February 29, 2016 – A Leap Day Native Brook Trout Adventure

Change of plans: a small mountain freestone creek.

I woke this morning kind of out of it.  I was sore from taking most of a small tree down on Sunday.  It was damaged in a storm a few years ago, but we really just wanted more sun for my wife’s garden.  Up and down the ladder, working a chainsaw above my head, chopping up smaller branches on the ground:  everything hurt, as a result.  I think I was up from 4 to 5 AM at one point and turned off the alarm so I could sleep in a bit, but my wife woke me up from a deep sleep at about 7:30 AM, worried about me being late for work.  I was just tired and sore, so I took an actual sick day, not my usual “sick day,” although one could argue that it did indeed become the latter.

A beautiful little native trout.

After I took the boy to the bus stop, I took a too-brief nap, but it did make me feel a lot better.  I actually considered working on the tree again before I decided to let it wait and go fishing.  I wanted to take advantage of the extra day in February and fish a spot that would be off limits come March 1.  While special regulation creeks are open to fishing year-round, the regular Approved Waters close from March 1 to Opening Day.  Sadly, the creek I had in mind is covered under that law even though it does hold wild browns and hold-over bows that I figured would be active after a few days of mild weather.  It was today or April 16 and the Opening Day crowds.  

Like cold water covered steps.

As I was just about finished my 90 minute drive, I decided on a whim to do something completely different.  Not far above my original destination is a tiny gem of a freestoner that I have not fished in a few years.  It holds wild brookies, and with all the moss and cascades and hemlocks and deer and even a flushed-out grouse one time, it feels a bit like a Garden of Eden.  I didn’t have the right rod. An 8’6”, native brook trout, and a forest freestone creek don’t make a great combination, but I made due.  It’s a good steep climb, too, like a cold water covered staircase at times.  An adventure, basically, and a Leap Day that registered nearly 60 degrees deserved an adventure. Joe Humphreys would have been proud of the number of bow and arrow casts I had to make.

Hungry little guy.

I drove through some rain on my way north, and as I suited up, clouds gathered, but besides a drop or two, the skies never opened up.  The sun peeked out a few times too.  I tied a barbless caddis nymph on my 4 wt since some of the fish in this creek are ravenous 4 inchers that I want to catch when they’re 8 inchers, and I started hoofing it up the stairs.  When I paused at one pocket to get the kinks out, I hooked a small fish and took a water temperature reading: a balmy 38.  I stopped at a few other pockets along the way, but the destination I had in mind was a long, yard deep pool that rests by a swampy spring on one of the few level plateaus.  If I eventually didn’t take the barbless fly off my leader, however, there may not have been fish pictures today.  With no net, which would only get stuck on every branch and log on my way, I was having a hard time bringing the first 3 or 4 fish to hand.  Though there were no risers, a small stone fly landed on my sleeve at one point, so I switched to a small black and olive nymph, this one with a barb.  As I reached the pool that I had climbed to fish, I was happy to bring a better brook trout to hand.  Better here, on a tiny, rather infertile freestoner means 8 inches, of course.  I may have landed a 12-incher here once about 5 years ago, but not today.

A better fish, perhaps the best of the day.

Despite my sore body, I worked up a sweat and spent a lot of time creeping around on my knees so as not to spook the fish in skinny water without the aid of any leaf cover.  But I was having a lot of fun.  This was how I began trout fishing with the fly rod a long time ago, sneaking around chasing wild brook trout in beautiful places in the mountains. 

Or was this the better one?

The spot I thought would be the honey hole proved to be.  On one knee behind a tree, I took pains to remain concealed and was rewarded with sor(er) knees and about 5 more fish coming from the head of this deep pool, to end the day with 8 or 9 fish.  I think I only had room to make about 3 traditional casts, so at least I didn’t further stress my poor shoulders and wrists.  All in all, a memorable, good fishing/sick day.

February 24, 2016 – Berks County Wild Browns in a Short Window between the Storms

I put my phone's photo timer to use today. A nicer fish on a bigger plug.

