November 30, 2018 – It Only Took Until the Last Day of the Month – Ocean County Surf

Before high tide flattened, some schoolies made my short day.

On the eve of December, I feel lucky to have stuck five bass today between 20 and 24 inches.  I only fished just over 2.5 hours in the middle of the day, I have put zero time into the surf this fall, and I don’t think my rods have been cast since last December.  All but one fat little fish was on a yellow over white half and half teaser fly about 4 inches long, so I guess I was still fly fishing, only with my 9 foot Ron Arra 108 3 rod—the perfect tool to enjoy rats and small schoolies this time of year—although I did not have to settle for any true rats today either.  I also got lucky with a cloudy day because the high tide was smack dab in the middle of the afternoon at around 1:30 PM; otherwise, I don’t know if I would have been as successful standing on the sand only knee deep.  Despite calm winds, there was a swell coming from the NE, waves about 10 seconds apart and some nearly 4 feet high, so no wading out onto the bar, sadly tempting because the fish I did catch came close to end of my casts.  The water was also pretty stained from rainwater, I assume, because grass was not an issue.  When water is dirty, I usually play around with contrasts: use a dark plug and a bright teaser or a black teaser and a bright plug.  The time leading up to high tide seemed to be most productive and may have even cleaned up the surf because instead of brownish whitewater I was timing casts behind waves into actual white water.

Fly fishing?

One fish ate a 6-inch sinking Mag Minnow in dark shades of purples, but the other 4 took the bright teaser, so I suppose the water was eventually not too stained for them to see just about anything they wanted to see.  I watched either some shad or Atlantic herring flop for a minute, but they were quickly gone, and I saw small spearing or rainbait as well.  Since my 1 oz T-Hex never got bit, nor did an epoxy eel, I assume these small bass were eating small baitfish, not sandeels like further north in Monmouth County and, possibly still, New York.  Brant geese and a handful of cormorants were diving for these small baits, but no gulls or gannets were in sight, even though some boats did work all day about an half mile off the surf.  It was Friday, so there were a handful of buggies riding around searching too, but I had a few favorite rips and bars to myself.  The soft sand from replenishments is annoying to walk on, but even that can’t seem to stop Mother Nature from recreating some similar soft structure in the same or close to the same spots each fall.   Still, I do miss my jetties and get all nostalgic in places like Bradley Beach when I can walk on rocks.  I dream of what Deal once was…

Cloudy midday certainly helped my cause as high tide was at 1:38 PM.

As the flood tide stopped moving, I got one last fish, perhaps the largest at 24 inches of fat football, but the slack tide provided no whitewater cover on the bars, I gather, so things died out.  I fished for about 45 minutes after the flood, hoping the outgoing would improve things, but I ran out of time because I still wanted to be home before 4 PM to meet the boy after school.  Not a bad first day out, though.  The only thing I forgot to put in my bag was a knife or braid scissors, so when I wanted to change out to a shorter leader, cutting the line was interesting (shells worked better than teeth, which my dentist will be happy to hear).  Otherwise, I had enough of the right stuff today to be successful in a very short window.  Heck, some dude beachcombing even gave me a couple shads and an epoxy peanut that he scavenged from the high water line, so I came home with more stuff than I left with.  I may try again on Sunday, perhaps with my dad.  Pete was kind enough to share some intel, and he may go Saturday, so I may have even more.  Now that I broke the seal, I will likely start jonesing to get out again this upcoming week.  Come on water temps, stay at 50 degrees or above for a little while longer!

Sunday?  Next week when tides and sunrise match up better?

November 28, 2018 – So Easy Even a Retired Polack Can Do It? – SEPA Stockies With My Dad on the Long Rod

First fly rod trout for the old man!

Not for the first time in his illustrious fishing career, which parallels mine in time if not inclinations, my dad expressed interest this year in learning to fly fish.  Again, not for the first time, he purchased a quality used set up—besides buying trucks and SUVs and boats, his calling in life is finding admirable deals on Craigslist and other fishing forums and reselling them—but this season we actually got the rod set up, in his hands, on the water, and today bent by at least four fat, healthy stocked rainbows.  There are fall stockies and holdovers in many local creeks, so we didn’t have to go far.  Besides the strong wind, it was not a bad day weather-wise, and the creek had a good flow and stain, which put the fish on the feed for at least a short window, maybe 11 AM to 1 PM today.  Nothing fancy for flies was needed, as small prince nymphs, hares ears, and pheasant tails did the trick.

Joe's first bow on the fly rod.

