April 29, 2018 – Sunday in the Park, Looking for the One – Brodhead and McMichaels Creeks

Still high (on meth from the tent city?) and stained, but getting there.

Tami and the boy had plans all day today, and I had worked around the house most of Saturday, even cutting my lawn for the first time this year, so I decided to get up early and do some scouting of one of my favorite creeks.  I have not visited the Brodhead yet this year, and I don’t love the weekend fishing there, but I figured I would fish large and look for that one fish to make the day, staying away from the crowds in the process.  They must have stocked because it was crowded!  I arrived at 8 AM, and the park had several visitors in place already.  With Route 80 so close by, I have learned to expect a lot of Jersey and New York plates on the weekends.  Saturday was gorgeous, but Sunday started unsettled then settled into a cold front kind of day.  I was glad I brought a soft shell because it never got above 50 degrees and I never took it off, even after hoofing it through the gorge below the park in hopes of tangling with at least one decent wild brown trout or at least a big rainbow gone rogue.

Chased the skunk away with a couple of these before moving on to a tamer spot.

Wading was a bit scary, so I spent a lot of time fishing the soft water on the same bank on which I was standing, which means a few hooksets into the overhanging trees too.  I only got bounced once down in the gorge and the water was too cold to throw a streamer, so the morning was a bit challenging, especially as the wind kicked up and made the possibility of shooting an indicator impossible.  There were olives on the water, and a couple larger mayflies, too, but the only risers I saw were in a flat across the river where I could not reach them without a jet boat.   Before leaving for nearby McMichaels Creek, a smaller creek and a more relaxed wade, I managed to catch two stocked browns by the parking lot.  A father and daughter fork-sticking it across the creek left with a limit, and a group of guys from North Jersey all had stringers of freshly stocked fish.  One guy stopped me to ask for help identifying a fish on his stringer.  I wish I had taken a picture of it: an American Shad, maybe a 5 lb. roe, too, in the Brodhead!  I assume with high water in the river, she took a wrong turn.

Ended with a mess of stocked rainbows as a consolation prize.

Even though I ran into two high schoolers as I was leaving, I was the only stick on the crick at McMichaels.  I found no bonus browns in a few of the potential spots, but I salvaged the day with probably 10 ornery stocked bows.  The heavy water has made the fish strong and athletic—and hungry!  Most of them took a big stonefly or a size 12 pheasant tail.  Even though it was a long, tough day, it was enjoyable to be on the mighty Brodhead and in the mountains, which are ready to pop into spring.  I may head back one day this week, as dry fly fishing can be had on the olives, and as the water recedes and warms, the pocket water fishing will improve.

April 27, 2018 – A Sucker for a Rainy Forecast – Northampton County Limestoner

A couple on the mouth, including one probably a pound heavier than this one...

I was all excited when I saw the forecast for Thursday night into Friday morning.  I was in need of a good day with some wild fish after a week of fishing close to home with mixed results, a result of a lot of work and home stuff going on.  Not the first or last time, but I fell for a promising forecast that never materialized; the heavier rain never really arrived, which was good and bad.  It was bad in that the creek I selected fishes well when it is stained and higher.  It is a small creek that hides some big fish, but those fish are in pocket water and deep holes, typically not in flats gently rising to bugs, and even if they were, one would have a hard time approaching them from anywhere but below them, in the water with them, hoping not to stumble or make a ruckus and spook them.   The lack of heavy rain was good in that I kept my hood up most of the 4 hours I fished, but only to keep a steady drizzle from dripping down my neck, not because there were any downpours or storms to dodge.  I caught wild fish and rainbows pushed downstream from a stocked section of the creek by the heavy rains earlier in the month, and I even caught a couple river run suckers (also wild fish, yeah?) up to five pounds and likely looking to spawn or returning from doing their thing and now ready to eat?

Not big momma, but a decent way to start the morning.

The first hole I hit in earnest has produced some big fish for me over the years, and I even landed an 18 inch rainbow earlier this year, but today it was not on fire, by any means.  I managed to dredge up two 12 inch wild browns that fought really well, though, so that was a lot of fun.  I concentrated around a piece of structure where I have seen a pig brown in recent months, but I just ended up losing a couple flies for the effort.  There were only midges and small olives, like 18 or smaller, coming off the water for the first hour, and besides the two fish I caught, I saw no other signs of life.  The water was high from a wet April, but not high and stained from any of the recent rain, so I scaled down to smaller bugs and drove a short way to another section of the creek that features shallower pocket water and runs.

