June 29, 2016 - One Extreme to the Other - Valley Creek

Just shy of 20 inches of Valley Creek wild brown.  Wow, is all I can say.

Despite the bruiser of a male wild brown I am holding above, I had a rough start on Valley Creek this morning.  It was hot and humid, and even wet wading offered minor relief since fishing Valley effectively means wading as little as possible.  Fishing Valley is more like catching 9 innings of baseball or going to a really long Catholic mass, both rough on the knees.  My left arm, not the one with fisherman’s elbow, mind you, is still tingling from a run in with some nasty nettles (through the long sleeve shirt, no less).  So I have that going for me…  But I am not complaining... now.

A beautiful steamy sunrise

The water was a perfect 60 degrees, so there was fog coming off early on top of the stain from a couple thunderstorms overnight.  I just couldn’t find the fly to make them eat.  To add insult to injury, every time I put on my cheaters to tie another fly on, I had to race against them fogging up.  My Costas were just as bad.  A romantic soft focus is great for telenovelas but not fishing.  The good thing about Valley is that it clears up very quickly, though.  The visibility was almost back to normal by the time I left, and I did end up catching three fish, two typical Valley browns, and one huge one, one of the biggest wild fish I have caught in recent memory, especially in a creek no wider than my humble driveway at home.

What they usually look like on Valley!

After many combinations, I coaxed two small fish to hit a size 20 brassie in one of the few deep holes left, but I felt like I needed to get down to the bottom even more quickly.  The only issue with that was the amount of weed and grass growing in a spring creek at the height of the summer.  Adding shot, deleting shot, changing tippet to fluorocarbon, dry dropper, a small streamer, and so on, and so on.  I finally decided to give them something completely different (No, not an SJ worm, though I did try that too!) and tie on one of Sam’s caddis larvae as the anchor fly of my two nymph set up.  With 6x tippet it would get down and maybe hang up in the roots and grass, but it would be in the strike zone quickly.  It was a good call, one of my few good ones of the day. 

Shot number two.

When I set the hook, I knew I was in for something special.  I could see this hooked jawed brute trying to get under the far bank’s tree roots and then trying to butt his head into some downstream hang-ups.  I was happy I had a net with me, but I still expected tragedy on 6x after the morning I had had so far.  Needless to say I was psyched when I got the net under him.  He was likely an old specimen based on the hooked jaw, the big teeth, and the unique colorization.  I kept him in the net, set the timer, and got two self-fishes before letting him swim back to his lair in good shape.  Then I started the group text to all my fishing buds working today!  There was no topping this fish today, so I started back to the 'Ru before noon and made it to work for a couple hours, so I can save a day for later in the week, maybe Friday with young Kenny?

June 21, 2016 – Awww, the Baby Skuke… – A Good Day on the Little Schuylkill River DHALO section

Life is good in Schuylkill County.

A guy who posts a lot on PAFlyfish and works for the PFBC has been promoting the Little Schuylkill River because the commission feels like it is an underused resource, and a reader of this blog, Alex, sent me an email about a successful trip earlier this spring, so the creek has been on my list to check out for a while.  A 90 degree day with pop-up thunderstorms and very low water may not have been the day, but the spooky natural light early in the morning made for interesting photos.  Even swamped up and sweaty, I caught and moved a lot of fish too.  I will be back next year when conditions are better.

Early morning success on the streamer

Despite the trucks, it was an easy, quick ride out the Port Clinton and New Ringgold, PA area.  In the dark, the skies were lighting up all over, and the sunrise was ominous.  Of course, it didn’t rain until I found the upper end of the DHALO.  I just sat it out until the rain let up a bit, and then I went on a drive through the beautiful Hawk Mountain region in search of the lower limit of the special regs section.  By the time I parked, it was just overcast and humid.  The gages in Tamaqua the night before showed the river as very low, so I was happy for the jolt of stained water as I walked into the Baby Skuke.  There was also a railroad that followed the creek for a long stretch, which would make it easier to get back (and reach my fitness app’s goals for me again).

A healthy holdover fooled by the muddler.

It didn’t take long to hook a couple bows on a muddler minnow.  A lot of the creek between the holes and runs is flat and shallow, so the fish were easy to find and target.  They were under overhanging trees, in the fast riffles, in the log jams, and in the few deep holes.  The first 3 fish smacked the streamer on the swing, probably chasing it out from the bankside cover I was targeting.  It is always great to have early success on a new piece of water. Getting a visual on the pursuit and the streamer strikes is also fun!

Which way?  Both.

