April 28 and 29, 2019 – After the Crazy Weather, Fishing Resumes – A Pair of SEPA Cricks (Wissahickon, Monacacy)

Don't tell mom: back-up camera selfies?

Tami has been away visiting family in Ohio, so it’s a boys’ club around here until Tuesday night.  Besides the leftover turbulence, I guess, she missed some interesting weather this weekend that resulted in three short power outages in 24 hours due to high winds.  It rained enough to stain creeks, but nothing looked blown out, so the boy and I took a midday walk on the Wissahickon down the street.  It was what I call “walking with a fishing rod,” and that was about the extent of it.  We caught one that came off before we could get it up a high bank, and we had another chase the Rapala CD 1 three times and never commit.  The boy did everything right, too, never stopping his retrieve or panicking when he saw the fish following, but I guess the little bow was not all that hungry, after all.  We didn’t last long and spent more time building rock piles and chasing a frog and hiking the muddy trails than fishing, but it was good to get out.  We quit early to go get an early dinner and see a movie, so it was a good day for all.  Lukas pushed my door open at 6:50 AM this morning—his bus comes at 7:04 AM.  Apparently, after the power outages I trusted my 11 year old to reset all the clocks in the house, and he did well, but he didn’t notice that my alarm clock was in PM not AM.  My alarm was set for 6:30 AM, but my clock was in PM mode.  Nice start to the day! 

Nice flow and color for nymphing in close quarters.

When I went to bed last night, after grading for a couple hours, I said I was going to reward myself with a longer trip today, maybe to NEPA again or at least Northampton County.  Well, after the rough start this morning, I called my dad to see if he wanted to hit the Wissy, but he had a dentist appointment or something.  Oh well, I figured, stick with the plan, just get a later start, and so I finally got my act together around 9 AM and drove to the Monacacy near Bethlehem.  I saw that the gage was up last night, but I figured it would continue to come down, and the clarity looked fishable—a good stain in the holes, but a nice green in the riffles where I predicted/hoped the fish would be.  Today was the first day with my new 10 foot 3 weight, and it got a good workout on day one out of the rod tube.  It took me a good thirty minutes to figure out what I had to do, but once I did, it was a really fun day.  I spent under 4 hours on the water and managed to land 10 fish and drop two others who succeeded in getting below me, downstream in heavier water.  I landed one really exceptional small stream fish, probably 16 inches, but another couple over 12, and my old friend “Silver Tag,” the 20 inch rainbow, now a good half mile upstream of where she was in the winter time, made another appearence.

Now that's how to break in the new 3 weight!

There were some tan caddis moving about, but in the bankside vegetation were little black caddis.  Clipping off what I had tied on, something pheasant tail-ish, I believe, I rigged with 4X, one of Sam’s bottom rolling caddis larva in green, and a size 14 purple CDC jig on the dropper, both were heavy tungsten sinkers for the higher water.  I do well on the Monacacy with purple flies in high water, anyway, and dark colors will arguably work in most stained creeks, but the presence of this little black caddis didn’t hurt my chances of getting love on the dropper fly.  When I walked up to the first run with some slightly deeper water, it was game on.  My first fish, let’s call him Little Tunny, looked more albie than wild brown, and he fought like crazy in the heavy water around me!  He took the purple jig, so maybe I was onto something.

False albacore?

In the same run, I hooked another hot fish, this one probably over 12 inches long, also on the dropper.  This run was not empty yet, however, as it produced one more, this last one a small stream little pig pushing 16 inches and as well-fed as his young cousins.  I had to go after this one; I just couldn’t keep him upstream of me long enough to coax him into a quieter seam.  When I got him down into some slower water, nearly waist deep, however, he still wasn’t done, almost coming through my legs to seek refuge in a log jam behind me before finally allowing me to slip the net under him.  My new rod was officially christened at that point, and I think it performed well, plenty of butt section to move the fish when necessary.  My old Teton reel, much like the Battenkill disc drag before Orvis started making a Battenkill disc drag, I suppose, also performed well.  I use this reel on Valley, so the drag rarely gets tested!

A couple other decent fish found freedom down there, but I landed the vast majority...