Getting better!

I stuck my first decent fish of the day on the soft edges of a fast run, and after a good fight, I almost lost him when the pheasant tail dropper came loose and my anchor fly got a fin just as I was ready to land him.  With that leverage on me, I was certain he was going to swim away with my flies, but I somehow managed to stumble below him and get a net under him before any such disaster.  This fish was not all that colored up, even for the light conditions today, but it was also wild based on the fins and the blue spot behind the eye (and the fight he gave).  After a couple pics, he got the release he deserved.

A lot of bows got washed down, but some better ones at least.

Picking my way upstream, I got bounced a couple other times, and I landed three more fish, all rainbows that must have been pushed way downstream by the heavy water of a couple weeks ago.  There was still evidence of where the creek had been in high water, with side channels still full of water and last summer’s knotweed knocked down a couple feet up the bank in some places, so there could be a lot of bows in the creek this spring.  I don’t mind, honestly, as they get sporty in this kind of water.  Oxygen rich and full of bugs, you would thrive too—if you liked to eat aquatic insects, that is.  One big bow, shown in the blurry shot above taken in a rain shower, was pushing 15 inches, but a smaller one I landed earlier jumped a least 5 times before coming to the net.

Okay, so not all good ones...

Things got really interesting as I neared the end of this stretch of pocket water.  Below one last long shallow riffle, the creek widens to allow a soft edge, a hole, sort of, but a hole right next to a fast run that is 3 to 4 feet deep on average.  I thought I had blown up the spot on my approach because I spooked about 10 large suckers out of the tailout as I tried to sneak in.  I did catch two more trout in the hole, however, but not before I tangled with a couple of those huge suckers.  These were fish that had come up from the river below, not little guys who spend their lives in the creek.  And they actually bounced my Czech nymph rig!  I had put on a big golden stone to get down in the deep seam, and I got hit a couple times without hooking up.  I thought that maybe I had found the brood stock, too small to get hooked.  I changed out to a small walt’s worm and a tungsten pt, and landed the sucker pictured at the beginning of the post.

Good flows persist, but not what I was hoping for this morning.

After setting this sucker free, a good 4 pound fish, I bet, a solid river fish, I thought for sure the next fish I hooked was a big, big brown trout when I got bounced and set the hook and felt the head shake.  Imagine my disappointment and, to be honest, amazement when a 5-pound sucker tried to take a leap out of the water after bulldogging towards some tree roots across the creek from me!  This one barely fit in the net when I turned him back to shore.  I did not take a picture of this fish, as the novelty had now worn off… I remember catching suckers this big while trout fishing on the Little Pine Creek when I was young, fish that must have been making a spawning run from the lake below, and they were also fun then, but I was not going to hang out and wrassle with suckers for the rest of the afternoon, not when I could make better time getting home before the early Friday rush.  Not the day I had hoped for, but my expectations were pretty high.  I figure I landed 8 trout, 4 of them wild browns, so I will take it and be grateful while I watch the forecasts for those unpredictable perfect conditions.

A cute little guy.

April 23, 2018 – Another Day, Another Double – Bluebird Afternoon Walk Down to the Wissahickon

Where's Waldo?

I went out to breakfast with my lovely wife and ran a couple errands before grading papers this morning and planning my lessons for Tuesday’s classes.  I am sure fishing was better in the morning before it got very sunny and a little breezy, but I felt compelled to take a walk down the street around 1 PM today, just to stretch the legs and toss my 9 foot 5 weight rod, which was rigged with a streamer.  The water levels were not as high as I had expected, and the stain is finally gone, so I only got a few follows taking the active approach to fishing.  I eventually rigged up to nymph two specific deep holes, and I dredged up about 6 fish in a couple hours, including another double—one on both the dropper and the anchor fly on the same hookset.  I wasn’t luck enough to net both for a photo this time, but I also didn’t have to deal with twisted leader and tippet material.

Had to plumb two deep holes with a big tungsten jig to land half a dozen.

I caught my first sunfish of the year from the creek, so it was probably smart to give my local creek one more shot before the party is over.  As it is, the Wissy in this area only gets two stockings, likely because the water warms so quickly, and that stocking happened last week.  There are fish left, and with a little shot of rain or more bugs, they might get caught before they go belly up.  I enjoyed the walk, though, twice spooking a small herd of deer from their afternoon naps.  See if you can find them in the shot above; it took me a while, and I am the one who took the pictures.  Thursday might be my next opportunity to fish, but depending on how much rain we get, perhaps Wednesday morning close to home, maybe Valley, double up on a couple 4 inch wild fish instead??

