June 27, 2017 – A Lehigh River Tour with the Consummate Tom C.

Tom landing one of two he scared up on the dry fly after a brief rain shower.

Tom C and I have been trying to set up a day to fish for most of the spring.  I met him through the Paflyfish site, and he has read my blog for a while, as well.  He is 75 years young and fishes more than I do!  This week alone, he fished for fluke and trout and was heading up to meet a guide, YouTube’s own Jim Misiura (more on that below) on the Lackawanna River too!  Not even having met him in person, which I did for the first time today in a hotel parking lot, so we could wisely carpool a 12 hour fishing day, I could tell he was a well-read, intelligent, interesting man, who was also a bit sick with the fishing disease.  What’s not to like about the guy?

We met up near 476 to pick up the northbound lanes for the Poconos.  The plan was to fish the Lehigh River, but also just meet and talk and show each other some spots.  I have almost zero experience with anything on the river below Jim Thorpe, but Tom was shown around by some respected professionals and other Paflyfish guys, so he had over the last three years culled a massive river down to a few usually productive spots.  We didn’t meet until 8 AM, so we probably didn’t fish the first spot until after 10 AM, but the first stretch he shared with me was a great looking one.  The water was sporty, at the bottom of a long, long riffle, and it also had a deep run that hugged the far bank.  While I only hooked one fish here swinging a soft hackle at the end of my drift, I could tell that when it was on, as they say, it would be on.  The story of the day, actually, was that plenty of olives, midges, and even some stones and sulfurs were present, but not in enough abundance to start a party.

Hit the soft hackle pt on the swing.   An about average rainbow for the day.

After the first drop, Tom gave me a thorough tour of his favorite spots on the lower end of what I would consider the trout-friendly half of the river.  We didn’t even fish three of them, just shared stories and watched a couple distant risers before driving to the next.  After a tailgate-gourmet lunch (the guy cooks too!), it was my turn to lead a tour.  We took about a 50 minute ride upstream to an access point that I usually find productive.  The flows were perfect, and the water temps were 64 or 65 even at 5 PM after some sun, clouds, and even a shower or two, but the bugs at the next stop were also sparse.  Tom and I both hooked a couple early on, and I was deadly with the 8 inch smallmouth bass and 6 inch chubs (so I guess my Czech nymphing touch is working) but I managed to break off my largest fish of the afternoon trying to net him in water too fast to wade.  Tom scared up two solid rainbows on a dry fly, however.  As his fly had a bright, indicator post, neither one of us are sure if they wanted a sulfur or an olive, but who cares, really?  He caught two on the surface on a tough fishing day!  The picture that opens the post is Tom in action, by this point hand-lining one in for a quick release.  I took a few blind casts with the same pattern and a sulfur, but nothing came up to look or even take my dropper.

A keeper spot on a near-perfect weather day.

After spending some time at this first run and the tailout, I wanted to show Tom one more spot that was likely better-suited to dry fly fishing.  On the walk up, we saw no risers, and at this point in the day, Tom would have needed a rope or a burro to get out of the river bed in most of the “access” spots.  When we got to the head of the pool, Tom obliged me a solo trip down the steep rocks and roots “staircase” to the river while he rested at the top.  Like most of the day, it seems, I caught and long-distance released a couple fish at this spot without a photo, and then spent more than my share of allotted time trying to end with a decent fish pic.  No dice, but I take better photos when I am alone anyway, taking more time to record the experience.  Besides one 10 inch wild brown, the fish were all stocker rainbows in the 13 to 15 inch range, nothing spectacular, so it was better that I was in the moment and enjoying the company and, besides a short shower, the near-perfect weather more than the fishing.  I readily took the wheel on the ride home and, as a bonus, I got to hear Tom set up plans with Jim Misuira on the Bluetooth speakers.  If you have seen his fly fishing videos on YouTube, you would recognize at once the hard, NEPA accent.  Hopefully, it will not take me all summer to fish with Tom C again, and I pray he takes good notes of all Jim’s spots on the Lack!

June 23 and 25, 2017 – A Couple Destinations and a Couple Mornings of Meh… - Barnegat Bay Sods and the Wissahickon Creek

Chilly, damp sod banks in a south wind.