After some instruction in setting up a nymphing rig, indicator fishing, line management, and so on, I left him to it so that I could set up my own rod and, in true self-reliant family tradition, Joe caught his first fly rod trout while I was still tying a knot on my anchor fly.  I rushed up to net the fish, but not before taking a couple action shots.  After the release, Joe was pretty excited to do some further damage.  By the time we got to the first prime hole that I had in mind, he was competent enough to land three more fish while I watched close by, coaching on landing and leading these larger fish, some up to 14 inches, to the net without losing them.  Because my dad knows how to trout fish and how to read water, he basically made me look good with my minimal pointers.  There are some subtleties to where winter fish, even stocked fish who have marinated long enough to acclimate, may choose set up in a hole and so forth.  I am not ready to embrace guiding, but it was fun to play at it since I have considered it as one of my retirement ventures one day.  I would have to leave the rod at home in order to be any good at it at all, however!  Naturally, I stepped into a few prime or challengingly fun spots to pull some fish out for myself, maybe landing 6 and losing a beast of about 16 inches..

The "guide" had to hook a few when he saw the size of them...

After toughing out a particularly windy bend in the creek where we had to time our drifts around gusts up to 40 MPH, we grew tired of leaves, tangles, and wind chill and decided to end on a high note instead of pushing upstream to the next good, possibly sheltered hole.  The window may have been closing anyway, as a quick stop on the way back at Joe’s first honey hole now proved dead after a few drifts.  I remember the bullwhip crack echoing through the valley as my Quill Gordons snapped in ill-timed backcasts along the Little Pine Creek, a twelve year old me, probably sporting a prematurely competent looking brimmed wool crusher hat, deciding to give his dad a quick lesson in April dry fly fishing over enthusiastically rising stockies.  Nymphing in the winter is a different game for sure, but Joe came a long way today!  Well done, man.

Eyeing prime winter spot, looking like he knows what he's doing!

November 26, 2018 – Chasing Some Stockies Before the Storm Chased Us – SEPA Freestoner

Chris seeing if anyone was home before the rain.

I met Chris H. at a small creek not far from home today to show him around a little and, hopefully, catch some fish that were planted on Black Friday.  We did as much walking and talking as fishing at times, but it was good to get better acquainted and share fish stories.  I have known Chris as a friend of (a) friend(s) for years and would cross paths at the odd Eagles party or concert or, most recently, funeral, and I knew he fly fished, even belonged to the same TU chapter to which I pay dues (he actually goes to meetings, however), but we never fished together until today.  The forecast called for moderate rain, after a weekend with some heavy rain, so our window was tight, but at least we had a window.  We managed to get rained on, but not for too long, and the heaviest showers started as we were warm and walking back to the cars.  We caught some fish too, maybe 10 between us.  Besides one hole where some brookies seemed to be noticing hatching midges, most spots took some work to dredge up fish.  Blame it on stained, cold water flowing over fish that have not even set up to feed in many cases, not to mention the fact that they probably got pounded on Sunday when it was nearly 60 degrees outside.

A couple brookies in the mix.

It did not take long to find a little rainbow, but he seemed to be alone.  We had to cover some ground and target some holes that I know always get loaded with some fish in order to put any kind of numbers together.  Even then, it was one or two from each prime spot.  We got at least one of each, the trifecta of brook, rainbow and brown, with one brown I landed that was pushing 12 inches winning the pot.  Not spectacular by any means, but it was good to see some fish in there, another nearby option for the winter, and show Chris around this little creek on a mild, late-fall day.  More rain tonight?  Yep...

A decent brownie too.

November 19 and 20, 2018 – Cold Snow Melt and Some Stockies During Cold and Flu Season – Bed, Bushkill Creek, and Pickering Creek

It even looks cold...

After getting out a couple days early in the month and having success, I had to take an unplanned break or two this November.  First, I got a nice case of the flu that knocked me out for a week, and then it worked its way through Tami and Lukas.  Since I work mostly from home, it was I who also had the boy home sick for a day while Tami toughed it out at work.  She too ended up taking a sick day one morning.  I also had an annual drinking and eating weekend with some old friends in there somewhere, and I didn’t even bring a rod this year since I was still recovering from the illness.  Oh, and then there were the early dismissals and late arrivals for the early snowstorm.  All that and more ended up adding up to two weeks off the water!  Honestly, I was so surprised to have a free day and feel good on Monday that I jumped the gun and headed to the Bushkill near Easton and tried to force a good day in high water and cold snow melt.  The results: my first skunk of 2018.  I jumped around to a couple spots, even threw midges under an indicator in some slow holes, but the fish were either in difficult spawning mode or just in shock from the shot of snow melt.  The water was cold and getting colder as the sun melted remaining snow all day long.  I should have gone to the beach and chased striped bass.

