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| 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!
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| 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!
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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...
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| Another quality brown ate the plug. |
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| A dropped fish on the timer salvaged for an interesting shot??? |
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