My parents have a rental on LBI for the better part of June and July this year and have so every year for a long time.  This place and I go way back.  Ward and I rented this same duplex with a couple other single white males (and at least two females, plus Ricky, who was a single Hispanic male, and prettier than the women) back in the day.  The family that owns the place became friends (they never raised the rent in 10 years!) and still let me rinse off and warm up after surf fishing throughout the year—so let’s say a couple clicks above just Christmas card friends, ones I try to see whenever I am on the island and have the time.  Before Pete got less mobile and sold his 19 foot Carolina Skiff, I used to take him and my dad out for fluke and weakfish a few times each summer, playing captain while the old heads talked politics, baseball,  and cursed out cabin cruisers throwing wakes that correlated with their bank accounts (or loan to debt ratios).  We caught a few fluke too, at least Joe and I did 😝

Skee ball: make it rain...

Pete is so kind that he used to just leave the keys in it so, in exchange for filets and tanks of gas, my Dad and/or I would avail ourselves of the boat throughout the summer, even when Pete was not around.  Pretty sweet set up, yeah?  I still enjoy talking to Pete and his wife, and so do Tami and Lukas.  Pete, Joe, and I will still rent a boat in Barnegat Bay later this month, I am sure, but this time I just took a walk on the sods with my dad, hoping for a few fluke.  After a day on the beach with the boy, plus an evening at the arcade, I was happy that the tide was suited to my relaxed attitude towards life this week.

Flotsam and jetsam Christmas tree 

With the storms popping up all over the region, and a hurricane staging, not to mention a steady south wind—the surf fisherman’s nemesis, as it creates upwelling and cools the water very quickly—I didn’t expect much.  I had one legit hit on a bucktail, and that was it.  I did better than Joe, who walked out and back on the sods with nary a tap.  The water had to be low 60’s, perhaps cooler, and besides some nearly microscopic spearing or bay anchovies, there was not much life present.  Still, it was a good walk with my old man on some of my favorite stretches of water on the island.  Let’s just call it a warm up for when the water, well, warms up again.

Mmm... chocolaty...

This morning I got up way too early, so after trying to get back to sleep for a half hour and ending up unsuccessful in that endeavor, I got dressed and fished the muddy Wissahickon.  The area got clobbered by storms, and the water table was already decent, but I was surprised how little the creek had fallen since I checked on it sometime Saturday afternoon.  Valley would have looked like any other day on Valley, but the larger freestoners in the area were obviously still pushing out water.  I only targeted two riffle/run spots that I figured would still hold fish, and for the first hour, I had my doubts, as I was only able to hook a few rock bass and little smallmouth swinging a streamer.  I turned to the streamer because the only love that my nymphs received was from sunfish when my casts landed in water too calm to hold trout.

A feisty male in borderline water temps.

Eventually, I gave up on the streamer and reapplied myself to the nymphs, high sticking right up in the white water.  I went back to basics with a pheasant tail and hare’s ear as the dropper.  There were actually a couple small, tan caddis moving around this morning, and a lot of midges, but the water clarity probably wasn’t going to allow anything too delicate.  At any rate, the basic combo did the trick, and I landed a nice male rainbow that jumped a couple times and made a few decent runs.  After a quick picture, I released him in good shape, but I was reminded to check the water temperature.  It felt chilly, but it was only 67 degrees at about 7 AM.  Unless it cools down this upcoming week, the party is about over.

Palomino through the polarized lens...

I had one more run that I wanted to fish before the dog swimmers and the rest of the park visitors started stirring, so I took a walk, hoping to stick one or two more before getting a coffee and heading back home.  When I fished this run a couple weeks ago, I had a thump in a shallow pocket that actually broke off my san juan dropper.  At the time, I thought it might have been a big bass (mind you, big here is 2 lbs).  I have hooked bigger bass on the creek that refused to take their noses out of the riffles, just bulldogged me until the 5 weight was bent in half trying to get them to make a move.  As I approached the run this morning, I saw the likely culprit, not a bass, but a big palomino that managed to escape capture, due in no small part to the perfect lair he has made his home.  I didn’t spook him, and even got him to take a look at my offerings twice, but in the process I hung up on the sunken debris he was suspended behind at least twice.  I discretely broke off the first two times and retied, but by the third, I said eff it and finally spooked him back under the boulder he must hide under the rest of the day.  Before I spooked him, I took a couple shots through the lens of my Costas, but you can probably predict how clear they came out.  Just in case you can’t, I will share the better of the two photos…. 

