December 31, 2015 – Resica Falls FFO Section to End the Year

The Little Falls on a gray day.

Both Eric and I had off all this week, so we made tentative plans to fish if the weather cooperated.  It's hard to believe that we haven't fished together since April of this year when we spent Good Friday chasing trout on the Pickering Creek DHALO section.  Although it remained unseasonably warm, a lot of rain fell this week, but today looked workable, as the gauges fell quite a bit overnight.  It was only going down to 36 overnight, with a high of 46.  Not as warm as Christmas, but still mild for winter fishing. 

I picked Eric up before 6 AM, and we made great time to the Resica Falls fly fishing only section (FFO) of the Bush Kill, which I hadn’t visited in many, many years.  It is one of Eric’s favorite places to fish, and I know it’s a beautiful piece of water, so I was glad to take the long drive.  I used to fish the area while in college and even chased wild brookies in the State Forrest land along Route 402.  I may have even dragged a girlfriend down into the Saw Creek to show her my dry fly prowess on kamikaze natives.  I hope she at least got lunch out of the deal. 

Fish number one for me, one of 5 for the morning.

We have had quite the lack of winter this winter, but we did see signs of snow and ice in woods around the creek.  When we descended down to the water, my thermometer read a cold 40 degrees for water temp, even though the air got over 45 by the time we quit at noon.  Water was high with a slight stain, but no worse than it would be in, say, late April.  That said, neither one of us was game to make any creek crossings in high, stained 40 degree water (and air), so we mostly concentrated on one deep hole for most of the morning, with a couple short, unproductive excursions downstream.  Thankfully, it was a productive hole.

A healthy brown who made it through the summer.

Eric had early success on a zebra midge, bringing a fish to hand within ten minutes of arriving.  I got my first not that long after on a tungsten pheasant tail.  Besides the odd fallfish or chub, it was all stocked browns for the morning.  Eric missed a couple others, while I ended the morning with 5 trout and an acrobatic fallfish.  It was a great way to close a solid 2015 fishing season.  It was a bit trout heavy this year, but I have thoroughly enjoyed rekindling my love of fly fishing and hitting some new creeks and some old, old haunts in the process.  My 2016 license is purchased and ready to go in the event the cold front coming through is short-lived....

Eric working hard on the last day of 2015.

December 21 and 22, 2015 – Wild Brown Tuesday after a Polar Bear Club Monday

Wild browns on a rainy, warm winter day.

I am not going to lie.  Not only did I take a good two hour skunk on Monday at a little Class A trickle, but I also took a header into the 48 degree water, I mean damn near full immersion.  I stumbled on the bank and into the creek hands and, nearly, face first.  My waders filled up above the belt, and I had to put both arms in to the shoulders to push myself back up and out.  The only good thing, besides no witnesses, is that my 80 dollar Otterbox kept my phone completely dry.  I spent the rest of the morning driving around scouting out a couple new spots, heat cranked, trying to dry off, which didn’t work.

Flash forward to Tuesday (with an extra dry shirt and jacket packed) I headed to one of the spots I scouted on Monday while I was driving around avoiding hypothermia.  This little creek on the outskirts of the Poconos was new for me, but I will be back.  It is stocked once in the spring, I believe, but the PFBC is managing it differently lately due to a very encouraging survey of wild fish.  I was definitely encouraged.

I started out working quietly upstream from my parking spot in a slower, moderately deep section where I had seen a handful of fish from a high spot on the bank.  Working all the way up to the head with a tandem of Z-wing caddis and soft hackle pt dropper, I got no takers, but at least the rain had held off.  The air temp was around 53 degrees, and the water was a chilly 48, fog here and there, especially later in the day.  Upstream of me looked like more of the same, so I worked my way back down, trying each little pocket, but really just searching for a good wintering hole.

When I found that hole, it was game on for about an hour straight.  As I let the caddis and pt drift down the seam of a deep run, I got my first fish.  I was actually disappointed for a second because it was a rainbow, but he was a pretty holdover.  

Fish #1, a holdover rainbow.

The next drift yielded a little wild brownie, who took the pheasant tail as it swung upward at the end of the drift, and it was 4 more wild browns after that on either the pt or the Z-wing caddis nymph.  When I stopped getting hits, I put a little spit shot on and got more love.   The wild browns were getting better too, a couple over 12 inches, a couple quite acrobatic, which gave me a couple smiles.  Hits were incredibly subtle, but the fish were plenty active when hooked.

