December 30, 2024 – Who You Callin’ a Mitch? The 2024 Farewell Tour Was a Successful One – SEPA Blueline

A peek of blaze orange and some other colors.

After Eric and I fished for 6 hours and, according to his onX maps, covered just over 4 miles of woods and water, he went out with the shotgun at dusk and got himself a doe.  He is mostly an archer, and the Silver Fox pointed out that it was a gut shot based on the grainy photo, but I still think I am the mitch today!  I was home taking a nap while he was walking back into the woods, probably running on water, deer jerky, and the rush of a good day of fishing (not to discount an outdoors hall pass from his lovely wife).  It was a good day for both of us.  We got a significant-enough amount of rain in the evening after a couple light rain days in a row, so the crick was in its banks but full and stained.  By the time we walked into the first spot and were fishing by 7:50 AM or so, I would estimate that we had about 12 inches of visibility.  Probably a streamer day, I thought.  That did play out as expected, but I did get one decent one on a pink worm and Eric fooled a few with the egg.  We were both fishing small Eric-tied buggers on the mono rig, and at times I wish I had chosen to streamer fish the traditional way.  I even had the other rod in the ‘Ru this morning.  However, the mono rig is versatile.  Even though the fish rarely hit a dead drifted bugger and wanted it moving on the swing, it was warm enough to fish without gloves and not only strip but also strip set with the 15 lb. butt section of the green mono.  Plenty of fish were caught, and a few of them were small stream beauties over 12 inches long, which was a nice change for me from earlier in the week.

One of Eric's better ones.

Some dudes bowhunt this land, so we had a little blaze orange with us and were hoping any fellas in the tree stands were also sporting some.  We saw no hunters, but we did see a lot of dead animals.  We saw a drowned raccoon near the first hole, a big dead turkey vulture or raptor, and the carcass of a buck who probably met his demise last year.  The decay did not seem to affect the wild trout, who ate well.  They had the typically slow and nippy tendencies of winter fish, especially as the day wore on, but they were slowly chasing and nipping at meat, as I noted above.  Once we dialed in the pattern and the water type that held feeding fish, we proceeded with confidence.  That confidence also helped us both stay patient and stick a couple of better fish in deeper holes that did not fit the pattern.  I mentioned the egg and the worm because we were trying to work as a team and offer a couple options.  In a few cases, I moved a nicer one with a bugger, and then Eric got him to eat an egg—or vice versa.  We did not even discuss this, but we fish well together and make good complementary choices naturally.  I believe that we both consider our fish on this creek our fish.  What I mean is that if we were alone, we might have had a chance at all of them but working as a team we share in the success, keep each other honest, and even offer a little coaching when needed.

Doubles, eggs, buggers, even the san juan worm.

Fishing was good for the first 90 minutes or so, and then we wasted a little time with two deep holes that have winter all over them.  My gut was telling me that before the huge warm-up the day before, these seemingly money holes were probably fringed in ice at best, covered in a thin layer at worst.  They were also much dirtier than the moderate riffles where active fish seemed to be set up and looking for a meal.  We may have squandered some prime time fishing this deeper water, but we retooled and made the most of the pattern we established early.  We fished until about 2 PM before turning back, but things got more challenging after 12 PM.  We had way more short hits—that could mean fish are getting pecky or that we had been out and fishing hard for a while and were experiencing diminishing returns.  Changing weather was a factor, as well, with winds picking up and a dry chill returning to the air.  I think it was a little of all of the above because I definitely missed two fish after lunch that I should have had.  Contrary to conventional wisdom about winter fishing, I have fished the winters for so long that I am never surprised when wild brown trout act the way they would in any other season.  Sun gets high, midday approaches, and they shut off for good long while.  Remember that when someone tells you to sleep in and fish from 10 AM to 2 PM in the winter like a mitch!

My best, one of Eric's best.

Eric wanted to be back in the woods with a shotgun by 3 PM, and fishing had slowed considerably, so we made an aerobic trek back to the parking spots around 2 PM.  We were satisfied with the morning’s proceedings, and even if he didn’t have plans to hunt, we may have come up dry until 3:30 or 4 PM when the magic hour begins (sometimes).  Even with the year of the drought nearly behind us, I still clocked 65 trips in 2024.  I will take it.  It was a challenging year.  Not only were flows at record lows, but the striper run that I thought would keep me busy into the third week of December fizzled after the first week of the month, and then there was a premature cold snap to end the season.  I go back to work on Thursday and Friday, but I definitely made the most of my winter vacation despite being sick for a week too.  More rain on Wednesday night, so never say never for a first fish of 2025 on January 1.  The new license and trout stamp are ready to go if I get the opportunity.