The san juan after the rain is good stuff.

Before I finally quit to go visit High Point Café for some good coffee, I did land another rainbow.  This one took the pink sj worm dropper.  He too was in good shape still, but unless the nights get cool again, I doubt I will have but one or two more trips on the Wissy for trout this year.  Maybe I will utilize a couple for cut bait or have Eric smoke them.  Actually, with all the run off from the streets, the creek smelled a tad petroleum-based this morning, so I will probably let the eagles and herons have them.  I hope this upcoming week improves on the weather and fishing front.  This week was sort of meh…

June 19, 2017 - Hot Soup! – Brodhead Creek

Spider will be happy.  A couple dark caddis and some small mayflies managed not to be washed away..

It was a bit sticky today, and I had second thoughts about fishing, but in the end I made the most of about 4.5 hours on the water, landing probably 10 fish, mostly Czech nymphing the riffles and runs of the summertime Brodhead.  For Father’s Day, I drank a few beers and ate good bad food at my brother’s house, so I was probably dehydrated and loaded with salt and did not sleep well as a result.  I was up at 2:30 AM this morning, a good 30 minutes before the alarm, so I took my time getting ready and driving to NEPA.  When I arrived at the first section of the creek that I wanted to fish, I had to wait out a short thunderstorm, but the rain held off again until 11 AM when I had to quit and hide from another downpour before driving home.  Tami was not feeling well, I learned about 10:30 AM when I checked my text messages, so I was trying to get home quickly, but the weather had different plans for me.

That haze was not on my camera lens... for once.

Even in a just a T-shirt and breathable waders, I was hot and pretty uncomfortable with the evaporating moisture everywhere, but the water was still plenty cold.  I started out the morning catching two small wild browns of about 10 inches, as I worked my way slowly through a favorite stretch of pocket water.  I missed one other fish in the first 45 minutes that gave the tungsten pheasant tail a good thump in a deep run, and I also saw a few small fish rising in some back eddies against the far bank, so I was hoping things would turn on a bit as the weather calmed down.  As luck would have it, my mind was not playing tricks on me when I thought I heard voices behind me earlier in the morning.  A couple wet-wading spinner fishermen jumped not too far ahead of me in a run that I had been saving.  For what, you say?  Exactly.  Wasting no more time, I returned the favor and jumped ahead of them so I could fish another usually productive run before the pocket water peters out.  

A couple wild brows in the 10 inch range and this guy, probably washed down from a club upstream.

Here I quickly battled what I was hoping to be a decent wild brownie, but when I brought him to the net, though awfully pretty, I think he was a holdover who escaped from upstream somewhere.  He still accounted for himself well, as did a decent rainbow that hit my caddis dropper on the swing and a bonus 13 inch brook trout, also a wanderer, unless the local TU is “supplementing” this stretch.

Why not a 13 inch brook trout too?  Where'd he come from?

I waded belly deep to avoid some posted property on the more convenient and safer side of the creek and made a few blind casts in a good, though quiet today, pool before jumping out and hoofing it up to another stretch of the creek that is not stocked.  The water was low, but normal low for this time of year, so the faster runs were plenty deep enough to hold fish and offer some cover.  I was a little disappointed to hook a nice rainbow here, hoping he was an equally nice wild brown, but he was a pretty fish and a sporty one too.  By this time, I saw Tami’s text and knew it was time to get home soon.  Before I spoke to her on the phone, I fished a big deep and braided run and dredged up more rainbows.  All three of my last fish of the morning were good rainbows, but one in particular was fat, strong, and colored up beautifully.  

A pretty bow.  Fish do get around by this time of year!

I almost made it back to my parking spot before the sky opened up again, almost.  I hurriedly undressed and packed up for the ride home, glad I snuck one in this morning but also glad for air conditioning.  Tami was a mess when I got home and didn’t get back to herself until 4 or 5 PM, so even though Kev wanted to do some storm chasing for big wild browns on Tuesday morning, I had to decline.  The boy spent all morning in the house nursing Mom, so I have to take him to the pool and/or a movie tomorrow, maybe even some ice cream.  Mom is probably dying for a good cup of coffee after a peaceful night’s sleep!  If I am up at 2:30 AM again, however, I have not ruled out storm chasing wild browns on Valley for a couple hours before the heat comes back.

