A Quick After-Dinner Trip – Wissahickon Creek – 4/19/15

The bald eagle continues to elude my camera.

I had tentative plans this afternoon with my boy Bucci and his 10 year old son David.  Bucci wanted me to help put them on a good spot and teach them to catch some trout.  I totally understand.  There is nothing worse than trying to get a kid interested in fishing, especially when he or she wants to graduate beyond sunfish at the local pond, and then not being able to deliver the goods.  I think fickle trout ruined fishing for my two younger brothers while we were all very young (even though it was Mike who had the first certified catch of a rainbow in the shadow of the Bells Mill Bridge).  While my dad and I, who learned to fish together when I was around 8 years old and he a 30 year old archer/hunter who spent hours in the woods but never on streams, found the challenge rewarding and eventually figured it out, trout fishing can be frustrating, especially while guys all around you catch fish and you catch snags and overhanging tree branches.

Well, Bucci and son had to cancel due to unforeseen circumstances, but I guess the gesture carried some cosmic weight, at least with my wife, who said, “You should still go by yourself.  You like that, and you fished all day with the boys yesterday,” or something like that.  You don’t have to fire the starting pistol twice for me—I was out of the blocks and in the garage putting on waders within 5 minutes.  I only had about two hours of daylight, so it had to be the Wissy again…  Actually, I had a few spots in mind that I had not fished yet this spring, so I quickly loaded up and headed to the creek, just happy to be fishing anywhere today.  After yesterday’s skunk, I needed a night to reset the fishing mojo.

Unlike yesterday, which was 80 and sunny, today was a bit more normal for April, and it was even a little overcast.  The crowds were thin because it was dinner time and a Sunday night, so I easily found an open hole.  I figured the poor fish had been hammered all weekend and would probably be skittish, so I was fishing a copper john with a size 18 zebra midge dropper.  Surprisingly, the first fish took the copper john without being shy.  

Ate the copper john.

A little Wissy smallmouth bass.

I picked up a couple more in short order, and then caught my first Wissy smallmouth of the year, also on the copper john.

The only love the zebra midge got was from the two bluegills I landed.

The bluegills are starting to wake up too.

I had another favorite hole that I wanted to fish, and the daylight was beginning to fade, so I quickly made my way down to the spot, only stopping at one other nice run.  The fish are spreading out on their own, as evidenced by me catching two more in pocket water and runs like in the shot below, spots the buckets rarely reach.  One nice fish surprised me with a violent, flashing take in fast water, and I snapped off the copper john and the dropper on a less than delicate hook set.

Fish are spreading out and ending up in spots one might expect them to be holding.

I always love catching fish in a spot where a “real” trout would be, and I often fish these spots for the fun of it.  Occasionally, I am surprised by a trout or two, but more often than not, smallmouth bass or rock bass make the stops worthwhile. 

I have been seeing a Bald Eagle on this stretch of the Wissy for a couple years now, and he was back today.  He keeps avoiding my camera, though!  I almost had a shot of him sitting in a tree tonight, but I stumbled while walking backward to get him in the frame, and he spooked.  The best I could do was a picture of him flying away.  I am sure my birding friends can confirm that it’s an eagle from the picture above.  I remember my buddy Tango pointing at silhouettes hovering above the Delaware Memorial Bridge and saying, “See those birds; they’re Bald Eagles,” and I got closer than that tonight!

Daylight was fading as I got to my final destination of the night, and I had to squint and pray in order to hit the eyelet of a size 16 prince nymph that had some nifty foil wings (more for me to see than the trout).  I caught two more decent bows, for a total of 7 trout for the night, before I could no longer see my indicator, and the lights of Forbidden Drive were coming on.  Tonight was a fun adventure close to home, an early birthday present from my lovely wife, and a good way to reset the trout meter after such a mental beating yesterday.

Too dark?  Use flash...