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....