A few nice ones to end the morning before getting poured on again.

Water is cold, but the air, not so much, although both were pretty wet...

June 14, 2017 - Rollerskates, a Drowned Rat, a Plastic Sled, a Basketball, and Wild Brown Trout – The Lackawanna River

A conservation success story in a populated and once environmentally ravaged area of the state.

I have only fished the Lackawanna River about three times, and twice it was for a short, curiosity trip.  I liked what I saw, obviously, in the water at least.  The last time I was here was about this time last year when I was returning down Rt. 81 from Canada, and I only spent an hour stretching my legs from a long drive and hooking a couple fish.  Today, I had an entire morning to do more exploring around Archbald, PA, and even though I was new to many of the runs I fished, I found some good trout and had fun.  Part of the fun was discovering all the ridiculous things than end up in an urban/suburban river.  Now, I am no snob.  Two of my favorite places to fish are the Bushkill in Easton and the Brodhead in Stroudsburg (not to mention the Wissahickon Creek in Philly), so I am no stranger to tent cities and swimming holes full of empties and shopping carts, but I can say that I have never witnessed a size twelve basketball shoe floating past me, as happened today.  One deep hole that I will target again this winter and early next spring with midges will forever be known to me as the rollerskate hole, due to some classic, old skool white pleather rollerskates—the pair still together, mind you—resting on a sandbar near the low waterfall at the pool’s head.  Random or modern art or ghosts?

B-ball/snow sled run.

I was up at 3:30 AM and on the road by 4:10, so even with a pit stop at the Hickory Run rest area, I was fishing by a little after 6 AM.  As I was suiting up, one other fly guy arrived, which turned out to be fine.  There is plenty of water and plenty of access via rails to trails path. Having limited experience with the river, it also confirmed that I had selected an area worth fishing.  We also were heading in different directions to start, and he was only putting in a couple hours, so an easy deal was reached.  So much for the cool off, though, as it was humid and hot to start, the change in the weather not making itself apparent until the light winds kicked up later in the day and the stickiness started to dissipate.  It did not take long to tag a decent fish of 14 inches while targeting the basketball/plastic sled riffle/run, not to be confused with the bloated dead rat behind the automotive shop stone current diverters run.

A good start to the morning.

The water temp was a good 64 degrees and had a stain to cover me a bit, but like most summer fish in wild waters, the trout were in the riffles and runs, which provide their own cover.  The fly guy in the morning said that rain events have been spiking the creek all summer, but we agreed that today’s conditions looked just about perfect.  After my first fish, I continued to work the riffles on my way to a deep run where I had scored fish on another visit. 

A good 17 incher too.

Even before I got to my destination, however, the slow, methodical working of the pockets with jigged pheasant tail and a caddis dropper paid off with a little 8 or 9 incher and probably my best fish of the day and the one that opens this post, an 18 inch jumper from a bankside run.  In some places, fish really only have stands of knotweed to use as shade, and this fish used them well, hanging close to a deep, shaded run close to the bank.  Somewhere on this riffle fishing, I also landed a good 16 or 17 incher on a weightless pheasant tail dropper. Good stuff, you know?

The wounded warrior.

Thankfully, the run I had in mind also produced another good fish of about 15 inches.  He had tangled with a bait fisherman or spinner by the looks of his wounded jaws, but despite being a little skinny, I think he will make it.  He didn’t fight like the 18 incher, but he was sporty in his own right and continued to dominate a prime location, perhaps not the prime location, which held nothing for me this time, but a desirable spot amongst his trout brethren, no doubt.  I managed another sporty 12 inch fish near this area too.

A productive and pretty run rimmed in knotweed.

I ended my uphill approach around 10 AM, coming up dry at a couple easily accessible plunge pools that looked fishy, and I walked back using neighborhood streets and part of the Lackawanna Heritage trail.  After a break to eat a little something and refill my water bottle, lose a layer of cloths, too, I hiked down the trail hoping to spot some more new spots.  Prospecting from the trail was tough this time of year, as the aforementioned knotweed (think bamboo) obscured most of the views.  Instead, I had to enter the stream where small paths had been broken, either by fishermen or dog swimming fans, but a couple did lead me to decent looking pocket water.  I also found the rollerskate hole during one of these excursions.  

