March 31, 2018 – A Short, Productive Walk on Opening Day – Wissahickon Creek

One of the nicest Opening Days in recent memory.

Thanks to Eric, I kept the Opening Day tradition alive and fished the Wissy this morning.  Without his excitement to get out, like my dad, I may have slept in this morning.  I am, what, 15 trout trips into my season already, and I did the Mentored Youth Day with Lukas, so I was content to sit it out. I am glad I did go, however.  We just took a leisurely walk down the street, literally, carrying our coffees, far too decked out in expensive gear to chase stockies. Unlike most Opening Days of late, though, we had sun, no rain, no ice, and a healthy crowd.  With the fly rods, I guess guys were giving us a wide berth, or just walking on by if they happened to stop at the this particular hole, because we had the place to ourselves until we gave it up a bit before 10 AM.  Before that, especially in the hour from 8 to 9 AM, we landed a bunch of fish, probably 15 in that first hour, and then another 3 to 5 a piece as it slowed down in the second hour.  No big fish, but we saw a couple and heard of a couple bait guys striking gold—a 26 inch palomino was caught and released above us.

The vintage stringer came out, so Eric could give some trout to Granny.

Throwing a variety of flies, we caught mostly average sized rainbows.  I landed one brown trout, and I don’t think Eric hooked or landed any, so that may bode well for next week's fishing trips.  I had most of my fish on a tungsten green weenie or the small pheasant tail I had on as a dropper.  Eric landed a bunch on the squirmy worm and a couple other nymphs.  Besides one fish that I landed with an indicator in a deep hole, just trying something different as the early bite turned into the late morning lull, we just tightline nymphed up and down the hole, the run that lead into it, and even the start of the tailout of the pool. 

Plenty of browns will be left after today!

Easter tomorrow, so I don’t know what the day holds before dinner at my parents’ house, but I will probably sneak out in Philly on Monday to see if I can find some of those more “discriminating” stocked browns.  Eric and I had a great hour of fishing, and a second good to mediocre hour, but it was still a fun morning, and I am glad I did not sleep in this opening day.  Heck, I may even take the boy over after dinner tonight, it's so warm and sunny out!

Eric going old school.  I stayed behind, not wanting to be seen with a fly fisherman carrying a stringer 👈👀👉

March 24, 2018 – Mentored My Youth – Wissahickon Creek

The boy's first trout of 2018 hit a barbless Rapala CD1.

After letting it warm up a bit, and having lunch at Wendy’s, the boy and I tried a couple spots on the Wissy today to mark the SEPA Mentored Youth Day.  The conditions were not perfect, especially for bank fishing, but we caught a couple stocked brownies tossing a Rapala with the barbs pinched down.  The water was a bit high and the ground saturated all around the park, so we had to hose off some muddy sneakers when we got home.  Dad almost wiped out a couple times trying to maneuver around in Converse One Stars.  The mud all around the banks was like brown ice!  We did put on boots after moving to a second spot, and the boots gave us a couple more options as far as getting around and finding a good dry spot from which to cast.

Scenes from Mentored Youth Day, 2018.

I did bring a fly rod rigged up with a green weenie and a small indicator, but in carrying two rods to the first spot, we twisted everything together, so after cutting and trying to untangle, I decided to just focus on the one rod, coaching the boy’s casts and retrieves with the ultralight spinning set up.  Both fish were in soft water close to the far bank, as expected, so eventually Dad helped deliver a couple casts to the prime spots to get some points on the board, but the boy did the rest, including helping with the release (and learning how to release a pair of closed hemostats).  We did see a handful of kids and adults out in the afternoon, and we saw more footprints where folks must have been out earlier, but we saw no abuses of the spirit of the day.  Perhaps if the water and weather conditions are better for the MY day for the rest of the state, we will make a trip with Mom to the mighty Brodhead.  All in all, we had a fun afternoon: lunch, treats, a couple hours of fishing and hiking and getting dirty, and a couple fish that were a decent size and chased a plug this early in the season.  Fish were caught, youth were mentored, and good times were had.