I continued to pick away at some smaller fish on my way upstream, finding them in any slightly deep riffles and behind any midstream obstacles or soft pocket within those riffles.  I caught a few on the rolling caddis by now, too, including a fish I now call Silver Tag—stupid, I did not think to confirm the tag number or assumed my photos would show them, but it certainly looked like her.  I proved that the new 3 weight rod could land a 20 inch fish, although a 20 inch wild brown is a different animal than a holdover rainbow, no matter how long she’s been in there.  The creek is stocked by a club upstream I learned from the fly fishing forum this winter when I inquired about Silver Tag’s presence in a wild, Class A trout stream.  She has wanderlust, for sure, even slid over a waterfall or two to get down here.  It was good to see her again, but the 11 inch brown I caught 10 minutes later fought just as hard.

Caddis larva and that purple jig and Silver Tag.

When I got to a fitting place to turn around, I walked back down the path past my car and, noticing I had another 30 minutes of fishing if I wanted, decided to limit myself to one or two more sets of bankside riffles downstream.  It was getting warm, and the sun was high enough to make shade a commodity, so the magic time was over.  I was also hungry and thirsty, I guess, because my casts, which until this point had been on the money, began to end up 3 or 4 inches too far and in the shrubs and low hanging trees.  I had two very small fish on the dropper for a brief moment, but that was all I had to show for this final 30 minutes of fishing.  No worries, the first 3 hours of the morning were pretty satisfying, so I should have left it at that.  This is my last week of classes, at least the class meetings part, until my summer part-time teaching begins.  I guess I will be very busy grading for a spurt, and then I will have a lot more time on my hands again.  I am hoping to get some bass fishing, both for the striped ones and those small of mouth, in the next couple of weeks, but I will likely hit the Wissy again with my dad on Wednesday before I plan the next longer excursion this week.  An odd weekend and a disorienting start to my Monday, but it all ended well.   Sleep well, Silver Tag, Little Tunny, and friends.  I will be back this spring, I am sure.

One is bigger while the other tougher by far.

April 26, 2019 – Just Wet Enough Today to Make All of Us Happy – Valley Creek

Not great light for fish photos today, but at least the valley is getting verdant.

With wet weather overnight and into the morning, I took a gamble that the Park would be pretty empty this morning, and I was right.  Even on a Friday, it is unusual to have Valley Creek to oneself in late April.  The creek barely came up with only a quarter of an inch of precipitation and only a brief shower to show for all the clouds during the four hours I spent on the water.  I had rain gear on, but I only needed it for an hour, and I was pretty darn hot by 2 PM when I called it quits.  There was a slight stain and good flows, but the star of the day was the cloudy weather and the bugs, which made the fish and, in turn, me very happy.  The olives are very small, almost midge size, but the fish were also reacting to the start of the caddis hatches.  I caught a mess of fish, probably 20 or more, and they took both olives and caddis nymph imitations, nearly in equal measure.  The only risers I saw were in the usual spot in the Park, sipping midges, but the other rises occurring all day seemed to come exclusively from fish in riffles chasing emergers.  I was set up to Euro-nymph, so I did not re-rig to try the dry, but I did swing the bugs in a few spots.  Tightlining in the riffles was working so well that I did not persist with the swing, however. 

Olives, caddis, and Valley averages with some better ones too.

I humble-bragged earlier this week that I hoped I hadn’t forgotten how to catch wild fish, and that did not seem to be a problem today.  I texted with Tom H. for a minute and just straight-up bragged that half of the first 10 fish I had caught thus far were over 10 inches, but as the day wore on, and karma dictates, the Valley average came out to play with more frequency.  Still, I caught about 6 out of 20 or more fish that were in that 10 to 11 inch range.  I kept hoping to find a really good one, but I did not.  The closest I got was miffing on one about 12 inches, turning him in the tailout of a deep hole that often holds a better fish or two.  The water temps are prime, so the fish are strong and willful to the end, putting up fun battles in shallow water.  I would have liked to have had my new 10 foot 3 weight in my hand, but the rod is so popular, I think Orvis is having trouble meeting demand!  It is on its way, so next week, maybe.  In the meantime, my light 9 footer got a good workout.

Half of my first 10 fish of the morning were decent fish of 10 to 11 inches, and I lost one about 12.

Like I mentioned above, by 2PM I was getting hot, so I walked back to the car with my rain jacket tied around my waist like some bon vivant.  A tornado watch was displaying on my phone on the ride home, in the sunshine again, but as I write this we are without power at home, so it was not without merit, apparently.  I am not sure how much rain is going to fall or if it will mess up the weekend or even in to Monday, but I will keep an eye on the weather and the stream gages.  Sadly, the creek down the street was supposed to get stocked this afternoon, and I kicked around the idea of fishing with the boy on Saturday, but maybe the flows will be okay by Sunday?  Even though flows never came up, today was just wet enough to keep most fisherman away, bugs feeling frisky, and trout feeling hungry, so although a Valley piggie still eludes me so far this season, I was pleased with my call today.