Nice fins on this one, who ate the walts worm.

Today, I lowered my expectations and headed to the Pickering to confirm a fall stocking.  I only fished from 1 to 3 PM, but I caught about 8 fish and dropped a few more—they were barely hitting.  Stocking confirmed (?), although a couple of the fish looked like they had been in there a while.  Two browns had great fins and fought 5 times better than the other fish, and one rainbow was at the other end of the spectrum with a sickly thin caudal peduncle and barely a fight in him.  I just nymphed on a short line with a couple tungsten jigs, mostly a sexy walts worm and a pheasant tail, although the pictures show that a grubby orange caddis pupa looked too good for a few of them to ignore.  It was good to get a few fish after Monday’s beating, but the cold water did not help the stocked fish fight any better than they normally do, which is often not well.  I guess my rather stellar October has spoiled me!

This guy needs to eat a lot of midges this winter in order to make it!

I saw one car with a fishing decal when I was leaving, but I encountered no fishermen while I was out.  Like a lot of the creeks in PA, Pickering certainly looks different in spots due to the flooding rains this year.  I am glad I have some nearby stocked creeks to target this winter, however.  The magic 10 to 2 hours of winter fishing does not always lend itself to long rides, and I think I have made it clear that I like Valley... like it.  Besides a trip or two to limestoners and spring creeks, maybe out to see Sam, and the Lehigh Valley forays that are hit or miss in the winter, I don’t mind chasing a stockie or twelve to quell the winter blues and give Valley a break.  I have done some work on my plug bag too, so it may be time to hit the surf before these cold snaps put an end to what run there is this year!

Another in good shape eating a caddis pupa.

November 5, 2018 – Apparently, the Chlorine Spill Didn’t Get Them All – Valley Creek

Very happy to see you, man.

In April of this year, a water main broke and sent a huge plug of chlorinated water into Little Valley Creek, which joins Valley in Tredyffrin Township/Chesterbrook area.  There was a pretty significant fish kill as a result, so I have purposely left the area alone this year—that is until today.  I haven’t stopped fishing Valley, just this particular area this year.  In fact, I have still done well in the Park a handful of times, and I ventured up above Malvern at least once this year and caught some fish, too, but I had tentatively planned to take a walk this fall to see how the affected area was doing.  I figured I would look for redds and fish a few high percentage holes to see what had survived.  I was working from home this morning, so I only had a couple hours to fish this afternoon, but with rain falling, it was a potentially great day for Valley, so today was the day for some reconnaissance, especially since guys who are fishing it are staying awfully quiet…  I did not catch a huge number of YOY, but I did catch two.  Fishing from 1 PM to about 3 PM, I managed to catch probably 10 fish, a handful of Valley average but also two solid fish that were in the 12 inch range.  I even saw some redds and from the bank spooked a couple fish in shallow near suitable spawning spots.  These are all good signs that, even if affected, the creek will bounce back here.

Plenty of Valley-average eating this afternoon.

There was a sparse hatch of blue winged olives coming off at the first hole I visited, so after fishing midges for a minute and landing an encouraging young of the year all of 4 inches long, I made the switch to a pair of slightly bigger bugs, a size 16 sexy walt’s worm and a size 14 pheasant tail.  My second fish, the one that opens this blog post, was a doozy for Valley.  It was a strong, acrobatic fish over 12 inches long.  That certainly made me happy, as you can imagine!  Now that I was convinced I would be fishing and not just scouting, I kept working upstream to target a few high percentage spots in order to take advantage of my short window.

A resilient little creek.

After dragging a few more out of heavy, bankside cover on my way upstream, I reached the next good hole and took two more Valley-average fish out of it too.  The rain was getting steadier after a morning of drizzle, so I could see that a nice stain would cover my approach to one last good hole.  I would leave a bit more water to rediscover after the spawn, but I would end this short trip by giving my best effort in a hole where I know a couple larger fish tend to set up and, at times, cooperate.  The last hole did not disappoint.

Another good one to end the short trip!