April 20, 2018 – From (Good) Stickman to Stockie (Chaser)??? – An Older Man Visits the Oley Valley

Windy, chilly, and stocky continues this week.

When I graduated high school, I was nearly 5’11” and only 160 pounds, but I had been even skinnier than that most of my life.  As a result, my dad called me Stickman or just plain Stick, which I have been thinking about lately because “a good stick” has become hip language to describe someone who fishes well with the long rod.  By the time I reached my first winter break of college, my friends and family were shocked at what 20, then 30 pounds (now 45-ish pounds) can do to change the Stickman image.  The same is true for spending too much time with stocked trout this week!  I hope I am not losing my edge, as I stuck a dozen stocked trout on the Manny this afternoon, but I missed 3 in a row in the last hole I fished, a hole that I know holds some of the only wild fish in this section of creek.  Today is my birthday, so the reminiscing that goes along with turning 49 also likely contributed to me considering that name Stickman.  I spent the better part of the morning, one that began at 5:30 AM with a 49 year old’s bladder calling, grading papers and fielding questions from my students.  By noon, I couldn’t do it anymore, and I couldn’t stomach the Wissy again, so I decided to take the ride to Berks County for a change of scenery.  I would catch stocked trout in bucolic farmland not urban or suburban parks, but I would also have at least a chance at some wild fish in a few spots.

The little pt dropper worked on a little better looking stockies

Some holes near the parking spot came up empty for me, but I did find half a dozen nice looking stocked browns a little ways upstream from the easy access.  The flows were still great from the previous weekend storm, so while clear to slightly stained, there was also sufficient water in all the holes and runs to cover my approach on a wild fish or two if I got the chance.  On the way upstream, I found a few more bows and browns here and there, dropping one or two, as well.  I only had a small window to fish, as we had plans to go have a birthday dinner as a family after the boy got home from school and my wife from work, so I was in a bit of a rush when I reached my final destination on this stretch of the creek.  I should have been concentrating, not rushing, on this particular hole because bugs were hatching, and I saw a couple fish suspended in the water column actively feeding.   I had seen no other fisherman today, so no one had likely spooked this potential honey hole, either.  I crept into place and delivered a couple gentle casts with small tungsten pheasant tail and a walt’s worm dropper, which had scored most of my other fish.

A better looking one, maybe even a holdover, but still a stocked fish..

The Stickman (now stockie with age) hooked and dropped three in as many casts as the alarm on my phone was going off, reminding me to head for home.  There are stockies in this hole too, but I was convinced that I had missed at least one decent wild trout this afternoon if not more.  I hope that I was just rushing (next time, I will hoof it up to this spot first and work back to the car!) and that I have not lost my quick hookset on the more forgiving stocked trout I have been targeting close to home.  With traffic and some drama at home with the boy, we also missed dinner plans, but we did eventually salvage things with some excellent fish tacos from the awesome Mexican place up the street.  It wasn’t a perfect birthday, but it was fitting for 49, I guess.  This time next year will be better, thinner, stronger, healthier, wilder, not slower and stockier, I hope?

Appreciate ya, and your are pretty cute for a stocked fish, but I think we need to take a break for a while.

April 19, 2018 – And on that Note… - A Short and Silly One on the Wissahickon

Double shot Tuesday on Thursday: who was more embarrassed, I wonder?

I needed a break from reading papers all morning (and last night), but I had to stay close to home, so I visited the Wissy in my neighborhood today from noon until about 2 PM, and I unwittingly happened upon another fresh stocking.  I looked up the date when I got home, and it was a couple days ago, so they weren’t so fresh that they weren’t hungry.  Needless to say, it was just silly, ending in a double—one on the dropper and one on the anchor fly.  The two browns were small enough and the distance between my dropper tag and the anchor fly far enough that I could net them both for what must have been an embarrassing photo shoot for them, I imagine.

A freshly stocked little piggy.