First of 7 wild browns.

At some point, I broke the soft hackle dropper off on a submerged log, so I tied on the heaviest nymph I had handy, a tungsten green weenie.  As that nymph drifted through the hole, I hooked a bigger fish that ended up being a 14 inch rainbow, healthy with good fins, so probably a holdover from a spring stocking this year or last.  For a minute I was excited that I had hooked a good wild brown, but after a few good runs and a nice jump, I was happy to bring the bow to hand.

A solid bow in pristine shape.

Brown ate a green weenie too.

At some point, the rain started coming down more heavily, so I paused and tied another caddis on.  I hooked my biggest brown of the morning on a caddis nymph not long after that.  He was fatter than his cousins and put on quite a show.  Not only did I smile, but I think I laughed out loud as he went airborne multiple times.  He was a good 13 inches too.

A fattie.

I worked my way slowly down to the tail of this pool with no takers, so instead of wandering around in the rain, looking for another wintering hole, I ended on a high note and made my way back to my parking spot after a very productive two hours.  I would say 9 fish, 7 of them wild browns, makes for a solid morning, especially on December 22 in sub-50 degree water.  I am hoping I can get out again after Christmas, and I actually have tentative plans with Eric, who is off next week.  Who knows, I may have some new flies to fish with if Santa is good to me…

Rain didn't stop them from eating.

December 14, 2015 – Back to the Fly Rod on a 70 Degree Winter Morning + A Big Rainbow Bonus

Bad pic of a big beast.  A 19 inch rainbow in the net.

With my semester winding down, I was looking at a hellish 4 out of 5 days this week helping students with papers and proctoring exams, early mornings and late nights.  Today was the only day that presented a window to enjoy the unseasonably warm weather, so after some debate in the morning, I decided to “work from home” for half the day and head about an hour north for some trout.  The water temp was a nice 57-58 degrees on my chosen Lehigh Valley stream, which has some limestone influence that keeps it free of ice all winter.  That has not been a factor so far this winter, with average lows equaling the normal average highs for this time of year.

I started out fishing with a zebra midge and a size 20 pheasant tail dropper.  While working my way up to a flat deep hole that I know usually holds fish, I watched at least two fish feeding, bulging just below the surface in a run along the far bank.  I put one down with a bad cast.  The hole is deep, even in low water like this December, so I couldn’t wade out far to get enough room behind me for a long back cast.  Making due with the room I had, I just nicked a tree branch on the back-cast, which sent the cast plopping down short of the run.  No worries.  I slowly inched up to the next fish taking nymphs.  I didn’t mess this one up, either.  After a nice fight, I had a healthy 12 inch wild brown in the net.

First fish of the day: a sporty wild brown.

Action was slower than I expected after that.  From a high vantage point, I could only see the odd sucker or two flashing near the bottom.  I made my way around the next bend to a good deep run, but got no attention there either.  I decided to swing a wet fly back down through the same run.  I tied a heavier pheasant tail on and dropped a size 16 soft hackle about a foot below it.  I then high sticked the pockets and let the wet swing up at the back of the run and into the quiet eddies.  Not long after switching up techniques, I landed a little wild brown, all of 6 inches.  It was good to see at least two year classes in the creek, though.

Behind that big rock in a deep pocket...

The highlight of the day, however, was taking a beast of a holdover rainbow out of the pocket water above.  None of the section of the creek I was fishing is stocked, but fish move their way up and down over time.  This bow was ornery from living in tight swift quarters for a while.  Fat, he’d been eating well all summer and fall too.  When I set the hook, he just stayed put under the white water, so I had no idea how big he was until I put more pressure on him and he took off running up and down the tight spot.  I had to jump off a rocky perch and get into a better place to net him, and even then he took two more runs when I thought he was spent.  I took about 5 pictures, but only the one at the top of the post was not blurry or foggy (hot, humid day).  I measured him at 19 inches before I revived and released him.  I ended the day thinking I had another pig, which ended up being a big sucker who ate a copper john in a deep hole at the base of a falls.  On that note, I packed up and headed for home.  Not a numbers day, but it was certainly a great way to spend a December weekday.