Afternoon bonus shot.  Happy New Year, mitches!

December 28, 2024 – Some Small Stream Sneaking in the Light Rain for a Mess of Small Trout – Berks County

Maturing early, I see.

Well, I did not want for action this morning on a small SEPA freestoner.  I was fishing by 7:45 AM, testing my theory about the morning bite still being a factor this early in the winter, especially with rather typical temperatures—it ranged between 35 and 43 while I was on the water.  I also got to test my new rain gear for the second time this winter.  I stayed dry, but I had the hood up until at least 11 AM before it let up.  That pause in the precipitation did not last very long, but it did feel good to dry out for a while.  I covered a good bit of water and even fished my way back, cherry picking a couple high percentage winter holes that did not produce to my satisfaction on the way upstream (or downstream to be honest).  The slow steady rain did not amount to much until it was quitting time around 1 PM, and after a two-hour break from the wet stuff on the crick, I drove home in a light rain, much like my predawn drive.  It was noon before I started noticing some more color and a few decaying leaves in the current.  I caught fish consistently on a size 10 natural jigged bugger until about 10 AM, and then things quieted down until I put on a waltz and a size 20 frenchie on the dropper tag.  I was surprised not to catch more chubs or fallfish, but I think the creek was pretty cold with snow melt and even some fringe ice in the spots that don’t get much sunlight.  I was also surprised to catch a holdover brown.  This creek is stocked, but I rarely find any stockers left by this time of the year and certainly no rainbows. 

Some dreary crick pics.

This being a freestoner, few fish were found in the pocket water unless I happened upon just the right moderate flow and the right depth.  Instead, fish were in the holes.  I moved a couple that looked better than 8 inches, and I stuck one that was 9 or 10 that came off.  Otherwise, I was catching 3 or 4 small trout in every hole.  It was fun once I accepted that those little ones were simply going to outcompete any of the better ones today.  I am sure I caught over 20 wild brown trout and a handful of creek chubs.  I kept secretly hoping for a day-maker or two, but it was clear that today was not that day.  It is hard to complain about a double-digit day in late December regardless of size, although I did wonder if a larger average fish was just as active on a larger creek somewhere today.  Most of the fish today were from the same year class, maybe two-year-olds, so there was a good spawn.  I did catch a couple YOY while nymphing too, so the low, hot water this year did not affect the broods too much, I hope.  I saw one redd that was pretty covered with silt already, but I have not found the spot where most of the fish spawn on this creek, not yet anyway.  Having only caught one true big fish here, and maybe a half a dozen mature fish in recent years, there may only be a few mating pairs that keep this population going.  I have read that it does not take more than two (or four) to sustain a wild population, and that might be true here.  Time will tell.  I could happen upon 10 redds some future November.  I did catch a 7-inch male that was all colored up and looking, well, male even at that size, so mature is relative on a creek this small. 

A consistent dinkfest but plenty of winter action.

The plan was to quit around noon, but I was so enjoying the lack of rain that I not only pushed upstream further than anticipated but also hit a select few holes on the way back.  Fishing got tough after 10 AM despite the clouds and stain.  Man, that return trip was really disappointing on the fishing scale.  I did catch one more trout and a chub, but besides that I don’t think I got a hit after the lunch hour.  With the water getting dirtier, I even tried a black jigged bugger, but nothing seemed to outperform the natural one I started the morning with.  I saw some fish moving around or spooking when I peeked from a few higher vantage points, but I did not see any bigger fish.  Still, I am glad I took the time to walk back slowly and take my time.  I mostly had the place to myself—the dog walkers came out when the rain stopped, and I spoke to one unsuccessful fly guy at the lot when we were both leaving.  It was not a bad day for a walk in the woods, and little ones were pretty ravenous for late December.  I am heading out with Eric on Monday following a very warm and rainy Sunday night, so I hope the fish stay hungry for a mitch.  I realized today that I don’t go back to work until next Thursday, so I can’t rule out another solo trip either!

This weather is not without its photographic charm.

December 26, 2024 – Another Chilly, High Pressure Afternoon Session – Northampton County

A little snow remains.