Parking was tough due to a construction crew taking over the lot, so I had to park above a popular bridge pool on a side street  I stopped at this popular bridge to test my tightline nymphing technique in flat deep water, and I landed about 6 rainbows before moving on to better water with less traffic and construction noise.  It was cold and drizzling, with a handful of harder showers mixed in, so I was the only stick on the crick besides a couple bait guys chilling in carp water with the buckets and the radio and such.

Most of the bows on the small dropper.

I found the motherlode of browns in another spot and stood waist deep in cold water in the rain until I had my fill of fish and the elements.  After taking a few on a tightline, I also scored a few more letting the flies swing, and I finally ended in true silly fashion by gently hopping my big jigged pheasant tail anchor fly in a deep eddie.  That yielded another handful before the double shot happened and I quit, perhaps as embarrassed as the two browns in the net, and headed for the gas fireplace and a cup of coffee with Lucy the cat. 

Just a lot of averaged sized browns on a cold, rainy day.

April 16 and 18, 2018 – A Lot of Rain - Putting the Social Net-Working in Social Networking – Reelin’ Ron Hits the Wissahickon with the Long Rod, Finally!

The Pride of Delco getting things accomplished with the tight line.

I fished with Ron for the first time today, but we actually hugged when we met at the stream this morning for a good day of chasing stockies on the Wissy.  I feel like I know the guy, and he probably feels the same way since he is undoubtedly one of the first followers of my blog here, and he predates that by a long time, as well.  We became acquainted through the Bass Barn, back when I was morphing once again from surf fisherman to trout fisherman to fly fisherman to surf fisherman to trout fisherman to fly fisherman, with detours in other species too.  I could just tell he was a good guy, and that was confirmed in person today.  He is recently retired as a middle school shop teacher, and has almost finished raising some adult kids, so he has more time on his hands now, which made it easier to finally meet and fish.  We are both educators who love to fish, and we both appreciate a good book—he is always quick with a nugget of fishing wisdom, knows A River Runs Through It is also a novel about addiction, for example—so what were the chances we would dislike each other, right?

Ron's stonefly worked as did the old tungsten pt and the walt's worm.

Based on the questions he has asked over the years, the right sort of questions that reveal experience on the water, I knew he could probably fish, and I was correct.  I took him for a walking tour of one of my favorite sections of my home creek, offered about 10 minutes total of advice on how to rig and fish a Czech nymphing system, and he quickly put some fish on the board.  He even caught all his fish on the flies he tied all winter, which is more than I can say for this lazy angler these days.  In addition to sharing a John Merwin edited collection of fishing quotations that will find a permanent home in my powder room, a place of respect, he even shared a couple of his streamers, made me a gourmet sandwich, and took a 5 wt combo off my hands to add to his arsenal of toys.

A handful of browns but mostly bows, 10 to 12 inches

I couldn’t accurately guess how many fish we caught, but it was a lot, especially a week after a stocking and another flood damaging storm, and I usually don’t take a lot of pictures when I am fishing with another angler, but it was a good day.  Ron has homework to do with his 10 foot 3 wt, but I think he left today with a lot more confidence in the tool, especially for the type of pocket water we targeted today, and I hope he gained a first-hand appreciation of the Mighty Wissy in Philadelphia, an oft-maligned and underappreciated crick that is at least a click or two above the average put and take urban stocked trout stream, at least on the beauty scale if not on the water quality meter! 

Valley was ugly, even on Monday afternoon....

After all that rain over the weekend, Valley was unfishable even at 3 PM the afternoon after (I did take a walk with the streamer rod on Monday, but knew it was a waste of time besides the walk in the woods, of course), but that also means flows should be good for a couple more days in the local creeks, and I will try again this week.  I also have tentative plans to fish the Lehigh River with another local guy, a new fishing contact, so I find myself very social these days?

April 12, 2018 – Tangled with a Unicorn, Settled for a Pig – Northampton County Limestoner

Redemption after a trying morning.