December 12, 2015 – Chasing Schoolies with Joe on a Warm Winter Morning

Joe prospecting or resting a sore shoulder?

I messaged my dad on Friday morning while at work: Get your surf stuff ready.  3:30 AM my crib.  And he simply replied:  I will be there.  Anxious to cast a new acquisition, a discontinued-but-treasured-in-some-circles Cabela’s Predator surf rod, Joe was indeed at my crib before 3:30 AM.  I had gotten my stuff ready on Friday night after putting the boy to bed, so we were on the road, suited up, and fishing an Ocean County beach by 5:15 AM.

A fat bucktail-eating schoolie bass

Despite very light SW winds, there was a good swell hitting the beach when we arrived.  High tide was not until about 8 AM, so things got rougher as the morning progressed, but it was a good rough.  There was plenty of white water, and big waves hitting the beach where there were cuts in the bar.  We were both overdressed for the air temp, and it was not safe to walk into the cooling water more than a couple feel, so swamp ass was on the menu.  It was one of those days where the waves returning behind you were strong enough to take your feet out from under you.  But with no grass in the water, and even some birds diving out beyond casting distance, not to mention the distinct smell of nearby bunker schools a couple times, it could have been a great morning.  This time of year, when the small bass signal the end of the fall run, is one of my favorite times to fish.  Sure, I like a big bass as much as anyone, but I also like the prospect of catching 10, 20, 30 bass in a session.  They will hit plugs, bucktails, shad bodies, small metals, basically whatever conditions will allow. 

About 26 inches (measured by boot).

I started out throwing a 5” Mag Minnow floater and a black teaser.  I got no love before sun up on either.  My dad was throwing a 1 oz bucktail with a shad body.  He also got no love.  Around 7 AM, after 90 minutes and many casts, I switched up to a ¾ oz. white bucktail and kept the black teaser.  While holding the swimming bucktail behind the first the wave, I finally got the bump of a decent fish.  Though short, he was fat and accounted well for himself, especially on my light Ron Arra 1083 rod, perfect for this kind of fishing.  Joe’s new rod, which I cast a few times, was also perfect for this fishing, but despite changing lures a couple times, and making many casts himself, he came up with a goose egg. 

Another shortie.  He preferred the teaser.

I landed one more short, this time on the teaser, again right in the wash behind the first wave.   I was happy to have a couple fish to show for all the effort, but I was pleading with the fish gods that Joey would feel the tug of a bass.  We ran into a few other pluggers who had similar results:  the schoolies are there, but spread out all over.  Instead of getting 5 from the same structure, it was 1 or two and then done.  On foot, without a buggy, I was happy to have some action and some fishing time with the old man.  On the way home, the gas was $1.75 a gallon!!   And my wife got to enjoy some Jersey bagels as a thank you for letting me sneak out on a weekend morning (again).  I may have one (or two) more surf trips in me, especially since I have 2 weeks off at Christmas.  If it stays mild, trout fishing all winter is on the horizon….

Nice to end with a sunrise pic instead of leading with one this week!

December 5, 2015 – Surf Casting Practice in the Dead Sea

Morning has broken...

I was on the road to an Ocean County beach at 3:30 AM again on Saturday.  My dad was fighting a cold and sinus thing, so he stayed in bed.  The only thing he missed was the scenery.  When I lead with two sunrise pics in a week, you know fishing is slow!  I arrived and started fishing around 5 AM.  I started by throwing a black SP minnow with a teaser on my 10 footer, but within 60 minutes I went back to the Subaru for my lighter set-up with a smaller plug, hoping for schoolies or even rats.  I just had the premonition that it was not going to happen today. 

The water was clean and the surf was calm due to a couple days of NW wind, but there should have been at least short resident fish on some of the structure I could reach.  I targeted holes and cuts I had scouted when I fished blindly on Thursday.  Since it was a Saturday, I had more company today, with plenty of bait guys set up and buggies running back and forth hoping for signs of life in the form of birds or bait.  I spoke to some guys and watched many others who came up dry, not even skates.  I made a lot of casts to good structure like the cut below.  The fact that I didn’t get a bump would have been depressing had it not been such a nice day.  After sitting on a bench for a relaxing 15 minutes to cool down, and watching gannets dive in the distance and bored dudes soaking bunker chunks, I was back on the road home before 8:30 AM.  I am hoping with a warm future weather pattern in place for a week or more that I will at least get a shot at the schoolie run that should be happening soon.  It would be nice to get the old man on some fish too.  Trout on Monday morning??  Maybe…

The view from the bar.

