In my quest to try a bunch of new waters this year, I
chose the FFO section of Ridley Creek in the State Park this morning. I had to go to work by 1:30 PM, and I
volunteered to drop the boy off at the bus stop at 8:30 AM, so I only had a
couple potential hours of fishing. Being only 30 minutes away, and all highway
driving to boot, Ridley fit the bill.
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| Strollers, joggers, action slacks. |
I arrived
about 9:30 AM to a mob a cars in the lot and shiny new No Parking signs all
along the roadside pull-offs, but the crowd was comprised of moms with
strollers, retired dudes in action slacks, older ladies of leisure, and the
assorted joggers. I only saw two other
fishermen, despite barely being able to find a parking spot. Once I did park the Subaru, I suited up and
set my alarm for 11:30 AM, giving myself 2 hours to make my mark on a new piece of
water.
Ridley is fairly picturesque but rather tiny, or pretty tiny,
and also pretty shallow as we approach the month of May. Perhaps it looks “troutier” when its banks
are full. However, I am always baffled
at how no TU or anglers club has thought to adopt my lovely home waters of the “mighty”
Wissahickon, when so many spots that are barely trout streams get so much love
is SEPA. I wish I had the time… Anyway, I saw one guy fishing above the
bridge and a couple risers in the flats below him. I gave him space and started below the bridge
and quickly had a bluegill hit my pheasant tail nymph. To cover my bases, I started out throwing a
hares ear and a pt in tandem, no beadheads, just a #4 shot above the top fly. I had found parking at the upper limit of the
FFO stretch, not the lower, so I had to work downstream not upstream, not my
favorite approach, but it all worked out fine in the end.
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| Some nice water here and there. |
Looking downstream, I saw a nice looking spot that appeared
like it might hold more water and definitely had more current. I stepped
out of the creek, gently approached down the bank toward the hole, and took a
peek. It looked very promising, the kind
of water I like to fish: a deeper, bankside run with a good, deep seam between
me and the bank. I placed my first cast
so it would glide slowly through that seam, and the indicator took a dive. I had hooked a mini freight train. This big rainbow jumped 4 times and nearly
made a successful run through the riffles to the next hole above me, his back coming out of the shallow water and all. I didn't have much
stopping power, as I was throwing my new toy, a 8’3” 3 wt rod, but I got him
tamed and tried my first attempt at landing him without a net (note to self:
bring a net). As I fumbled prematurely
for my phone to get it ready for a hero shot, he popped off right at my feet. He didn’t break off, he just got loose. Heartbreaker.
Bring a net, man.
I usually don’t let these things bother me long and,
within 5 minutes, I had fully recovered and was happily surprised by a couple nice brook
trout, in almost back to back drifts. Both ate the pheasant tail in the same deep seam.
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| Brook trout without driving to the Poconos. |
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| Another who liked the pheasant tail. |
After a while, I moved down to the next run and hooked a decent rainbow
that I did not harass with the camera. The creek got shallow for a while, ending at a slow deep
bend with down trees. It certainly
looked like brook trout water, but I brought nothing but creek chubs to hand,
until I reach the end of this long bend.
Before I got to the next set of riffles, I tied on a tungsten bead
caddis nymph and plumbed the depths for a couple more brook trout.
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| One on the caddis beadhead in a deep hole |
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| Another with the caddis in his top jaw. |
As I released the second fish in this hole, the alarm
went off on my phone, so I started back upstream. I had to give heartbreak hole one last shot
before I left. I tied on a jigged hares ear beadhead to get deeper. Karma was with me because
on the very first well-placed cast into the seam, I hooked either the same fish
or his beefy cousin. No jumps this time,
but he took several good runs, and it took all my 3 wt rod could muster to keep
him out of the tree roots across the creek.
This was a one healthy formerly pellet-fed bruiser. I took my time and didn’t horse him, but I
also didn’t overplay him in case he was the same fish as before. After exchanging pleasantries with another
fisherman watching from the bank, who claimed the fish was a good 18 inches, I
finally got the big bow in some slower water to verify for myself. Learning my lesson from before, I dragged him
into a quiet spot, dropped my rod beside him, and reached for the camera. I took two quick shots hoping one would turn
out, and then I revived and released him.
Even after potentially having two battles with me, he shot back to his spot like a
rocket. One mean fish, yo.
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| A good, mean-spirited 18 + incher. |
I had silenced the snoozing alarm twice, so I quit on
this very high note and headed back to my parking spot. After texting a pic to a couple fishing
buddies, I headed home and even made it to work on time, tired and a little
dehydrated but very happy for such a successful morning on a new stream. Ridley might not be much to look at where I
was, but those fish put in the creek in March are doing well.
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