Not great light with the drizzle and dreary conditions, but some pretty (albeit blurry) wild browns.

April 25, 2019 – Well, I Had to Start Somewhere – Brodhead Creek

Wait there, rod, while I climb over this one and try not to get wet.

I took my first trip to the Brodhead for 2019, the first of many if history holds true.  The creek had been blown out, running 2000 CFS in Analomink on Saturday (close to 7000 downstream!), but today it was only about 300 CFS.  That is still sporty to fish the spots I wanted to nymph on a short line, essentially wading with my feet; I like about 200 or less, and 200 or less is often the average by this point in the spring.  Where I was today is better in May and June, only because fish are more accessible in 150 CFS, but I just wanted to poke around.  I could have waited a day, a week, but it was going to be a good weather day, perhaps even afternoon clouds and drizzle in the forecast, so figured I had to start somewhere.  I arrived about 10:15 AM to warmth and sun.  The water was sporty, but it had good visibility, so that made it infinitely more wadable.  Funny how being able to see your feet can instill much more confidence.  I was loaded for bear—no not a big articulated streamer or anything, but a pair of heavy, bigger bugs—hoping to find a good fish in a couple hard to reach spots.  Grabbing a sturdy stick from the flotsam a couple times for added insurance, I spent the first two hours, I bet, wading into some fishy but potentially hazardous (and snaggy) spots and coming up empty.  I got bounced, really bounced, one time as my stonefly and big hare’s ear jig were swinging up at the end of one drift, and I did not connect.  Other than that moment of excitement, I just broke a sweat and tested the waterproof capabilities of my waders above the waistline a couple times.

Fish number one after lowering expectations a click.

I saw a handful of larger mayflies early, but eventually it became clear that enough caddis were flying upstream that they could get noticed by fish even in higher water.  I decided that the next hour would be devoted to catching a fish, any fish, so I moved upstream to a run that sometimes gets stocked fish in addition to wild fish.  I added a caddis pupa on the dropper before stepping in here but fittingly enough landed a stocked brown and a stocked rainbow on a brown stone fly.  I then spent a few minutes resting and watching a flat pool where risers sometimes show.  Caddis continued to move about, but after 20 minutes or more there was nary a nose in the long, big pool, so I hiked up to one more favorite spot.

Stockies appreciated my big offerings.

Besides midges, the bug life in this last spot was not as prevalent, but the wading was easier and the water looked great.  I had to add quite a bit of weight, but in doing so I was able to work the edges of a long run.  It did not take long to hook a decent fish, who decided to leap twice almost immediately after being hooked.  This was a hot fish in great shape.  He was probably only 12 or 13 inches long, but he made the first couple of fish seem very wimpy.  I thought wild for sure on the stream this afternoon, but I am not sure with the pictures I have.  He had good fins, even the adipose looked good, red spots and paler coloration, but minus a real defined eye-spot I will say inconclusive.  The section I was in does not get stocked, but they get in there, even pig rainbows get in there from time to time.  At any rate, it was a beautiful fish and a fun battle, and a fitting way to end the first trip to my home away from home creek for the year.  I had to swing a streamer for a minute before quitting, and I had the same fish bump it and come for it a second time before he spooked for good.  Actually, I suppose that was a more fitting end for my mediocre first Brodhead outing of 2019?

Two shots of the last fish of the afternoon.  Three fish in 4 hours?  Better days ahead for sure!

April 24, 2019 – A Couple Silly Stolen Hours – Wissahickon Creek

A silly one today.

I guess it has been a minute since my last fishing trip.  I actually got a text from Reelin Ron asking if I was okay, which I appreciated.  All is good, though.  I just had a busy week and more company at home than usual.  Honestly, I don’t have the urgency of past years when I was unsure about how often I was going to get out fishing.  In fact, today was trip number 32 for the year already, and we’ve only just begun.  I had plenty to do besides fish last week, too.  The boy had off for ten days for spring break, and Tami had off for five days around Easter.  We had a couple dental appointments, a few social gatherings, plus I actually painted a room for my parents over the course of two days and was handsomely paid—a new toy, that redesigned Clearwater 10’ 3 weight rod, is on its way as a result.  Oh yeah, and I turned 50 years old on 4/20.  That was a trip to go to a bar to celebrate and have Young Kenny, Young Eric, Wardman, and other stars of Sick Days Fishing together in the same room!  Following a two day hangover, I did have the time on Monday, perhaps, but I still opted to rest up and spend some time with Tami since the boy had returned to school by then.  Tuesday is out this session with a couple classes and sometimes meetings that day, so even though I teach tonight in Center City, I took this Wednesday as my opportunity to get out for a couple hours.  It had to be local, the Mighty Wissy, but rain or not Thursday will likely be my first trip to NEPA for 2019 (Brodhead?). In the meantime, the Wissahickon provided me with my first silly fishing trip of the year.