December 3, 2015 – Indulging another Passion on LBI

...like the first morning.

I don’t know where November went, and I can’t believe I have not fished since late October, but I guess life happens.  There was a time not that long ago when I put a lot of miles on my vehicles going east to the ocean and bays.  I spent nearly 10 years renting a shore house on LBI with Ward and friends, and we fished a lot for fluke and weakies all summer.  He had a 28’ center console (replace by family and golf clubs for the time being) and I had a couple backbay boats (one still sitting in my driveway waiting for something, perhaps the boy…).  I also acquired my surf fishing passion around that time, reintroduced by my boy Adolf, who spent the summers of his youth at his Grandma Helen’s place in Beach Haven West.  For many years, from mid-November to late December, I would make a least one long trip per week to surf fish for bass and blues.  Even my early spring trout fishing was interspersed with back bay and surf fishing for bass.  I think all that changed after Sandy.  The Ocean County beaches I frequented were changed drastically, and then the resulting replenishment efforts up and down the coast put an even bigger damper on the fishing, especially the fall run, burying jetties and filling cuts and holes, places that would make a bait fish and bass come in close to shore.  My rediscovery of fly fishing and my trips to the beach not being worth my time and money directly coincided.  I stayed away from the fall and winter after Sandy, except to help a family friend clean up on LBI and to lead a service trip to Breezy Point, NY; instead, I trout fished all winter and got pleasantly sidetracked.

My hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars’ worth of salt water gear has been calling my name again this year.  I took time before Thanksgiving to clean and oil reels and tie teaser rigs and put together a plug bag, and then work got crazy and family got sick and…  But today was the day.  The conditions and tides were right, the temp was nice, and I had a “sick day” to burn.  I was up at 2:30 AM, too excited to sleep until the alarm went off at 3 AM, and I got on the road by 3:30 AM.  Not having done any scouting and purposely not reading reports while I was not able to fish (just makes things worse!) I fished blind at some old haunts, a stretch of beach on the north end of the island that had undoubtedly changed since I last walked the beach.  I fished in the dark for a couple hours without a bump, throwing a black Daiwa SP minnow with a black feather teaser.  When the sun came up, I saw that there was a lot more sandbar than I remembered, and even the exposed jetties (or re-exposed jetties – nature vs Army Corp of Engineers?) were covered in pumped sand in shallow water.  I took advantage of one such massive bar, and waded out when I had enough light to see my feet. 

The conditions were great until about 8 AM: clean water, enough wave action from a SE swell to create whitewater despite the strong west wind, which usually knocks the surf down flat.  While out close to the outer edge of the bar, I got that familiar bump of a striped bass unloading on the T-Hex and teaser I had chosen so I could get out deeper with my casts.  In their native element, the surf zone, bass fight so well.  A healthy fish, but a short of about 27 inches hung from my black teaser after a short battle.  He hit right at the outer lip of the bar, not 20 feet from my feet.  Fun, I tell you, fun.  Standing out on the bar with waves rolling by, I left my phone under my dry top and quickly released the fish, hoping his cousins were swimming along the bar with him.  I caught no other fish, so no fish pics, but I did snap the shot above before I waded in from the increasing surf.  By 8:30 AM, the wind against tide was stirring up the waves, and I was getting more weeds on the line, and I certainly didn’t expect fish to be active in bright sunshine, so I called it a morning. 

One fish on the line, and I am already plotting my next trip to the beach, maybe Saturday morning with my dad.  I can trout fish all winter, but these bass won’t be here forever.  There were plenty of signs that things could be good next time: gannets diving for bunker a half-mile from shore, some nice cuts and holes to break up the bars, great reports from the boats working in-shore.  It’s a long ride, but the scenery, the exhilaration of being waist deep in the ocean in December, that alien tug on the line in the pitch black night…  I can see why I was hooked for so long…  Am hooked again??