March 19, 2018 – A Hole in Two – Bushkill Creek

The BWOs were getting started, but it was too cold to wet wade, and I have sprung another leak...

I took a ride around 10 AM this morning to fish the Bushkill in Easton, trying to crack the late winter code.  It must be said that I love the creek, and I have caught some nice wild browns and holdover rainbows at other times of the year, including the trico hatch in August and a good fall streamer bite many years, but I often have a hard time with this challenging creek in the winter.  I know I am not alone, but I like a challenge, I guess.  I figured that blue-winged olives might wake up the fickle, pressured trout, but I worked really hard for one decent wild brown on a midge dropper above a stonefly, digging deep to find my one and only in about 3 hours of fishing  (and tearing a hole in my backup waders).

Still haven't cracked the winter code...

I was waist deep in a rather fast run, working hard, as I stated above, to get a good drift through a prime holding spot, one where I have moved a pig of a wild brown on at least one occasion.  I didn’t hook the pig, but I did catch one skinny 12 incher that escaped his photoshoot (afraid of taking another swim, I was).  I couldn’t dig another one out of this spot, and even though olives were pretty thick in the slick below one good stretch of pocket water, I had no risers and my pheasant tails were ignored below the surface too.  When I was close to having enough, instead of backtracking to the parking spot, I decided to billygoat upstream through the pocket water to a dam that allows an easier climb out and a shorter walk on city sidewalks to the Subaru.  Well, I must have gotten stabbed by a good thorn or rubbed up on a sharp rock because I felt the cold rush of a lot of water coming into my waders below the knee as I waded into position at what would become my final spot of the day.  Yep, I stuck a hole in two this winter, I guess, so no chasing afternoon risers for me this afternoon.  I am down to my dad’s loaners that barely fit, and a pair of flyweight hippers.  I gather I am in the market this week for a replacement for my backups.  At least the next Nor’easter will give me an excuse not to fish again this week as I pray for Simms and the USPS to expedite the return of my repaired primary waders?

March 18, 2018 – The Student Becomes the Master??? – Pickering Creek DHALO

I guess we barely waited for sunrise, but we did beat any potential crowds.

Eric took delivery of a 10 foot 4 weight fly rod this week, in hopes of upping his nymphing game, so he was itching to get out somewhere close this weekend.  He had a small window this morning, and so did I, actually, so we just headed over to the Pickering DHALO early for about 4 hours of fishing.  The place gets pounded, but he knows it pretty well, so it seemed like as good a place as any to put the long rod and the euro-nymphing set-up to a good test.  It was cold, about 27 degrees when he swung by my house to pick me up, but it was probably a zoo on the creek after lunch when it warmed up to 50 degrees, and we caught plenty of fish in the cold, anyway, so sometimes early morning is a good call on pressured creeks, regardless of weather. 

Success sans bobber!

In exchange for all of 10 or 15 minutes of nymphing instruction from the “master,” I did earn a Wawa breakfast sammie and the pleasure of watching the young bull hook a few fish on the new rod, sans indicator.  The dude can fish, and did his YouTube and internet research for months before buying the new rod, so it was not like I was teaching a novice or something.  I just eyed up his leader configuration, coached for a minute about line management, backseat drove him to fish a few prime winter drift lines, and maybe shouted a preemptive, “There’s one!” as he had four eyes on his sighter line to start, I suppose…  Even though I appreciated the tutelage of many over the years, I also have a thing about someone watching me fish over my shoulder, so I did not linger too long after establishing that he was doing enough correctly to catch more fish without me around to bother him.  I left him for a good while on his own to figure stuff out, well, on his own.  I started wandering downstream to a couple spots a little off the beaten path, and I landed two fish for the effort.  I was hoping to find another wild fish, but no dice today.  When we joined up again, we fished a few of the same holes together.  The irony of today is that I decided to fish my 9’ 4wt in case there were any hatches, and I definitely missed a few fish that I probably would have stuck with the rod I fish with 90% of the time now, my own 10’ 4wt.  

Some fat, healthy stocked bows, maybe 7 for me.