I landed an 8 incher at the tailout before dropping my pair of nymphs in the quiet pocket nearer the head of the pool.  My flies took the perfect drift line, splitting the difference between the seam and quiet water behind it, and then came to a slight pause.  I set the hook and had another good Valley fish jumping on the end of a short line, one, two, maybe three leaps before coming to the net.  This fish was not as big as the first one, but I would bet it was 11 inches and much more colored up for the imminent spawn than his cousin.  It was just a real beauty that would have been a show-stopper in brighter light conditions.  Still, even the clouds and rain couldn’t hide the beauty of this perfect fish who beat the chlorine kill and looks ready to keep making more babies.  Valley is nothing if not resilient, but I guess she has to be with the history of ills and spills and bellyaches she has suffered over the years.

I will revisit after the spawn to see how the rest of the stretch has fared, but things seemed okay today.

November 2, 2018 – Let’s Blame it on the Leaf Hatch? – Northampton County

A very nice start to the morning!

I fished a favorite small stream in Northampton County for a few hours today.  I probably drove over 60 minutes there and 60 back to fish 180 minutes, but I just had a hunch about this creek today.  The weather was swampy with drizzle and significant wind out of the south at times.  Dead leaves in the water were a constant nuisance, but I only got poured on once, and I landed over 10 fish, including a couple solid ones, so it was a good day, I suppose.  I caught 100 decent leaves, too!  I also lost a big fish, close to 20 inches, probably the same fish I landed in this same hole earlier in October of this year.  I did not let it ruin my day, mainly because it happened at the end of a good day, not at the beginning…  I also left two redds alone that were situated in a spot with nice, secure, overhead cover.  No wonder, I thought to myself, that this hole always has a good population of fish and several good fish visiting each year.

Added purple to the sometimes muted fall colors.

After sneaking through wet woods and busting through dying knotweed as quietly as possible, I was disappointed by the “leaf hatch” I encountered.  It was in full effect, with every run flowing a patchwork of reds, golds, and oranges, and every eddy blanketed with the litter of sycamores and oaks in various states of decay.  Deep holes were fringed in loosely constructed leaf banks, some knee high and suspended in the water column like “earthy” smelling Jello.  Once I figured out the right weight and most effective tuck cast to pop through the debris, though, I started strong with a good 14 or 15 inch wild brown.  I then landed a rainbow and maybe three more smaller browns from the same hole.

A lot of rainbows in here after this year of floods.

At the next hole, I did much the same, this time starting with a rainbow—I have encountered many more of them here this year because of the flooding rains washing fish downstream long distances and over falls and other obstacles—before moving on to 2 pretty little browns and another that was nearly the same size as my first good fish of the morning, maybe 14 inches and change and a healthy, athletic fish.  As you may be able to see from the photos, most fish enjoyed a purple jig in size 12 or an orange caddis pupa in size 14 or 16.  Fish here enjoy a stonefly, so the large purple fly made sense, at least the size.  The only bug life I saw in the air, however, were midges and maybe a couple small olives, so I eventually added a small dropper, a size 18 walts worm, which you will learn below is what fooled the best fish of the day (that I did not land, mind you).

A few 10 inchers that liked the caddis pupa too.

I made one short drive around 1:30 PM to another spot upstream, one where I caught a mess of fish the last time I was on this creek.  I did not catch a mess of them again, but I did add a few more.  The real reason for the move was to sneak up on the big 19 or 20 inch fish I landed before and see if he had company.  The water was much clearer and lower today, but the cloud cover and the leaf litter allowed me to get close and lob a cast into the spot within the spot.  This time I had the small barbless walts worm in size 18 tied off the bend of the hook of my anchor fly, just to cover all bases…  Sure enough, I hooked a big fish.  I have caught big white suckers here before, and this fish barely reacted, so I was almost convinced that I had another one.  It was not a sucker.

You again?

After few slow head shakes, this big brown did begin to fight, though not panic.  He or she—I am going to say he, the same fish I caught before and not his mate just for my own sanity—took a tentative run downstream into shallower water, and it was I who felt the panic when I saw that the line coming out of his mouth was already collecting a nice wad of drowned leaves.  I did not have to make any wrong moves to lose him because while I was admiring him, all colored up and fins flared, I was thinking about what to do about the leaves that would likely work this small barbless fly out of his mouth, and that is exactly what happened.  No jump, no drag peeling run, no violent head shakes, just a change in the angle of the hook penetration, I suppose, and the line went limp—I was not even given a good *ping* or *pop* telegraphed through the line, just a whimper and he was gone. Nooooooo!   I tried to shake it off and caught two more small browns, but when I checked my phone, I was relieved to see that it was time to head home for the boy’s school dismissal.  I don’t think I could have stayed much longer, honestly....