The water was not all that cold, about 68 degrees when I quit, a little cooler earlier in the day, and the rain in the morning probably had some influence one way or the other, but the fish were in good shape and quickly scooted back to cover when released.  Right above the bridge where I parked, the river takes a detour and forks around a rather large island.  I chose the right side for the first round, but I also had success going to the left after a second early afternoon break.  I landed five rainbows before I decided to take a morning rest.  It was hot and humid, so getting some water and food while I changed over to wet wading sounded really good.  Streamer fishing requires a lot of false casts and a bit more oomph to the stroke, so my fisherman’s elbow would thank me for this morning rest, too.

Brook trout on the plug.

Bow on the plug.

By the time I quit chucking a streamer, fish were getting wise in the higher sun, even with the stained water, and there was little bug activity.  There were few good nymphing holes either.  All signs were pointing to my ultralight spinning rod, a few plugs, and covering a lot of ground to find spots for the next time I visited the river (early in the spring!).  As a bonus, I caught a bunch of fish this way, lost just as many, and explored a lot more of the creek.  I even caught a brook trout and some other guest stars along the way.   

A fun surprise in a deep undercut bank.

I can honestly say that I have never caught a crappie on a trout stream before, and I now have the photographic evidence that it can happen.  I ran into an old timer fly fishing and chatted for a bit, leaving him to a great hole.  Most fly guys are not that friendly when they see someone throwing hard baits, but I could talk isonychia and Yellow Sally with him, so I guess I checked out….  I actually got some good info and made a mental note to hit the hole he was in on the way back down.  Before I saw him above me, however, I did land the brook trout, possibly wild, on the plug.

A good spot to try some other time,

I ran into only one other fisherman up near the upper limit, and I covered about ¾ of the DHALO.  I found some spots that would be great in the spring, and there were a couple stragglers and holdovers in those prime spots.  At one particularly good hole, where the current ran perpendicular right into an undercut bank, I pulled out a little bass and a healthy rainbow.  I did catch a couple browns along the way too.  Based on the size and brilliant colors of a few who shook off before a photo, there are wild ones in there, and a few I caught looked wild except for a clipped pectoral fin, so they are holding over a lot of years too.  I did not spook or turn any wild brown monsters, though.

A first for me.

I turned back after running into the dude on the upper end of the stretch, and I worked my way down to the great hole where I spoke to the old fly fisherman.  Above the hole was a fast and shaded riffle where I caught a nice bow on the way up, so I tied on a shallower running plug to try working the pockets.  Honestly, I have had it forever, and I have no clue who makes it.  With the Rapalas’ history of breaking (2 broke today alone, you Finnish bastards!) I always try new trout plugs.  Anyway, I did not catch any fish in the riffle on the plug, but I tossed it in the deep hole just for the heck of it.  I was planning to tie on a CD 5 and work deeper.  Well, I’ll be damned if I didn’t see an out-of-place shape giving chase.  It was not a bass or a trout, that was certain.  He wasn’t all that fast, either, missing multiple swipes at the plug until I slowed it down.  After a short fight, I lipped my first white black crappie caught on a trout stream.  I wonder if someone put him there with plans on stocking this honey hole for summer fishing?  Or maybe there is naturally a small population of warmwater fish in the creek?  Who knows?  I snapped a pic and set him free in case the latter was true.  The old timer must have torn the hole up before he left for the morning, because the crappie was the only fish willing to bite.

Like a completely different creek... but not.

After another rest, I tried the other fork of the creek with the plug.  It veered off so far that I thought maybe it was a tributary until it rejoined the main river at a spot I recognized.  I think there were some wild browns in this stretch, and the stockies looked great.  It was hot, and I was hotter, so a lot of the pictures look fogged up like the one below, even after editing the heck out of them.  This stretch had the characteristics of a little mountain freestoner, so I switched to a tiny Rapala CD 1, which only has one set of trebles in the back and wouldn’t drag the shallow bottom.

Swamp-shots....

I guess I was finally getting tired because my hook setting percentage plummeted to below .500 on this final stretch.  I did land a few, and had a few shake off while handling them.  At least two were wild browns, I believe.  I think that the fact that I had to do the trout equivalent of the musky figure eight to get a couple fish to commit to the plug also contributed to so many shaking off the small trebles on a short line.  It was still action-packed and fun, like fishing an entirely different stream.

Even the stockies were pretty fish.