I had every intention of working this morning, not knowing how much or how little rain we had over night, and thinking that the rain from yesterday surely had spiked the gages. I often have the option to work later in the day, which is great for half-day excursions within an hour of home, but I have to choose my days wisely.  I thought this morning was one to save for another “rainy day,” but after a shower, I sat down at the laptop and checked the USGS web site and was happily surprised to see that stream flows looked great in several areas.  I quickly changed plans and loaded up the ‘Ru with water, a Cliff bar, a rain jacket, and both my fly rod and my spinning rod.  I have packed the fly rod at least three times this month and then after seeing the shape of the particular creek, went with the spinning rod.  Today was pretty much the same story when I arrived at my destination.  I chose a new creek in Berks County that has a reproducing population of wild brown trout.  I have driven past it before, done some research, and found parking via Google street view, so I’d basically done everything but fish it.  It was hard to tell with the rain what the creek would look like in May or June, but today it certainly looked fishy.  It is about 15-20 feet wide with characteristics of a freestone creek even though it is spring fed in spots.  I like fishing pocket water and riffle/pool/riffle/pool, so I was pleased with my choice.  I had about 3 hours to make something happen before heading to work.

Stained and running high, but 3 trout shot out from those logs and grabbed the plug.

Not knowing the creek at all, I was not surprised that the first 45 minutes were slow. I was trying to get a feel for where the fish would be, especially since it is still winter.  I did, however, miss a fish within 15 minutes of fishing, so at least I knew that there were trout in the creek, so I pressed on upstream.  

One of the little guys.

I finally pulled 3 fish in a row out of a downed tree, and one of them was a nice, healthy fish.  I was throwing a CD 5, something bigger to get their attention and possibly weed out the little guys.  I still hooked two under 8 inches, but 4 of the 6 fish I landed today were good, healthy trout on any creek on any day.  Within an hour, I could see that it must have been raining harder upstream from me, based on short bursts of debris washing down the creek. Visibility began to suffer too, even before I had to hide under a bridge during a particularly heavy downpour.  Before it got too bad, I did hook 3 more nice fish about 12 inches long on the CD 5.  

Gotta love hiding from the rain under a culvert and catching a fish.  Took him out in the light to show off the colors!

I only fished about 400 or 500 yards before seeing my first Posted signs, but most were well away from the creek itself, so on a less rainy day, I am thinking that I could stay in the creek bed and have access to a bit more water from this particular parking spot.  Today, staying in the water was a bit rougher, but getting out was bad too.  I noticed blood on my hand in one fish picture, no doubt from the many briers and thorns I had to maneuver around or through.

Thorn wound dripping blood on a decent brownie.

I didn’t have the time to drive around some more and explore, but I will next time.  By 1 PM the water was getting muddy, so I quit and headed home.  As I write this, my phone is going off about tornado watches and flash floods, but the drive home from work tonight was not all that bad, maybe because no one was on the roads!  I am glad I had a rather productive 3 hour window and success at a new creek.  With all this rain, it may be a few days before that window opens again.

February 17, 2016 – More Warm Winter Wild Browns on the Spinning Rod

A plump 14" wild brown with a Dynamic Lures HD Trout in his mouth.

Despite some cold days and snow, this has been a very wet and warm winter, two things that have made the trout fishing very productive and enjoyable—most of the time.  I am still wary and wiser from my fiasco of a trip earlier this month!  Mid-February already: I can’t believe that the FFO and DHALO stretches of creeks will be open for business with a fresh load of hatchery trout in a matter of weeks.  For the time being, I am enjoying the solitude of the limestone creeks within an hour of my house.  With the early blue winged olives will return the hibernating fly fisherman (myself included), but today I had a SEPA limestone trickle all to myself with great results.  In a matter of two hours, I had at least 8 good wild fish, the smallest measuring just over 10 inches.  At least 3 were over 13 inches and fat.  

Just high enough and stained enough to make for a good day for the spinning rod.

The area had about an inch of rain on Tuesday, but the gages looked great in the morning.  When I arrive about 9:45 AM, the creek was still muddy in the deep holes, but there was enough visibility for the fish to see my lures, obviously, and enough flow and stain to make my work a little easier.  I knew I could catch a mess of little fish throwing magnets or a CD 1, so I decided to try and fish a bigger lure for bigger trout, even if that meant fewer fish to hand.  The conditions today were perfect to lure some of the big guys and gals out from under the banks and roots.  The air temp was about 41 degrees when I started, and it may have gotten to a cloudy 45 before the front passed through and it got windy and sunny.  The water temp was about 46 degrees, even with the snow melt this week.

Another well-fed fish.

Tired of being a slave to the Rapala CD3, I started throwing a Dynamic Lures trout plug.  They are a suspending bait, so despite the size, they work well in shallower water.  I doubted my choice when I didn’t catch a fish for a good ¼ mile or more of prime water, but the first fish I caught was a good one, especially for a creek that is no more than 15 feet wide in most sections, so I stuck with it.  At least 5 of the 8 fish today, and all of the bigger ones, took the Dynamic Lures plug.  Did I mention they are considerably cheaper than the Rapala CD 3 plugs too?

