatures.  All the channels around the islands, for example, were nearly bone dry or frog water.  I just couldn't justify spending more time in the car than on the stream today, even if I had made my day in just three hours of fishing.  I expected dinks in very shallow water for round two, but I should have been ready for more, of course.  I turned a very decent fish on a size 20 baetis nymph in the first deep depression in the riffles that I targeted.  The little hook did not hold, and so began several bug changes and weight changes to get it right.  Once I settled on an 18 walts on the point and a 16 soft hackle on the dropper tag, I had a nice run of fish.  Nothing like the first one I turned, but I did catch what the Silver Fox likes to call real-sized fish—10 to 13 inchers, many of them acrobatic.  These fish were quick hitters in tiny little spots in the riffles, which is a type of fishing I love and excel at—and probably love because I excel at it!  It was getting warm, and I knew I would be quitting at noon today, but these 6 or 8 bonus round fish further made my day.

Some round 2 fish from the skinny stuff.

Even minus an extra layer of clothes, I was starting to swamp my waders around 11:30 AM.  It was approaching borderline wet wading weather.  The sun was so high that shaded banks were at a premium by noon, and that had also become a pattern for the last 30 minutes or so.  In other words, I knew the clock was ticking on this particular outing.  Honestly, I was just thankful for not one but two rounds of very good fishing, especially since the flows were low and the water crystal clear.  It is good to fish a crick in as many seasons and conditions as possible.  I don’t make many fall trips to this one, and I probably won’t make a habit of it either.  I like to rotate them, especially when they are good to me.  I don’t know if that is responsible or superstitious or just my need for variety.  I like to say this creek never disappoints, and I have had to amend that to rarely disappoints this year, but this morning surely helped tip the scales back towards never.  Imagine if I had landed the first pig!  Nope, can’t think about that….

One of the better ones from the second round.

September 15, 2024 – Some More Smallmouths Until We Get More Rain and Consistently Cooler Temperatures – Delaware River

Some early evidence the leech might just work.

I know there are a lot of species out there to chase, but I guess I am mostly a wild trout guy at heart these days.  After the good outing last weekend, I was really wanting to chase some trout this weekend, but I just could not see the point when better days are surely ahead.  I do have two other favorite fish, of course, and you may have even seen them featured here on this blog.  One is definitely the striped bass in the surf, but I have also had a long love affair with the smallmouth bass.  Since I’ve been a kid, I have enjoyed chasing the smalljaw, especially in rivers.  I have fond memories of floating the Delaware with my old man in a Grumman squareback canoe.  I don’t remember the bass back then being as porky as they are now, so some things do change for the better over time, even if it’s just my skills.  That said, I have even seen evidence that a couple other local rivers that were once in decline have bounced back.  There are a lot more striped bass in the river too, but that is another story for another time.  Putting the trout on hold for now, I rigged up the 7-weight last night and decided to head upriver.

Deer didn't make it; some bonus fish pics.

Today, I decided to continue my “research” project with the bobber and the balanced leech.  One evening when I was on the Juniata this summer for the Josh Jamboree, I had a great evening drifting the level-sinking leech over the tops of weedbeds.  I was wondering if I could make this same system work in more rocky environments with more gradient.  I have a favorite little stretch of the Delaware that would be treacherous to wade fish in anything but late summer low flows.  The boy and I fished it this summer with spinning gear, with limited success, but we caught a few, and I actually saw many more spooky bass than we caught.  Today, I got out there early and was assisted by a fog that persisted into the 9 AM hour.  I tried an olive leech, but once I switched to a purple/blurple one, which probably does a good job of imitating a dobsonfly nymph/hellgrammite, it was game on.  I caught three nice bass, a few average ones, and even a couple fallfish before I decided to call it good.

Another nicer fish on the leech

The sun was hot and right in my face once the haze burned off, and the walk down into this spot is pretty aerobic, so I was happy to end things and hike back around 10:30 AM to avoid the 80-degree heat that was coming.  I was wet wading, and the morning was pretty darn comfortable, with low humidity and a slight breeze once the sun got up, but it was actually cooler at home because of the East wind and the clouds those conditons typically bring to Philly and the nearer suburbs.  Had it stayed that cool and cloudy in Northampton County, I may have stretched the proceedings another hour.  I was content with the leech experiment and very pleased with the size of a couple of these bass, so four hours was enough this morning.  

Some early river pics.

I partially have Lars to thank for me heading to the river this morning.  Not that I fished one of his spots or anything, but he shared a positive report from a couple days ago.  He had fish on topwater and the murdich minnow, but I resisted the urge once I caught a good bass using my chosen method today.  Sometimes you want to catch them the way you want to catch them?  Of course, if I was handed a goose egg early, I may have thrown everything in the box at them.  Thankfully, I did not have to.  The leech thing would be great from a drift boat, maybe even better with some long-ass drifts, and it definitely excelled in the Juniata, especially in the uniform grassy flats.  The Delaware took more adjustments for depth and variable and competing currents (a lot of mending) but it works, yo, so call it another tool when conditions are right.  I am praying that the forecasted rain for midweek actually amounts to something.  I miss those brown trouts, who will be feeding up before the spawn pretty soon, but there are far worse ways to spend a morning than how I spent this one.

Another chunker.