I bet I netted 6 or 7 after sticking more than that, however, most on the size 16 prince nymph I was using as a dropper.  Since the only bugs we saw were the little black stoneflies periodically taking to the air, this was not a surprise.  I also had a couple on a red brassie midge tied off the bend of my anchor fly (probably why I lost a couple fish after a short battle on size 20 barbless).  The fish are big, so that was fun.  The average was 14 inches, I bet, and a some fish were 16 inches or more and looked like they may have held over from a previous stocking, not the one last month.  

File under: things you don't see from the couch.

I am back to work this week, but classes often start slowly, so I am thinking about taking a little longer trip on Monday.  I am itching to sink a few big stoneflies in a couple Lehigh Valley creeks (I took a skunk on a short trip to an especially fickle one earlier this week!), especially after having such a good time on Fishing Creek last week.  Today was a successful trip for Eric, though, so I am glad I was there to help out a little and was able to sneak in a short weekend trip, which I consider a bonus most of the time.  Apparently, I am now giving Czech nymphing lessons on stockies if anyone is interested J

March 13, 2018 - Under the Weather, Under the Water, but Definitely Beating the Winter Fishing Over/Under – Fishing Creek and Spring Creek

Fishing Creek in late winter.

Since I am on spring break this week, I took another tour of Central PA with Sam on this unsettled day and, despite one minor (?) setback, had an exceptional 8 to10 hours of late winter nymphing.   I drove away from the latest in-progress Nor’easter, one with not quite the power of the last two, but I still had an interesting predawn trip in a wintery mix all the way to about Dauphin, PA.  The temperature hovered above freezing for most of the early morning drive (4 AM departure instead of 3 AM—thanks Daylight Savings Time!) but in higher elevations or raised roads and bridges I did feel the all-wheel-drive slip out of cruise control.  I even witnessed a couple spun-out cars on overpasses.  Thankfully, the conditions just got colder and dry as I climbed up to Lewistown and down into Happy Valley.  When I arrived at Sam’s house in 28 degrees and a stiff breeze, I kind of missed 35 and rain, honestly, but we just took our time making a plan and getting started, catching up on a recent trip he made to the White River to target early spring pigs with big streamers.

Not a bad start to the morning.

Sam was not feeling well, sick with a cold for a couple of days, but he was game for an adventure and, despite being a little slower and quieter than Sammy the Mayor of State College, he stayed out there with me for a lot of daylight, which I appreciated immensely, even more so in retrospect looking at the shots of the exceptional fish we caught in such beautiful surroundings.  We started out taking a snowy ride into the famed “Narrows” of Fishing Creek.  The creek was a little colored up and the valley itself still had a couple inches of snow, but in the high-20’s there was no danger of snow melt.  A great sign of things to come, I actually got bounced on my second or third lob of a tandem of stonefly and midge dropper.  Still a bit stiff and foggy from my long ride, I guess, I also missed another fish before I willed myself to wake up and concentrate.  Sam landed one in a perfect winter eddy, and I landed a couple pretty 12 inchers on the stonefly nymph before taking an unfortunate knee(s) in the creek, a creek probably 35 to 37 degrees, in a windy and 28 degree mountain valley.

Sam found them on the inside seams with consistency.

My Simms waders are out in Bozeman, MT being replaced or repaired under warranty, so I am in backups for a few more weeks.  I have been making due with my breathable bootfoots and some strap-on spikes, and I even borrowed a pair of stocking foots from my dad for this trip, but I decided to tempt fate (and avoid the unsightly look of “mangina,” as Dad’s waders were a snug medium) and just go with the bootfoots when I dressed at the Subaru this morning.  Besides this one potential fiasco, they were totally fine, but dammit they could have ruined the trip.  A log that rolled and freed itself in the current was the culprit, not a rock, and the damn thing made me do a double-dip because the current was pushing it under my feet.  It took two arms elbows deep to right the ship.  Sam was justly concerned about just how wet I had gotten, but I was able to finish out the run and catch some beautiful fish, including two really quality fish, the best of the day, before taking a break around 11 AM to crank the heat in the ‘Ru, change cloths, dry fleece gloves and sleeves, and eat something hot in town.  Layers of wet but warm wools and synthetics saved the morning.