I had been fighting my first winter cold and/or sinus thing for a few days, but I was feeling markedly better by Christmas day.  I slept in to let it warm up from a morning start in the 20’s (again), and then I made my way to one of my go-to Lehigh Valley limestone cricks.  It was going to be a decent day.  Afterall, lows in the 20’s are better than lows in the mid-teens.  I had a plan to visit a couple cricks, maybe three of them just to scout, but with the air temperature still hovering below freezing at noon when I arrived at the first one, I saved my energy for another day.  Despite the cold temps and snow on the ground, there was still no fringe ice.  There was also little to no snow melt to worry about with temps barely getting above freezing for an hour today.  I knew I could find at least a couple despite (or because of) these calm, static conditions, even if that meant nothing until the bright sun dipped below the horizon around 3 PM.  Luckily, I did not have to wait that long, at least for the first fish of the day, which was also my best of 2.5—I landed another and dropped a second during "magic hour."  I got one to take a midge under a bobber in a wintering hole at my first stop, but I could not repeat that success here or at similar spots throughout the afternoon (I even gave the Bonnie Braid indie a shot at a couple deep, calm spots).  In other words, no clear pattern has been established for this guy just yet.  I fished it all and covered a lot of snowy ground.  I had the place to myself, so it was a good excuse for a walk in the woods.  Not a dog person, so I suppose a fishing rod is my excuse to get outside in the winter.  Those dog folks are the only other hardy souls I see out there on days like today.

Got a decent one on a midge shortly after arriving.

This is the time of year when bugs are scarce, but I am not an egg man—and I am rarely a worm boy either.  Instead, I fish larva that I know are in the cricks year-round or scuds or small buggers.  The first fish took a midge larva, and I had a couple other bumps on a walts worm in soft pockets.  I kept returning to the jigged bugger—dead drifting, letting it fall slowly in soft stuff, weighting down to drift under root balls and behind current breaks.  That finally paid off on my walk back to the ‘Ru.  Around 2:30 PM, I had a swing and a miss, then a short battle with an average brown, then another hard bump that did not connect.  When I threw back at the same soft pocket where the bumped occurred, I finally had the opportunity to land and photograph my second and last fish of the afternoon.  I have been lazy and not fishing the cold morning beat, but I may need to switch it up for my future outings.  The mornings should be mild enough to make this prospect even more inviting and productive.  With rain in the forecast, I may fish on Saturday or Sunday, and I have a Monday trip penciled in with Eric.  With hunters back in the woods in the SEPA counties, we may have to get a mitch out on a crick that is not our usual oasis.  I hope he hasn’t forgotten how to fish for trouts that are actually pressured once in a while!  This will be a social fishing day, so fall stockie bashing is not off the table (although I am sure I can find something a little more exciting).

A little action on a jigged bugger to close out the afternoon.

December 16, 2024 – A Couple Stolen Hours After the Rain – SEPA Limestoner

Another decent rain.

I thought the rain was going to end sooner than it did this morning.  When I was ready to make a move, I checked the gauges and was shocked to see that I would have to wait a little longer.  I guess with the ground being frozen earlier this week, even a .75 inch of rain had more effect than I was counting on.  I was hoping to toss a streamer for a while.  With the holidays approaching, I got involved in some other things around the house and an errand or two, and it was after 1 PM before I checked the local gauges again.  It was go time, but now it was nymphing time not streamer time.  The sun sets around 4:30 PM as we approach the solstice and the shortest days of the year, so I was probably going to have a two-hour window.  I chose a little, self-contained section that I like to check out a couple times per year when I know a lot of fishermen are not going to be out there (or see me back there).  This one was once a bit of a nursery for a better-known crick, but storms and development have done some ravaging.  Still, the fish are there.   They are small, but they are small wild brown trout.  

A lot of little trouts cooperated.  A couple better ones swiped and missed.

I tried jigging a bugger, then swinging that jigged bugger, which elicited swipes but not hookups, before I tried the sj worm and then a few other bugs.  The worm accounted for the best trout, maybe an 8 incher, and a couple big chubs.  When I hung a size 18 CDC tag fly off the bend of that wormy hook, I got at least 5 more small trout.  I did not try the egg, but I assume that would have caught some more small fish.  It got dark quickly, as expected, so I did not cover much water.  I swung a small thin mint bugger back to the ‘Ru and moved two more small trouts, so I may have done better just sticking with plan A and covering water with a bugger.  The clouds and mild temps persisted all afternoon, so it might have been more effective or at least moved better fish.  Today, I was just happy to get out and see that wild fish are hanging on in this tiny suburban crick.

A couple of the chubs may have been bigger!

December 13, 2024 – I Picked a Heck of a Day to Reintroduce Myself to the Post-Spawn Wild Trouts – Northampton County

Back to the trouts.

