May 1, 2017 – Don’t Stop Never Stopping – More Homework on the Wissahickon Creek

"Ever since I was born, I was dope....."

Sorry for the references to a pretty terrible movie, but that silly phrase came into my head this afternoon while I was further “honing my skills” on the local stockies.  It sounds silly to non-anglers, but I value the idea of never being content with my skills as an angler (and sometimes even as a person).  My wife is much better on the self-improvement front, but I think I get there through my own ways, and fishing is one of them.  It takes work:  Reading, research, asking questions (pestering Sam), spending money and time, when money and time is also what your family wants and needs from you.  And, yet, it is supposed to be, and is, a relaxing pastime and challenge and therapy and exercise and solitude and friendship and family all tied into one big, buggy looking package.  I lost years on the fly fishing game while pursuing other species, especially stripers in the surf, and I don’t regret that, but as I get older I am more and more drawn to the long rod again because it slows me down.  Like today, I can work a little, drink some coffee, read a few papers, then grab my pack, my rod, and my waders (soon, I won’t even need them) and be fishing in less than an hour.  When I target the creeks closer to home, like today, my destination is sometimes only 10 or 15 minutes away.  I don’t meditate out there or anything;  besides the odd nature photo op, I think only about fishing and that in itself is meditation.

Stopping to smell the snakes and mushrooms

When I trout fish with a plug and a spinning rod, I am moving, covering ground, looking for the aggressive ones, the big ones, but when I nymph or dry fly fish, I am camped out in a hundred yard stretch for hours sometimes, just trying to figure them out or just trying to catch every fish in that hole before moving on.  Sunday morning was a perfect example of the space I can get my head into these days.  People all around, some ALL UP in my grill, but I just did my thing and caught a couple dozen fish in less than 5 hours of fishing..

Meditation pool, minus the meditation, but with equal the medication.

Today, I took the 10 footer back to another stretch of my home waters close to home, and tagged another 15 or more in 2 or 3 hours of wading and fishing.  Many were from heavily fished holes, but my slow, deliberate approach worked and made the afternoon enjoyable.  They took caddis pupa, soft hackle pheasant tails, even a brassie midge in the 66 degree, stained water.  What better place to be on a hot day than waist deep in a (mildly) cold stream with spring popping everywhere (and even some eye candy jogging by once in a while)?  I cannot think of many better ones, though I could have done without all the tree pollen in the water and later in my sinus passages...  I am sure my buddies wonder if I ever work, but I worked hard to get to this place where much of my time is my own.  I worked this evening and Sunday evening and for 4 hours in the morning today before sneaking out for a quick one.  I need to invent a Fish-Bit that goes off when I need to get up from my desk and catch a few fish at Valley or the Wissy!  No, I think I have had that built in somewhere since I was 8 or 9 years old, perhaps even since I was born…

Happy to find a few browns.  This one took a midge, not the caddis or pheasant tail.

I found plenty of fish this afternoon, and I didn’t get pissed when I had to move for a rambunctious school group throwing rocks in the creek.  Hey, their teacher brought them to the woods!!!  How cool is that?  A few of the fish were acrobatic and feisty, and at least one was big and fat. I am feeling really confident with my 10 foot rod now too!  Honestly, I am not even sure the creek needs more fish dumped in tomorrow, but I will take them, and I will take my son down there later this week in the hopes that he catches a little of what I have.  It may become his relaxing pastime and challenge and therapy and exercise and solitude and friendship and family all tied into one big, buggy looking package someday after he’s caught every Pokemon, landed a job, snagged a worthy mate, netted his first big…  I think that’s all the fishing metaphors and other "deep thoughts" I have for this week....

The tree pollen hatch is in full effect, especially when it gets windy.