I probably landed 15 trout of all shapes and sizes, though nothing over 12 or 13 inches, and I bet I had just as many come off after short battles on short-line, last minute strikes.  With more water, I know the creek would produce even more fish.  The Little Skuke will be a fun one to add to my list to visit each year.  It was easy wading, so I made a note that this would be a good one for my old man too.  The guy I saw in the morning had to be 80 or older, so young Joey would be able to cover a lot of ground with me in the stream and on the rails.

Mmm... meat....

I ended the day with a trip to Cabela’s, but I only picked up a few things, resisting the urge to buy 12 items in the bargain cave, including a dirt cheap pair of felt/studded wading boots.  I just returned a pair of LL Bean boots and used the credit for a pair of Korkers boots with sticky rubber for walking and studs for the mighty Lehigh and Brodhead (and hopefully Penns this year!).  I did pick up some more Dynamic Lures HD Trout in hopes that I can break my Rapala dependence.  I had two Countdowns break at the lip today, and one of them was purchased this week!  I am going to fill out another return form and see what happens.  If they get enough of the plugs—now selling for close to 8 bucks at Cabela’s—back, maybe they will update the materials.  I also picked up a “blade”.  I have seen videos of Australian and European trout guys using metal blades instead of plugs and spinners.  I may give it a shot this summer.  I owe young Kenny a trip to NEPA, and maybe even THess and I will get out when he’s on vacation in a couple weeks.  

Blade?

Fluke  fishing should be happening now, and if not then shortly, so I was happy to find the new Uncle Josh saltwater “Meat” too.  They are pork minnows and, if Kenny’s experience with drop shotting the leeches in Canada is any indication, they should be nearly indestructible to fluke, who love to eat Gulp tails.  He had to cut them off the drop shot hooks, so I think it should be no contest with fluke, provided they like the scent.  I will post the results of my experiment when it happens….  I just have to stop trout fishing long enough to fish for another species this year.

June 15, 2016 – Decisions, Decisions – Pocono Trout Three Ways

Still chasing trout while the water temps remain healthy.  Love pocket water!

I took a legit vacation day yesterday in order to venture a little farther from home.  I spent Tuesday night weighing far too many options: Should I hit a wilderness stream with my 3 wt and a dry dropper, stalk a creek where trout from the Big D seek thermal refuge, try a new creek I have been meaning to try on the western edge of the Poconos, give an old favorite a good 6 hours with the fly rod, or should it be the spinning rod?  Or maybe I should hit the sod banks or the beach at the shore instead!?  Decisions, decisions… I ended up packing 4 rods in the ‘Ru, along with my sling pack, my lumbar pouch full of plugs, two different nets, two sets of wading boots, and a lot of water.  I got up at 3:20 AM and made a game day decision to fly fish a wild trout spot in the Poconos that was also near another stretch that got a fingerling stocking every couple years AND was near a little brook trout trickle or two, just in case.  It happens to be one of my favorite spots, so I guess I wanted fish, and maybe a good walk, more than exploration or a change of gears.  My indecision means it’s coming, though, even if Thursday rain is drawing me back to trout again!

Ended with one of each, plus bows, for the trout trifecta.

It was a bit chilly when I suited up in the morning, but with long sleeves and a buff, I was comfortable once I started walking.  I moved a bunch of deer and even an unknown visitor in a stand of knotweed as I took my first steps into the creek.  With the lack of rain and snow this year, the creek, usually a swift one, has been a bit more tame and manageable.  I took full advantage and started by wading out toward a couple nice riffle/runs along the far bank.  The water was cold (only 59 when I took a reading much later in the day) but I was content standing mid-river rolling a big jigged stone and a midge dropper in the seams.  As the sign states, there are wild browns and a small number of wild brookies in this stretch, but they don’t mention the bruiser rainbows that move up from the ATW below and the private areas above.  Well, after my indicator took a dive in a fast riffle, one of those little piggies took a leap on the end of my line.  I brought him to the net and held him up for a picture.  He was even bigger than the 16 incher I actually measured out later in the day.  What a great way to start the morning!

A thick visitor in the wild trout waters.  He thinks he's wild, which is good enough for me.

I wasn’t getting enough love on the stonefly, and with no rising fish, I wanted to cover some ground on my way to a favorite hole/eddy/huge-mid-current-boulder trifecta, so I tied on a conehead muddler and went to work.  Swinging the fly only got a half-hearted bump or two, but when I started snap-jigging and putting a lot of action on the streamer with the rod, things turned on.  I managed 5 more fish this way, including the elusive wild brook trout.  All the feeders in the area hold populations, so I am not surprised they are in here, although it is probably a seasonal thing.  I watched this gemmie and another small trout chase the muddler through the roiling current before he finally connected.  Fun stuff, I tell you, fun stuff.