Swinging the soft hackle during the caddis hatch chinned one...

After talking to a neighbor for a while, I finally got packed to go by 9 AM.  I arrived at the creek around 9:30 AM and took a walk to a favorite hole.  I planned to hunt around for fish that had moved into new spots or less obvious holes, but not before landing at least a handful of fish to get my mojo back.  As luck would have it, I walked into a sparse caddis hatch and, while no surface action materialized, I did spend the first 45 minutes of the morning nymphing up 7 or 8 fish and then catching another 5 or 6 on the swing, trying my best to imitate emergers.  I used the same two flies for the two hours I was on the creek, and after landing at least 25 fish in that short window, the flies looked pretty bad.  Both the purple CDC jig and the soft hackle (more like a sparse midge by 11:30 AM) continued to catch until I pulled the plug and called it silly and time to go home and rest for class.  The creek has not been stocked by the state since April 9, I believe, but there was a trout tournament in the city since then, and it appears that many fish are left, including some hot and plump brook trout, something the PFBC does not stock in the Wissy.  I did not catch any pigs or bonus tag fish, though I did briefly hook into some gold, which would have completed the cycle of brown, brookie, rainbow, and palomino. 

Some brook trout left over from the tourney (and the ratty purple jig)?

It was a good spring day, only mid-60’s while I was out, and plenty of fishermen and other enthusiasts were out enjoying the day.  I showed a couple little boys a fish in the net after I pointed out a bald eagle to them, and I played hopscotch (not literally) with three old timers who had success and kept some for the table.  I think the creek gets stocked for the last time this week, and it seems pretty warm already.  Fish were really in a fighting mood, not cold water sluggish, but a couple needed some time to revive too.  The problem with hot days this early in the year is no leaf cover to mitigate the effects of the hot sun.  The greenery is coming, and probably not too late, but if I fish next week, I will likely check water temperatures in the afternoon to avoid having to revive all of them!  Rain would be okay too, but flow and color were decent this morning.  I don’t expect a caddis hatch every time I visit the creek, but I was happy it happened today.  I caught a lot of fish in the first 45 minutes, but I was also able to find a few in some less likely spots too, so I scratched both itches.  Not bad for a man well into his middle ages.  I hope I haven’t forgotten how to catch wild trout, though! 

Bows and brown too, even a brief shot at gold...

April 11, 2019 – Several Decent Browns, Some of Indeterminate Origin – Manatawny Creek

On the low side, but not bad.

I drove just under an hour from home to bucolic Berks County today to fish the Manny for the first time this year.  I only fished for three hours, and I spent two in the car getting there and back, but I needed a change of pace and it was a successful outing, so the ride was worth it even if I had my doubts early on.  I almost stopped at the Skippack Creek as I drove over the bridge on my way west, but judging from the all the cars there on my return trip home, I would be willing to bet they stocked this afternoon.  In other words, my original plan was the right call.  I like the Manny, which is different than fishing the average stocked creek. There are a couple walk-in areas of the creek that allow access as it runs through private property, and I usually catch a couple wild fish and a lot of holdovers once I get away from the easy access points.  Even today, I saw at least three different vehicles parked near where I was fishing, but I only saw fishermen right by the road at the obvious spots when I was coming and going.  Not true today, but there are decent hatches, too.  In my experience, and in the sections I fish, they are especially good in the caddis department with sedges being plentiful for sure.  None of the creek has been restocked since the initial preseason stocking, so this also made it a good day to find a little solitude and to target unlikely pockets and cover looking for the odd holdover and wild fish. 

Several pretty browns.

A couple took a soft hackle on the swing, but most the bigger jig pictured below.