With the exception of a lightning strike blitz, I think the fat lady has sung on the fall run.  Participation is low, so reports are slim, but it sounds like the fish followed the bait way off the coast.  There is no biomass of rats to liven up December, so I probably made my last trip last week.  It was a disappointing year for me with many skunks.  Blitz chasing can be like that if you are not close enough to be there every day.  I really wanted to get the boy on a mess of slots and shorts before it was all over, but the small fish are just not there.  I believe the science that stocks are low.  The Chesapeake is in a tailspin, and even the Hudson River stock has been way off for a couple years in a row.  I also think that the beach replenishment and the resurgence of bunker has combined to change the fish’s routes and habits.  I heard dudes blaming seals and whales, also quite prevalent this year, but I am not buying it.  Dolf and I talked about going today, and Jeff wants to go this weekend, but I decided instead to refocus on the post-spawn trouts after about a six-week absence.  It was a frigid day for late fall.  Air temps never got above 35 degrees and there was even a NW breeze to contend with midday.  I had low expectations, but I was confident that I could find at least one fish to make the ride worth it.  It may have been the perfect day to get the kinks out because they were not going to make it easy on me.  I arrived around 11 AM and had one hit before 2 PM.  From 2 to 3:30 PM when the sun was less intense on the water and the air (and water) temperatures may have hit their daily peak, I missed one and landed two.  I would call that success for a day like today!

Charged springs, good flows, bluebird skies, finally a late afternoon bite.

I started out dead drifting a micro-bugger in some deep holes, but think I was operating like it was winter because it felt like winter.  I eventually started fishing like it was late fall and fish could still be spread out anywhere after the spawn.  I saw some silted over redds where I always see them on this creek.  I know what to look for on any creek and how to avoid redds, but it does help to have intimate knowledge of a crick and where the fish spawn every year.  The only change I saw was more redds under overhangs, which was probably a smart instinctual thing in the ultra-low water this fall.  The significance of the last rainfall could not be overstated!  The springs were pumping water, flows were solid, and there was even a stain.  Were it warmer and cloudier, I may have wanted to strip and swing a streamer in these flows.  The fish that did hit and eat, took a single size 16 pink tag fly, so not even on the bottom but close.  I missed one on a single 18 perdigon too, but that fish was tucked up under broken water near a root ball.  I saw 10 bugs all afternoon, and nothing was active on the calm surface of the wintering pools.  I may have to get after them again this weekend.  I also have off on the upcoming rainy Monday, so that streamer thing might happen after all.

Didn't know if it was going to happen until this little girl decided to cooperate.

December 8, 2024 – What a Difference a Few Days Makes – Ocean County

SW wind, from Point to Park, the boy.

I actually had Thursday off and Friday morning, and none of the plans lined up with the weather or surf conditions.  Dolf said he was going on Friday morning since he was busy with kid sports all weekend, but he ghosted me for sleep, I guess.  Saturday also looked like a window, and I was packed up to go with Jeff.  When I woke up at 3:30 AM, however, I had a text from a jamoke at 12:30 AM saying he’d had an accident and couldn’t make it.  Instead of rolling ahead without him, I decided to save my energy for a promised trip today with my son.  He was pretty hype after witnessing a bunker blitz last week and landing a fish on a pencil popper.  Even after today’s terrible outing, he wants to give it one last shot next week.  That is cool with me.  I need that secondhand excitement these days to get me up early for the long ride.  It’s a lot of work to be a PA surf angler!  Based on the low participation out there this morning, I am thinking that it’s been a tough week for the land-based anglers.  It was not perfect, that is for sure: SW winds, a significant northward sweep, a little stain.  The boats were way out there, barely visible without binoculars, but one dude who glassed them while we chatted noted all the birds diving around them.  In other words, it was probably still a good weekend for the boat crew, even though their participation dwindles each December too.  Do I pay for December in the slip or not, you know?   The boy and I covered the Point down to the Park and back a couple times just searching after coming up fishless at a few sexy looking spots.  I miss some of those missing year classes!  Even without blitzes, I used to count on a few fish at first light if I found the loons and a nice bar or two before doing the run and gun thing.  Bunker is fun, but some mornings I miss the sandeels dug in for weeks at a time, especially when I am trying to get my boy on a couple fish, regardless of size.  Almost time to chase the trouts again, but I have at least a couple more surf trips in me.  Those boats are still on something, so surf blitz chances remain if the winds get right again.

A skunk, a sense of humor, a shout out from Jeff's Rum Runner amigos? Almost quitting time...