Call me Ralph.  I am a heaver.  I guess it’s the adrenaline, but when I used to run cross county in high school, play soccer, ask out the hottest girl in my Chem class, I would inevitably vomit or at least dry heave before and/or after the big event—not during, that I can recall.  I empathize with Stan from South Park and that high school speaker from Marjorie Douglas who vomited on live television—it could have been me.  My nerves can’t handle being so hype for so long, I suppose.  What does all this have to do with fishing, you may ask?  Man, I lost a huge wild brown yesterday, probably 5 inches longer than the one I taped and released later, pictured above.  I did everything right too!  I was set with both feet firmly planted, my sighter a straight line to my 5X tippet, good knots that held.  I reacted immediately to the slight pause in my drift.  I got a great hook set, fought the fish well, turning him from his sunken log cabin multiple times, keeping his nose out of the streambed stones where he could work my size 18 pt out of his jaws.  I even got my net out without losing focus on the fight at hand.  And what a fight it was!  For 24 inches, I bet, this fish was a leaper.  He tailed-walked all over the pool, even towards me at one point.  I will dream about this wide-bodied beast dancing on the surface of the creek for many years, I am afraid.  So what went wrong?  At the time, while sitting on the bank vomiting, I could not have told you.  In retrospect, however, I think I have figured it out.

If you fish barbless, you are probably well-accustomed to the flies coming out of the fish’s mouth in the net (and not).  It is quite common to land a fish in the net and find that he is already free and ready to be turned loose.  It must happen when the pressure is released.  When I got this fish’s front half into my inadequate net, I must have released the pressure, and he was gone.  My tandem rig was intact, the hooks were not bent, which could have happened, I suppose; he just caught a break.  Honestly, I am not even sure the net would have worked.  I had to net the 19.5 incher twice because he flopped out the first time, and I hate beaching big wild fish—that, too, can lead to leader snapping, especially 5X, so there is no good solution while fishing alone.  If I were fishing with a buddy, at least I could have blamed him for losing the fish, but if it were Sam or Kev, for example, they may have had the right tool for the job, a nice long-handled, deep basket-ed Brodin or FishPond or something.  Am I going to be one of those guys with the long handle stuck in my wader belt now?  We’ll see how well I sleep over the next couple of weeks, I suppose.  I do have a birthday coming up very soon, and I have been a decent boy

Under there he is, still...

I am not kidding when I say that I almost went home after losing that fish.  I texted Sam for some therapy, knowing he tangles with a lot of big fish, and perhaps knowing that fish that big do get off quite often and that another fisherman would confirm this for my fragile psyche.  His responses helped, but I think talking to Tami on the phone and to another fly guy that I ran into streamside a while later helped me process my defeat and move on.  I am glad I did not go home because I had some redemption, this time landing a large fish on the same rig.  I taped this fish, convinced it was over 20 inches, but while only 19.5, it was a horse.  Length is not the only measure of a beast, I hear (just ask POTUS?).  I was dry heaving again when I released this fish!  I guess it was all too much for my old heart to handle.

Back to reality

I should have gone home then, but I decided to take a drive to one last run before heading home.  Not only were blue winged olives active, but caddis were beginning to pop.  Big fish were active, so could I go 2 for 3?  The results, a stocked brookie, in a wild trout stream… The local TU has been doing this for a few years and claiming they wash over the falls and such.  Who knows where he came from, honestly.  I ended my day here, praying I would sleep and not dream of dancing 24 inch browns all night.  I did, dammit.

Not my best camera work.

April 11, 2018 – Settle Down, Hero, They Stocked Yesterday – Wissahickon Creek

If I squint, I am in the Poconos...

Before starting to write this post, I decided to check the stocking schedule for Philadelphia County and learned that the Comish had dumped a bunch of new fish into the creek on Tuesday, while I toiled away on my 12 hour teaching marathon day (this American runs on La Colombe or Rival Bros.on Tuesdays, not Dunkin’).  That explains why I caught probably 20 fish, mostly browns, in just 2 hours of fishing today.  I worked and graded papers until about 1 PM, when I finally decided I couldn’t take the day off today (from fishing).  While waiting for the bus with the boy, my dad drove by on his way to the Wissy down the street.  Tom C sent me striped bass pics from Monday.  Bucci sent me a picture of a trout he caught later in the morning on his day off from delivering those fresh cuts and fades at the barber shop.  Then Sam broke my spirit sending me shots of wild pigs from State College.  I needed some kind of consolation prize, so I whooped it up on some very fresh stockies, not even knowing just how fresh they were. 

I hear a new diet at the hatchery this year is supposed to give them better colors?

Besides about 5 rainbows that I caught in a flatter hole midging with an indicator, biding my time until I could get into the place I wanted to fish on Monday, which was again occupied for the first 30 minutes, I caught nothing but feisty stocked browns Czech nymphing.  I had the most success on a grub-ish looking caddis pupa, but I also got probably 5 to take the double-beadhead stonefly I was using as an anchor on my tightlining rig.  If I squint and ignore being crowded out by a couple silent bait guys, more silent when I caught 10 fish to their zero before they left me alone, this hole is one of my favorites because it feels like I am on a challenging freestoner with deep pocket water because, well, despite being in Philly, that’s what it is, man.  A good time, though I am not as talented as I think apparently…  I promised myself (and, in turn, you dear reader) that I will pursue something not Wissy-related on Thursday!