A half a dozen nice fish, up to 17 inches and wide-bodied.

In a stylish but dry pair of stirrup-ed fleece wading pants now, I drove us back into the valley after lunch to give Fishing Creek another shot in another stretch of good water.  While the bite was not as strong as the first of the morning stop, we still landed a few more nice fish before deciding that we had hit a lull.  We caught a lot fish, a few more than a dozen between us, if I had to guess, and at least 5 were between 15 and 17 inches, so it really was a fantastic morning in spite of the inconvenient flirtation with hypothermia and all…

Another solid fish from Fishing Creek.

We checked out a couple other spots lower in the valley, but Sam was not loving the color of the water, and while blue-winged olives were sporadically coming off the water, nothing was taking notice.  That had not been the case for the last few days on Spring Creek, so Sam made the call to head closer to home and maybe even experience some dry fly fishing to end the trip.  When we arrived at Spring Creek, it was clear that BWO’s were out in force.  We had a snow squall or two, and while not as thick, the olives could have passed for mid-March flurries.  Sam targeted a few risers in some flatter water, while I changed out my flies, adding a small pheasant tail to my dropper tag, and worked the outsides and insides of some faster runs, sometimes working different sides of the same stretch of creek.

No not a hatch, but one of a couple snow squalls

Sam had some action on top, but when we met up again, fishing the edges of the shallower riffles was really effective. Even sick, with snow squalls and head congestion forcing a little vertigo (think snow globe), Sam can sneak a pair of nymphs under even the toughest targets, and he caught a bunch of fish that I may not have contended with at this stage of the game, perhaps even fresh and in good health.  I did alright too, though, adding another half a dozen fish to my already good total for the day.  The fish were on the larger side of my Spring Creek average, which is not huge, even though plenty of big fish do exist in there—we watched one about 17 from a bridge, suspended waiting for emerging olives.  My last fish of the day, the one where I said, “It’s almost 6 PM, and this has been a really good day, so let’s call this one good,” was probably 14 inches and all head and teeth.  

A beauty from Spring Creek, which was also fishing well.

All caffeined up and finally completely dry, I didn’t dally at Sam’s place.  After dropping him and his stuff off, so he could get some soup and some rest, hopefully, I got back in the Subaru and headed for home.  Following a much drier and quicker commute to SEPA (and the requisite Sheetz Shamwich) I was in bed by 10 PM.  After lugging around bootfoots (with strap-on spikes, too, mind you) for 10 hours, I know I will be sore by Wednesday afternoon or, if not, by Thursday when I get up, but it was well worth the trip once again.  Sam and his buddies are lucky to have so much water to choose from and such high concentrations of gorgeous wild fish.  Not to get all sappy, but I am also lucky to know a mitch who lives out there and is generous with his time and knowledge, all for the price of some beers and my charming conversational skills, and lucky to have a wife who indulges and accommodates my sickness on a weekday trip.

Pretty fish, damp angler, ill photographer.

March 9, 2018 – Wind, Cold Snow Melt, Suckers, Chubs, and Trout – Valley Creek

A couple 10 to 11 inchers, but mostly their smaller cousins and distant relatives.

Since the last snow storm, Valley, while cold, has been hovering around 40 to 45 CFS, which is good flow for the little creek.  Add a tinge of a stain, granted from snow melt not rain, and I had to give it a try today—even if my expectations were low.  Call it a winter fishing day in a season that started cold, but has been less than wintery most of the time.  It was nice to stalk around with midges and small pheasant tails in a snowy landscape in the bright sun, and I did land probably 10 trout, half of them very small, and some sizable chubs and suckers, who seemed less affected by the quick drop in water temp brought on by the melting remains of the Nor’easter.

Chub Life and micro-trout.