The long, deep, placid hole below rollerskate falls

At a split in the river, I found a nice deep run where the currents converged behind an island.  Here I pulled two small wild browns, one only 6 inches long, the other 9 or 10 inches.  No big boys to cooperate, but it was getting close to high noon on a hot and sunny day.  Working upstream to a large plunge pool or low falls (rollerskate hole) I saw one small fish rise.  I got him to take a swipe at my nymphs, but no hook-up.  I did catch another 10 incher at the base of the plunge.  This was the kind of place that either holds big fish or gets hammered and/or poached, but I could see sneaking back in the winter to see what lives in the deep hole and run below the falls.  A nice hatch would probably reveal a lot more life here, I am sure.  Besides some small olives, maybe, and a random caddis, there was not much bug life and only the one rise that I witnessed.

Last good fish of the day chewing on Sam's jig hook pheasant tail. the perfect high-stick nymphing tool.

Instead of taking to the trail again, I stumbled down a long riffle, testing some pockets along the way, but eyeing the pool at the bottom of the fast water.  The riffle ended at a slight bend, plunging into a deep run under some low hanging trees.  The trees did not preclude some high stick nymphing, however.  They were just enough cover to make a trout feel secure, a good trout, the one on which I decided to end my morning on the Lackawanna River.  I believe I counted 8 fish, ranging from 6 inches to 18 inches, so the river seems to be doing well, as all reports claim.  The atmosphere is an acquired taste, especially since a two hour drive from my house can place me in some pristine and beautiful spots, but there is no denying that the river holds some gorgeous fish and is a conservation success story that is hopefully never undone.

Another shot of the first piggie of the day, a good 18 inches!

Another shot of the last fish of the day on a good day on some new water.

June 8 and 9, 2017 – More Encounters with the Forgotten Ones – Wissahickon Creek

Not hard to find them if you look in the right places!

I spent about 2 hours on Thursday and again today, hunting down the trout that have been left behind, all but forgotten, in the Wissy.  Thankfully, there are many of them.  While 90 degree days are coming, I hear, the water temperature both days was under 65, and it was plenty cool in the shade.  I worked up a sweat climbing out of the gorge at 3 PM today, in the peak of heat, but otherwise it was a comfortable day.  I had only one brown yesterday that avoided a photograph, probably embarrassed that he ate a pink san juan worm dropper, but I tangled with a lot of rainbows that had good fin regrowth and fought well in the fast water where they are mostly holding now.  A few can still be had in deeper holes, but riffles must be nearby and shade or cover.  Many of the bigger fish are gone, of course, but I still had half a dozen that were over 12 inches, so plenty fun on light tackle in moving water.

Almost all rainbows, but all of them looking good and fighting well in 63-65 degree water.

I fished two different, though connected, sections, encompassing about a mile of stream maybe, and I found fish in most of my favorite spots.  Think deep holes, braided holes with stone around and, likely, cool water seeps.  I had a few pleasant surprises in some shallow riffles, although surprise is a bit strong since I did cast there thinking the spot would hold fish, after all J The park is alive with hikers and dog walkers (on leash and not) but I was the only fisherman that I saw, just the way I like it.

Prince nymph did well in the fast water, but a couple took the SJ worm dropper too.

Besides maybe 4 fish that I dredged up with an indicator from a deeper, calmer hole, the majority took a prince nymph as the anchor fly or either an sj worm dropper or something pheasant tail-ish serving the same role on a Czech nymph rig with a single dropper.  The sunfish also like the prince in fast water if they can catch it.  Usually, the panfish hang in the slower seams, where the trout would have been months ago, so I can usually avoid catching all but the sportiest sunnies by casting where they are not holding and, therefore, targeting trout.  Makes sense, yeah?  

Pretty fish and nice surroundings, all very close to home.  Love the translucent fins already!

Besides midges, whose imitations would get eaten by every little thing in the creek, there is not a lot of bug life in the Wissy right now.  However, I did see some tan caddis, about size 12, dancing around with only the aforementioned sunfish taking note.  If the next heat wave doesn’t end the party, I may take one more shot with some terrestrials in the near future.  Only 3 trips this week, so I am slowing down, but they were all enjoyable for different reasons.

A few fatties left behind