Midge, stonefly, and little grub caddis pupa did the trick.

April 9, 2018 – A Chilly, Prematurely Mucky, but Successful Trip Close to Home – Wissahickon Creek

Sure, it looked good from afar, a little dark maybe...

Until this afternoon, I had not fished one of my favorite stretches of the Wissahickon in Fairmount Park, but I am glad I did today.  Despite it starting out sunny, calm, and 40 degrees, the day got cloudier and windier during the 4 hours I put in fishing a variety of nymphs and, as a result, it probably felt colder too.  By the time I quit, I had to put on a small Airlock indicator for line control, but that allowed me to end in a flatter hole that was still loaded up with trout (and tangle with a big palomino that shook off a barbless green weenie after a short battle).  Tightlining a few runs and holes, along with the aforementioned dredging a deep flat hole with an indicator before I left, allowed me to land close to 20 rainbows, I bet, which was a welcomed surprise knowing that two weekends of fishing pressure had not removed many fish, and more fish are on the way later this week, I believe. I am still due for a “real” trip later this week, but this will help make my long Tuesday of teaching a little easier until I can get out again somewhere more interesting.

Not pretty for April 9th or August 9th!

The creek looked great from afar, higher and deeper than it actually was because of a massive algae bloom that darkened the bottom.  I fish the creek a lot, and I don’t remember seeing the bloom so pronounced this early in the season.  I am afraid to ask what organic matter got washed in after all these Nor’easters, as every eddy had broken, dead blooms ready to coat my line, and every rock that was not right in the current was covered with slippery slime.  Perhaps the warm, cold, warm, cold is to blame, but it seems a little suspect.  At any rate, it didn’t affect the fishing today, but I hope some good rains wash it out after we get some leaf cover in the canopy of trees in a few weeks' time.

Squirmie, meh, wormie...

A bunch of middle school-looking students were fishing a couple of my honey holes when I arrived.  I talked to two of them and learned that it’s a sanctioned activity with a teacher, who was upstream with others.  Pretty cool!  Maybe if I send the boy to Springside Chestnut Hill School (on scholarship, mind you) he will embrace fishing more?  I left them to the spot; in fact, I sent these two young bulls fishing a usually-fishless riffle away with a little intel on where to up their chances chunking a spinner before I headed downstream to another deep hole that usually holds fish, even weeks after the stocking trucks depart.  Before reaching the hole, I did catch a couple fish in odd little spots, including a couple on the squirmie wormie, which I have not thrown much before.  Not the most durable fly, especially compared to the san juan worm, but before fish ate off both ends of the worm, leaving me with a pink stub, I did land probably 5 on it.  I have a couple others, but the green weenie is still my old reliable for stocked trout (although midges were active today).

The good old pheasant tail came in 2nd to the green weenie.

 As I set up in the deep run and hole that was my escape from the school kids for good, I switched to a tungsten pheasant tail and, eventually, a green weenie with a walt’s worm off the dropper tag.  I picked up at least 10 fish here before deciding to venture back upstream.  A bait fisherman, a pretty good guy whom I ended up chatting with for a few minutes about all things fishing, was targeting the deep eddy and run that I wanted to target before going home, so I settled into a deep flat in the pool below.  By this time, the wind was getting tricky, so I added an indicator and did my best to mend the line in the inopportune, unpredictable gusts, and I picked up another half a dozen fish.  I also hooked into some “gold” with the weenie, but the big fish shook off my barbless hook in about 10 seconds of battle.  I watched the bait guy catch and release a few up in the hole I wanted to fish, but he had made his way down to me by the time I had to leave to get the boy at the bus stop, so I never got to the prime spot, and I ended up graciously surrendering my final honey hole to him.  He had caught and released the same palamino last week, so it was the least I could do, as I owed it to him for giving me a chance to strike a little gold myself this afternoon.  Thanks to my diminished fish fighting skill set this afternoon, at least on this fish, I guess I have another chance at the same fish some other time?  As long as this odd bloom doesn’t choke them out, I suppose!