I actually started fishing Little Valley, hoping for more moderate temperatures, and in retrospect I should have stayed there a while longer, as the main stem was colder and less productive overall.  If the zebra midge and tiny pt were not working so well on the trout, I would have abandoned them for good.  I did try some bigger caddis pupae, and even a slowly pulsed streamer after I had my fill of tiny trout and chubs, but I could not get any takers--maybe one or two equally small fish on the caddis  The two best fish, each about 10 or 11 inches, came from the feeder creek on a zebra midge.  Unfortunately, the best fighting fish of the day was probably a sucker, followed by super chub.  Not a soul was out there, not even walking the paths, so it truly felt like a winter fishing trip.  Last year’s young of the year are still voracious, and they are getting bigger as a result, though not big enough yet!  I would have like to have landed a few more respectable ones, but such is Valley some days.  There are worse ways to spend 3 hours on a crisp March day, however.

Clouds and sun, wind, and even a flurry, but a taste of winter fishing before it's gone for good.

March 6, 2018 – Chasing Fresh Stockies with a Self-Imposed “No Bobber Rule” – Pickering Creek DHALO

Notice: Chasing stockies on the DHALO.

Several SEPA streams with special regulations got a fresh load of fish late last month and earlier in this one, so I was able to stay close to home today and catch over a dozen fresh stockies, some of them pushing 16 inches, at the Pickering Creek Delayed Harvest section.  The next Nor’easter is set to arrive tonight and last into Thursday, so even though I had some work to do this morning, I cut it short around 10 AM and took a ride.  I had the creek to myself for about 2.5 hours, but as I got closer to the popular holes as the day got warmer and the hour later, I eventually ran into a bunch of anglers: my signal to call it a day.  In about four hours of fishing, I landed close to 15 rainbows, a feisty white sucker, and even one little brown that may have been wild.  I tangled with a half a dozen more that got off tiny barbless flies after a short tussle on a short line.

A few 15 and 16 inch chunks in there.

I made a promise to myself to fish without an indicator today, even in flatter, quieter water where an indicator may have been effective.  I have a lot of confidence in my Czech nymphing in pocket water and runs with good, moving water and turbulence to cover my approach, but I am also lazy about changing rigs and digging for thingamabobbers when I am on the water, so I am looking to get more confident with the sighter line alone in other situations, maybe even “frog water” if I have too!  I had plenty of success all along the creek without the aid of the indicator, even at some distance from my rod tip (another skill I am still perfecting) so I may make that rule a thing when I fish for stocked trout—not a snob thing, just a challenge to myself to keep improving my game.  I also am catching more fish by feel alone, which is nice.  Sometimes fish bounce a rig hard enough to see a sighter line dip or pause, but sometimes the only indication is a slight tick, especially with lighter flies.

The only brown of the day, one with many signs pointing to stream-bred.

I wish I had taken a couple better pictures to help confirm, but I believe I even landed a wild brown in the creek today.  Besides having some telltale markings, even the blue dot near the eye, other things added up: he was in a faster run where black stoneflies were sporadically hatching; for a smaller trout, he fought better than many of the bigger rainbows (though not as good as the wild sucker); he was in an area that, while in the DHALO section, is not a pressured area because the water is shallower and swifter; and he was tight to a down tree.  If I can steel myself from ridicule ahead of time, I may post a picture on the fly fishing forum to get some corroboration.  I know the stream has some natural reproduction, but I don’t think much of it happens in this section.

A bigger holdover who survived a low water battle with a bird of prey?

It was a mild day, even though it took a while to warm up, and there were bugs around, some midges and a smattering of black stoneflies.  There was not enough happening on the surface to switch to dry fly fishing, though I did see a couple rises, but as these fish set up and start looking up, as some of the hold-over fish from the fall are likely doing, it might be fun to stalk around with a dry or dry/dropper some other afternoon this month.  For today, I stuck with a pair of nymphs on a tight line, and they were enough to get the job done.  The most technical or intentional thing I did all day was change my dropper to a size 20 zebra midge to coax a few more takers out of a run after the size 16 and 18 flies stopped getting love.  These were also a few of the fish that came off after a short fight, but I did feel the hits, even on the midge since it was tied on a dropper tag line.  I am off next week, so some adventures further from home await, perhaps a State College run early in the week, but it was good to get out and catch a mess of fish today, especially because I kept to my self-imposed rule and had as much, if not more, success because of it.

A chilly start, but eventually a mild day before the next Nor'easter arrives.