May 11, 2018 – CZN 201 – Intermediate Czech Nymphing – Brodhead Creek

Eric in action, and his first wild brown on the new rod.

Eric and I had a sort of homecoming today.  Though we are about 15 years apart in age, we both attended ESU, thee East Stroudsburg University.  He actually graduated, while I just learned a lot about beer, heartbreak, setting skis, and fishing the Pocono streams and rivers before returning to Philly to finish my degree(s).  He had a boys’ weekend planned with some old friends (not simply an old friend like this guy), some fishing and turkey hunting (weather permitting, as rain is on the way) but the buddy who could let them into the cabin had a thing for his son’s school that wasn’t happening until 6 or 7 PM, in Lititz, PA, mind you.  All that meant is that a mitch had all afternoon to fish, and I was able to keep him company, having just finished submitting the final grades for my classes this morning.  What better way to celebrate—Eric, the rare free day to fish for hours and hours, me the culmination of a semester where I had 90 students—than to hit the mighty Brodhead for part two of our nymphing “master class” (I hope Sam doesn’t read this and think I’ve gotten a bigg(er) head!)?

Knowing that the Commish had stocked on May 8^th, I believe, I suggested we give it a go in a popular stretch right in town, an easy place to meet up, that way we could work up to some favorite pocket water later in the day.  Well, things sort of worked out the other way around, with the first spot being magic and the second not so much.  The first spot had rather heavy hatches of olives and large caddis, so not only were the stocked rainbows eating well, but the population of wild browns here, often cleverly hidden in plain sight, were also not as shy as usual.  There were bait guys, spinner guys, and other fly guys out all day, but we really didn’t have trouble finding open water by fishing the more challenging pocket water and some favorite holes with just plain confusing hydraulics that make nymphing even on a short line a fun puzzle to solve. 

Big flies and a lot of shot.

A couple obvious spots did not pan out, but we were probably the last in a long line of guys to give them a shot, especially since we weren’t even suited up to fish until nearly noon on a lovely Friday afternoon in May.  However, a favorite spot I just call “Big Rock” (which I am sure others do too since it is obviously just a big rock) kickstarted the day for me.  I gave Eric first crack, but he was honestly a bit intimidated by what actually to do here.  As you may see from the collage of pics, there are just soft pockets in white water—you may also see the size of the rubber legged stone I was using and the size of the split shot I had to use to get into a productive zone.  I lost at least three fish, including another double (wtf!?) before I landed a decent rainbow and then the little guy pictured.  My potential net man was way upstream working another bankside glide when I needed him, as I hooked and fought a great, 15 inch wild brown in this hole too.  No pic of this one because one of his violent head shakes when I finally got him in the net broke off the stonefly, and he took himself and it with him back into the whitewater.  I really should re-tie more often in this type of boulder-strewn water.  Eric saw none of this, of course…  I was disappointed for a while, trying to shake it off, but really all I missed was a photo, so a few head shakes of my own and muttered f-bombs did the trick.

A big rock, bows in whitewater, and a missing brownie photo...

I joined Eric, and he was getting pissy too after losing some flies and just not knowing how to approach bigger water with his long rod and sighter leader.  I decided that we should take a walk to a good hole than begins with a moderately deep run above it, figuring some fresh stockies in faster water would give him his confidence back.  While he rigged up again, I tested the waters and caught two feisty bows in a short period, so I moved down when Eric was finished rigging, and he put on a show that included half a dozen bows and his first wild brown on the long rod, perhaps his first wild brown period.  It was a pale female, so the photographic evidence isn’t all that exciting, but the fish fought well and was a good 13 inches of wild trout.  We were both excited, obviously.  His confidence restored, my mood lifted, I suggested a challenge downstream.

Before my net man arrived to offer photo-assist.

While trying to keep our feet under us, we whooped it up on some feisty rainbows hiding behind boulders and in soft pockets in a nice deep riffle, one of my favorite spots on this stretch of the creek.  We also had a double, which may have made a good photo op if we didn’t risk swimming for art.  It was here that I also got a second chance at a nice wild brown, and this time I have the picture to prove it.  This one was significantly bigger than the first one too, probably pushing 19 inches and wide.  I had the rare opportunity to have someone take my picture with a fish, as Eric rushed down to assist when he saw I had my hands full trying to land this beauty in the type of water we were fishing.  Thankfully, my knot was better this time, or the tippet less abraded than at Big Rock, because this one stayed in the net and allowed himself to be photographed.  Eric was as excited as I was just to see such a brute in amongst the stockies, one of three that came out to play at mid-day, and by far the largest and most colorful of them.

Eric's fine photo work.  About 19 inch and fat wild brown all colored up in the sun.

This sort of thing has happened a couple times in recent years: I have had a disappointment, like losing a great fish, followed up by another capitalized-upon opportunity shortly thereafter.  Proof, I suppose, that one must keep one’s head in the game at all times, but especially after at least one big fish has shown interest that day.  My day made, I turned to nymphing coach, as Eric and I moved into a couple more runs and holes.  I think Eric got more confidence in his Czech nymphing technique and his rigging, and I know he learned a bit more about where fish live, especially wild and holdover fish.   He was a quick study and, as always, good company. 

A slightly better pic of Eric's first wild brownie from the Brodhead.

Around 5 PM, we were both grateful and a bit caught off guard by the fact that we could actually fish until dark if we wanted.  After a bit of a break to hydrate and snack, we headed to another favorite spot, one certainly more challenging to wade and crack, but with all the bugs around this afternoon, my expectations were high.  Two hours later, and I landed one rainbow for all the effort, and Eric had to balance across a down tree to get across the creek before dusk—these the only highlights.  With limited time, we waited for risers at the gliding tailout of a deep pool, but only two or three very small fish, maybe even chubs, showed interest in the olives and sparse caddis hatches blowing through in infrequent waves.   Eric took a swing and a miss on one fish that came up for an 18 olive dry, and I took a dip over my waders, walking into a deep depression behind a boulder while looking at my next casting target not where my legs were taking me.  All day in treacherous waters, and I get wet in frog water just before dark!  My phone was dry, it was a warm night, and my heater worked all the way home, so just an inconvenience, really.  Eric and I parted at dark after a really great day on (and in the end, in) the water.

Until CZN 301 starts next semester!