Brook trout on the streamer!

I also landed another pretty rainbow below my favorite hole before finding a perfect rocky seat, which also made a great platform for the rare “self-fish” below.  I also missed a bunch of fish, so I decided to make another decision that would hopefully improve my hook up rate, especially as the sun got higher and more fish just followed until they caught site of this guy, even in my blue shirt against blue sky.  I took a minute to call home, which is always good luck.  Tami can’t imagine how many fish I have hooked and released with one hand while talking to her while afield and in situ.  I always do better after the call too.  I actually sat on this perfect stone throne and planned my next move while taking in the beautiful day.  Swallows were clicking away at caddis and small mayflies, but the fish wanted meat, it seemed.

The rare self-ish....

I walked back along the road to the parking spot, and got pretty hot pretty quickly.  At the Subaru, after a Cliff bar and a water refill, I made another mid-game decision to wet wade and toss the Rapala down in the ATW section about a mile away.  It felt good to lose the buff and the breathable waders, not to mention the net, and the walk back to the creek was much cooler this time, as a result.  After my feet hit the water, and I felt the shrinkage happen, I took a water temp: 59 degrees.  No wonder the fish were so active.  It was damn near perfect... for them.  It took me a while to get used to that chill, and I bet I pissed 8 times.  However, it was the right call.  On about the third cast, another big rainbow showed himself.  He just engulfed the plug and turned.  After a nice battle I got my hands on a 16 inch bruiser who was a wide body, probably from eating fingerlings for years.

A 16 incher on the plug, a bit smaller than the first bow of the morning too.  Crazy good day!

Convinced that my plan was going to work, I climbed up onto the rails and took my hike downstream.  My phone’s fitness app and my wife would be proud that I was going to exceed my steps/fitness goal for the day.  I started hiking, resisting the urge to drop into the creek too soon.  I had a couple fantastic stretches of pocket water and one deep hole in mind, even if this entire stretch—in high water, a mile long riffle—all looks fishy. 

Fitness target met by 11 AM.

After a good swig of water, a handful of almonds, and a preemptive pee break, I slid down to the creek again, about a mile from the parking spot.  I received almost immediate confirmation that this plan was going to work when a decent rainbow took the plug right at my feet after a long pursuit through the riffles.

Bows liked the plug coming downstream at them.

This must be a year that they do a May stocking of fingerlings, unless the rainbows are having a successful breeding once in a while.  I did see evidence of redds upstream, and browns breed in the fall, so I wondered if these were made by rainbows, like the big ones I landed early in the morning.  At any rate, I caught a 4 inch rainbow that I delicately got back in the water as fast as I could.  At another pocket, I had a couple small fish chase and nip at the plug, and I assumed them were bows until I caught a little wild brown.  Encouragingly, I caught at least 3 year classes of wild browns, and probably 2 or more year classes' worth of rainbows that were stocked as fingerlings.

Had the year classes covered, including one smaller than this.

I kept moving, targeting active fish.  I only caught one rainbow as the plug swung below me, but fishing upstream with long casts was lights out.  Copoly casts a mile and has limited stretch, so I was nailing them right and left.  Bows in the current, browns in the pockets along the banks, all of them feisty.

A year older and feistier.

I had a least 15 more trout since I hung up the fly rod for the morning.  I was having a ball, laughing maniacally to myself like I have heard Kenny do when he thinks no one can hear him.  I lost two plugs in lieu of disrupting the hole or taking a bath in cold water, but I didn’t care because I had at least 5 black and silver CD5s and they were working like they are supposed to work.

A healthy stream-reared (not bred) rainbow.

I promised to be home in the early afternoon and be ready for a trip to the pool with the family by 3 PM, so I quit a little after 12 noon and double-timed my hike back to the parking spot.  After one stop in the Lehigh Valley to look at replacement wading boots—my LL Beans are starting to come apart at the sole, and will soon be replaced at no charge—I made it home in time to change and grab a quick snack.  Poolside with a sandwich and a beer, I started uploading and editing photos between dragging a boy around the pool and skipping a Dude Perfect Nerf around.  Needless to say, I slept well last night.  I have to admit, I was sad I had to come to work today as I listened to the rain fall, but I made a series of good decisions yesterday, so I doubt today could have been much better!  Nymph, streamer, and plug: maybe four ways with the dry thrown in too? Next time, yo, next time...

Another quality brown ate the plug.

A dropped fish on the timer salvaged for an interesting shot???