November 29 and December 1, 2024 – A Couple More Surf Trips with Success this Time – Monmouth and Ocean Counties

Hiding 1/3 in his jacket but a very decent first popper fish

I took a ride to fish the second high tide that was poised to flood into sundown of Friday night.  I think the rain earlier in the day, and a blow post-rainstorm, had the fishery off that night.  The water was green with rainwater where the boy and I had found a few blocks of bait (peanuts and sand eels) last visit.  They must have pushed out over the bar or moved south or something today.  I tossed a pencil hoping for a random blow up and did a lot of scanning for life in and above the water.  Because of the stained water, I also tossed my bunker spoon and a black SP Minnow, just to see if fish were there and working with changed visibility.  Not a touch.  Right after the official sunset while I still had some light, I made a move north to another beach that had life a week prior.  Enjoying the rare solitude on the beaches this fall, I fished into the night for an hour with the black SP, a confidence lure, and did not get a touch at the second spot either.

Friday night in MoCo with nary a bump well into dark.

The boy and I met Sandy Dunkin at Grumpy’s on Sunday and rode the Park for the potential early morning bite.  It was frigid and honking from the West, which kept the crowds relatively light.  The boy experienced a couple of firsts in the Park and a much better first later at the aforementioned bait-heavy spot to the north.  It was his first beach buggy excursion, which I know he appreciated in the cold.  I had some fingerless gloves for him, and even a finger guard for handling braid with wet hands, not to mention spanking new chest waders (an early Christmas present) but it was cold out there.  We all wisely did some waiting and hoping from the buggy with the heat running.  In true Sandy fashion, Jeff couldn’t find his waders this morning, so he got wet when the mayhem went off briefly in the Park.  Right before 9 AM, about 100 of our closest friends and we had a shot at a blitz on adult bunker.  I got a 3-ounce pencil into the milieu once, but did not hook up.  Two nice bass were landed in that flurry—out of 50 dudes, mind you.  Still, it was a sign that the adult bunkers was around.  The boy witnessed the madness of a blitz, however brief, so if we didn’t catch, he at least had a buggy ride AND a shot at a blitz.  Heck, we even had seals in the surf zone eating bunker—quite the nature show this fall, although no fox sighting in the Park nor big rutting bucks in MoCo just yet.

An early, cold start in the Park, the warm buggy, and the armada on acres of bait and birds

We rode north and south along the beach looking, and only found one bird eating a peanut on the sand.  The boy spotted a popper that would come in handy later, however.  Score!  We decided to air up and take one last ride to a couple of the spots I had located, including the one I fished Friday that was alive with bait and good soft structure for over a week.  We could see the birds hovering even from the street.  The boy was the first over the dune, and after seeing what was happening, gestured excitedly and was off.  By the time I cleared the dunes, he had run two blocks north to intercept bass and adult bunker in the wash.  I caught up as quickly as I could and launched my pencil into the fray.  My first cast did nothing but confirm the bait in question—I hooked a 10-inch bunker I had to reel in quickly and release.  On my second cast, I hooked a piggy!  I fought a fish at least the size of the one shown below that Jeff landed in the same blitz.  It may have been slightly bigger based on a couple of the fish we did see hit the beach during the same productive window.  I tend to trust my knots and gear, so the drag on my reel was pretty much cranked down.  I caught 50 fish last fall on the same 60lb leader and 30lb braid, but number 51 broke me off.  I don’t know if a weak spot in the braid failed or the connection to the barrel swivel between braid and leader failed, but I lost the fish right over the bar after a solid battle.  I tend to rush them in too, already thinking about the next one, during a blitz.  Sadly, I also lost a lucky wooden pencil that was probably worth 45 bucks in today’s dollars!  In the moment, my concern was getting back in the game.

No waders, rod in the sand at his feet, good bass.

I was delayed while helping Jeff land a great pencil popper fish, and then I took a minute to put a pencil on the boy’s set up when his shad was getting no love.  I did a quick look for an extra leader or at least my leader material in my plug bag, and instead made the executive decision to tie directly to Power Pro and get back in there.  I tied on the popper the boy found in the Park and then decided to hand that rod, my 10-footer, to him in case it helped him get a little more distance.  I grabbed the 9-footer from him and quickly landed a slot fish on a pencil.  Not long after that I could see the 10-foot rod bent over in my peripheral vision.  The boy was hooked up on a slot fish that ate his found popper with extreme prejudice.  Jeff and I both stopped what we were doing to coach him into his first pencil popper bass.  We were all pretty excited, but I had to get a couple more before the blitz was over.  I did land a nicer fish and had a couple other blow ups before it was all over.  I walked out on the bar, which was still covered in scattered and scared adult bunker and peanuts, but couldn't call up a fourth bass.  I bet that 3-ounce lucky pencil would have slayed…  After taking an informal poll amongst the three of us, we decided to be content with our success here after a long morning.  Still plenty of bassing left to go, even with this frigid weather forecast.

They let me get a couple.  That one that got away though....