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.