I was so excited to bring this one to hand, I guess I dropped my glasses ...

I had some success holding the plug in prime pockets and undercut banks, and I even got one fish working it like a jerk bait, but the majority came while working the plug downstream, just like I fish a Rapala 90% of the time.  Despite Kenny thinking I was torturing him while he was hard at work hanging cabinets somewhere in North Philly, I was actually so happy to catch fish consistently on something other than a CD1 or CD3, that I had to text him a couple pictures of nice trout with Dynamic Lures hanging out of their mouths.  He has every right to hate me, of course, but it was he who suggested the plug a couple years ago and he who gave me a couple to try.  I have caught fish on them before, but I am so confident in the effectiveness (despite despising the crappy manufacturing) of the CD 3 that I had never stuck with the new plugs long enough to give them a fair shot under the right conditions.

Snag city.

I also enjoyed throwing copolymer line this morning.  I think I am a believer.  It is limp and has a bit less stretch.  I believe it may be a hair stronger than mono or fluorocarbon too, as I retrieved a few more snagged plugs than usual.  Even in high water, the better fish tend to stay close to cover, so snags are part of the experience.  As a bonus, none of the Dynamic Lures ended up with broken lips from snags and bumping rocks the way so many Rapalas do.  I hope that I can continue to have future success with both the plugs and the line.

I didn’t beat myself up, putting just 2 productive hours in before heading to work late, so I have learned from my previous errors this month, I hope.  The weekend is supposed to be warm, but I am pretty booked up with family plans.  I do hope I can get another couple of trips in this month, however.  It has been a fun fishing winter, especially after how frigid it was last year.  I know I owe Kenny a trip...

A brightly colored carnivore.

February 7, 2016 – Cursed from the Start

The only good thing that happened today.

This Super Bowl Sunday was one I would like to forget, and I didn't even watch the game.  In the interest of integrity, I vowed to myself when I started this blog that I would post all the trips, good and bad and, like today, really, really, really bad.  This was the first time I considered not posting anything.  I mean, who would know?  But I figured I may go back and read this and laugh someday.  Maybe?  If anything, it’s a reminder of how fishing and life don’t always jibe and the toll this obsession can take, not only on the fisherman, but also the innocent fishing widow and family.

Tasty, but wise before an early morning?

I don’t even know where to begin, so I will begin with Saturday night.  We were supposed to have Kat and Arch and their two boys over for some pizza and family game night.  Kat and Arch weren’t talking, so Arch stayed home, and I drank a bottle of Bitches Brew myself, feeling pretty good, but knowing I had planned to get up at 5:30 to get on the road to fish somewhere, probably an hour away.

Part of the plan became Kat and the boys sleeping over, which was fine, but it meant I would have to sneak out in the morning without coffee or excess noise or light.  Of course two 8 year olds and 5 year old weren’t going to go to sleep easily after running around all night, so around 9:30 PM the moms had to lay down the law.  After reading to the boys, I tried to go to sleep before 10 PM, but I too was still wired up, so I didn’t sleep well at all.

In the morning, I successfully sneaked out of the house without waking everyone and started rigging up in the garage. Despite the forecast for a high of 46 degrees, it was really cold, like 19 degrees outside my house, and I was traveling north?  Should I stay home, I wondered aloud, go to Valley or another place closer in case it wasn’t going to happen today?  When I took my 3 wt outfit from the case, I couldn’t find the end of the leader, which I had reeled up too far on the spool.  To avoid unnecessary frustration, I grabbed the 4 wt TFO BVK instead (Remember the picture above of the same rod resting in the snow). Perhaps I was tired or not functioning without coffee, but I also dropped my dropper fly at least three times on the garage floor and had a hell of a time finding it two out of three attempts, on my hands and knees with my hot cheater glasses on.  At size 20, probably ten can fit on a dime, but I don’t usually have so much trouble.  That was sign two or three that I should stay home.  I promised my wife that I would be home by 12:15 at the latest, so I had a short window, just to add to the improbability that this would end well.  Despite the signs, I powered on.

Dropped three times: another sign ignored.