As a bonus, I got to stop by a favorite store on the island, Fisherman’s Headquarters in Ship Bottom.  My sister gave me a gift certificate for my birthday back in April, and I finally got to use it on something I really don’t need: more plugs!  Thanks ANo!  Maybe she’ll bring me better luck next time; that is if spending a weekday on the beach on a 50 degree December day can be considered bad luck.

October 26, 2015 - A Skunk on a Very Crowded Tully

At least the scenery and the weather were nice.

I slept terribly on Sunday night after a stressful three or more weeks of house guest and funerals and work, so I decided to take a mental health day and hit the Delayed Harvest section of the Tulpehocken Creek near Reading.  I took my time in the morning, having an extra cup of coffee and watching a little Colbert on the DVR.  The ride out was pleasant enough.  The leaves were at their peek out by Morgantown, PA.

I know the Tully is popular, but, man, there were a lot of dudes fishing on a Monday!  There were four or more cars at every lot, so I just found a spot and hoped for the best.  I am sure I fished “used water” all morning, and I came up with a goose egg, the second skunk of the season.  I only saw one fish caught in the 2 or 3 hours I was there, although there were some sporadic hatches and at least one fish rising.

Second skunk of the year...

I got home early and enjoyed the rare treat of a nap.  I am hoping the striped bass season kicks off soon, as I have finally had my fill of trout for a while.

October 25, 2015 – Kenny Lands a Big Girl in the Poconos

The net is 14 inches long!

Murphy's Law: bad shots of good fish.

Ken and I headed to the mighty Broadhead this morning and had a tough day that ended with a great moment for Ken.  

It was raining when Kenny arrived at my house around 5 AM, and it lightly rained all the way up, continuing to drizzle a bit for the first hour of fishing. The trace of rain didn’t help, as the water was about as low as I have seen it in a couple years (and last year was bad). 
I had not been out fishing in a month, so I definitely misjudged when the sunrise would happen (a bit over-eager too, I guess).  We made great time, and arrived streamside in total darkness, so I made the call to go to a diner that I haven’t been inside since I was a drunk 20 year old college student.  Good old Besecker’s is still alive, and even got a facelift in the form of a front dining room, but the original trolley car diner in the back is still exactly the same, with the same booths I sat in as a young buck.

After a little breakfast, we started out the morning fly fishing a section that usually receives a fall stocking, and there were some fish around, but with low, clear water, it was tough getting them to commit.  I got one rainbow on a prince dropper and battled a sucker or very sluggish trout for a minute on a pheasant tail beadhead in a deep pool.

This bow needs more to eat...

Ken had some action on spinning plugs, but they all seemed to come unbuttoned.  He finally brought one to hand drifting a hare’s ear under a float.

Another rainbow.

We got tired of no action and no signs of life, so we left for a section of the creek that we fished earlier in the summer with some success.  I also did well with the fly rod another morning on this same stretch, so we figured it had to be better than where we were.  After a short drive and some water and snacks, we walked into a favorite stretch of the creek. 

Late fall on the( not so ) mighty Brodhead.

As evidenced by Ken’s healthy brown above, there are wild fish present, and the PFBC also stocks the mile long stretch with fingerlings because access is limited but habitat is great.  I decided to spin fish this stretch too, so Ken and I could fish closer together.  Ironically, I was too far away to help him land or photograph his nice catch.  So that plan really didn’t work out.  I got one pretty wild brown on a brown trout patterned CD 5, and I moved a couple other fish.  I missed the same rainbow twice in a shallow riffle, but I was pretty tired and hot by that point in the day.

Eating his future young?  I managed a pretty wild one on the CD 5.

Our trying morning didn’t seem to affect Kenny, as he caught the biggest trout of his life and a wild one to boot!  After throwing 10 different lures throughout the day (Kenny's usual MO), the piggy hit the tried and true Rapala plug.  He held it up for me and took the bad pictures above.  I estimate the fish was a good 18 inches, fat and healthy.  Ken is beating himself up for bad photography, but that’s Murphy’s Law.  The biggest trout I ever caught, a legit 28 inches, lives only in my memory, and as recently as this spring I botched the hero shot on a big wild brown.

Today was a tough but memorable day, but I was glad to be fishing again this fall.  I am feeling one of those “sick days” coming on this week…