I got on the road and stopped for coffee, hoping that would wake me up and set me straight.  I arrived at my destination without incident, but once I started fishing I had a hell of a time with tree branches and backcasts.  It was cold; the water was 35 degrees and icing up my guides for the first fishless hour.  I decided to find some sun, mostly for me, but also for the dormant fish.  In December, on this same creek, I had fish after fish in a couple deep wintering holes.  Today, I couldn’t buy a hit.  When I ran into another angler, he too was having no luck at all.  We ended up quitting at nearly the same time and talked briefly at the parking pull off.  As I undressed and put my pack and net and waders away, I put my rod on the roof of the ‘Ru (You know where this is going, right?).  It was before 11 AM, so I would make good on my promise to the wife if I hustled.  I was nearly 30 minutes into my drive home when I noticed that there was no fly rod tip dancing in the peripheral vision to my right.  When I could stop and pull over, I realized that I left it on the roof while talking to the other dude!  I turned back towards the creek in a panic,  a 250 dollar rod, 150 dollar reel, line, all things I couldn’t afford to replace any time soon…  

First of 2016, but it could have been worse???

As I made my way back on a two lane road, I got behind a truck, of course.  I began to realize that I would not make it home in time, so I pulled a U-turn and raced back towards home.  I have been late when I had no good excuse (one more cast, one more cast), so I didn’t call my wife, which in retrospect only made my late arrival worse.  She had to go to work, and was pulling the boy, reluctant and close to tears, out the door with her when I arrived home 30 minutes late.  My son chose to go to work with Mom over taking an hour drive with Dad to search for a needle in a haystack.  Justifiably, like my wife, he was also not happy with me.  

In the dog house with both of them, and still potentially out 500 bucks on a college administrator’s salary, I hopped in the car and headed back up—a long shot, but I had to try.  I was hoping the rod fell off behind the Subaru when I pulled into the road.  It was just as possible that the thing could have held on longer and been run over a dozen times somewhere further down the road.  In the meantime, my wife pulled her own U-turn and brought the boy back home to stay with me.  I, of course, was already gone.  Nothing was going right, nothing.  The only good thing was that, against all odds, the rod was sitting in the snow behind my parking spot by the creek, all in one piece, not a scratch.  Just to really drive home the point that today was not meant to be, however, a tractor trailer kicked up a stone and put a crack in my windshield too.  I don't remember which return trip it happened on, as I did the trip twice (felt like 6 times).

If you don’t see posts for a while, know that I am working on more important things, like patching up my relationships with my wife and son, so that I can continue to pursue this sport with the same passion while still being married.  Next time, I hope I will be wiser, communicate better, and pay attention to the signs telling me to make a U-turn and go back to bed!

February 4, 2016 – Cedar Creek Class “A” Stretch After (During??) the Floods

A-Town does parks and rec right, yo.

I only had a couple afternoon appointments at work today after a busy Monday through Wednesday, so I decided last night to fish somewhere for a couple hours if the water levels (and fog) cooperated.  The mild weather since Sunday or Monday was killing me!  Today was not the best morning to fish, after receiving over an inch of rain, but sometimes you have to work with what you are dealt.  

In my area, we received less rain than expected, but looking at the gages in the Lehigh Valley, I am not sure it was true for that region.  I wanted to fish somewhere new, or at least different, than my go-to winter creeks, so I gave Cedar a shot in the park, hoping that it was not too muddy or high.  The Little Lehigh was very high, and there were signs that Cedar had flooded at a few bends, but it was mostly confined to its banks, although muddy and running at a good clip, also cold from the snow melting in the surrounding fields.  I have to say, Allentown does parks and recreation right, even if it has its problems in other arenas.  Granted, it’s a little weird to hook a wild brown under a heavily traveled footbridge adjacent to a fountain, as I did today, but how lucky to have your choice of streams full of wild fish in such an urban setting.  Cedar is not on my list of new favorites, but I am glad I saw it and, who knows, I may return when other creeks are blown out by spring rains.

The prettier one of the two I brought to hand.

I brought the fly rod (wishful thinking) but I never took it out of the case.  Instead, I gave the Rapala a little workout on some nice new copolymer line care of Kenny.  I was impressed with how it performed.  It didn’t get as many twists, stretch was minimal, and I felt the fish that I managed to coax into hitting.  Kenny knows his gear and terminal tackle (and he has good hair, to boot). Besides mono, I have tried just about every other type of line for trout.  Fluorocarbon is good, but I think the copoly is limper with less memory.  I am hoping that it’s a good compromise.

I don’t think I had to get my boots wet all morning, fishing from the bank and hiding behind what little cover there was on the bank.  Having never been here before and not yet knowing the winter holes, I was happy to bring two wild browns with nice touches of yellow and orange to hand.  Both were between 10 and 11 inches, which I will take on a creek you can jump across.  I did drop a much better fish under the aforementioned footbridge.  He showed himself once and didn’t fully commit and, surprisingly, after resting him a bit, I got him to take a smaller CD 1.  I would have like to have gotten my hands on him, but I did enjoy a brief battle.  I know where he lives if I ever visit Cedar Creek again.