The wild population fluctuates with flow and water temps, but 2018 was a good one for wild fish.  I bet one-third of the fish I caught in certain areas were wild.  Many of them hold over for so many years that, minus the missing blue eye spot, it is often hard to tell a wild from a stockie gone rogue.  I landed at least 7 fish today and I dropped 4 others after short battles.  Most of the fish, all browns, looked like holdovers, and a couple may have been wild.  Besides losing three that hit tentatively in the cold water, my first fish of the day also came off because I tied my anchor fly on with a suspect knot that unraveled—tired this morning or low light in the garage or rushing to get on the road or all of the above.  At least I knew that the fish would cooperate even in the colder weather, and action was pretty steady.  The Manny, in addition to the some of the highlights mentioned above, also has some limestone influence from its tributaries, so it does not have the extreme temperature swings of freestoners and often fishes well into July.  I also waited until after 11:30 AM to start fishing, which helped today.  A cool breeze kept it feeling like early spring, and blue bird skies and bright sun also had fish a bit spooky in the shallow spots.  I spooked more suckers than trout, however. I guess what I am saying it that, minus significant active bug life, the conditions and the fishing were good today.

Size 12 purple jig in the absence of any hatches got their attention.

I had a particular hole or two in mind that I wanted to get to during my short fishing window, but I fished my way up to them, looking for wild fish in a few runs and undercuts that I know held them last fall.  It was on my way upstream that I lost the four fish, so I don’t know if the browns I fought were wild or not. The one rainbow certainly was not wild, but bows hold over well in the creek too.  Though barely hitting my purple CDC jig and soft hackle dropper, once hooked all the fish fought well, many jumping and taking good runs, probably blowing up a few small holes and pockets by making too much commotion before coming to the net.  I did a little surgery on one fish who had a size 10 hook nearly in his gullet, one of the few signs that other fishermen had been in my honey hole recently, but I probably should have left him be because he did not look any happier when he swam away.

Pale pretty one.

The first fish I landed took the soft hackle as I swung it under overhanging limbs and tight to a down tree, and I caught one more fish on the swing, but most were in riffles at least 18 to 24 inches deep.  I did dig two fish out of a very deep hole, as well.  I saw no risers, but I did spot a handful of small caddis adults flitting about, so things might be getting started soon.  It did not take long for 2:45 PM to arrive, and with a 10 or 15 minute walk back to the car, I did not retry any spots on the way back.  I will likely return in May or, more likely, after the final spring stocking, but I was pleased with today’s results.  I am itching to have a real adventure soon, but work has been busy and the boy is on spring break starting tomorrow afternoon, so this was about as adventurous as I could be this week. The statewide Opening Day on the horizon does offer a lot more options to choose from, perhaps even my first trip to the Brodhead or Lehigh River for 2019 in the next couple of weeks?

Fun fish, and beautiful, however they got here.

April 8, 2019 – Joe Loses His Sole but Has Success Striking Out Alone – Pennypack Creek

Bugs easier to photograph than fish.

Today was one of those gorgeous days that I have recently bemoaned.  The thermometer peaked at around 80 degrees, and the old summer convection wind even kicked up around midday—it is early April, mind you.  It did rain about a quarter of an inch last night, so that was a good thing, staining the water and bringing lower flows up a bit, and I almost loaded up early after bus stop to take a ride to the Lehigh or Oley Valley or something.  Instead, after talking to my dad over the weekend about his highs and lows fly fishing alone, and a text exchange this morning with the Silver Fox about his Sunday exploits, I decided to give another local freestoner a shot and try to get my dad on some more fish.  On a nice day like today, this section had the possibility of being less crowded, and it was, and I knew there would be holdovers and more fresh stockies in the mix.  I picked up my dad around 10 AM, and after spending some time re-rigging his new 9’ 5 wt. rod, we took a short ride to the creek.  Well, neither one of us tore them up, but he did catch two and dropped another while fishing independently of me, out of view even.  I did a bit of waiting around for him, not knowing he had backtracked towards our parking spot, so I never made it to some spots that I thought would be prime in these stained, higher conditions.  In his defense, he was a bit hobbled, in the process of losing the felt sole of one of his wading boots.  My dad doesn’t carry his phone because he’s a septuagenarian, I guess.  If it makes him feel better, I ran into another retired guy and asked him if he’d seen a devastatingly handsome older gentleman carrying a fly rod.  He had, and he pointed me in the right direction, but he also revealed that he does not carry his phone either.  When I called to see where my dad had gotten to, I had a nice conversation with my mom, who picked up his phone at home.

Some bright, ornery fatties.

As my collage shows, there were bugs about, including midges and a few crane flies—bring those walt’s worms to the Pennypack, methinks.  I landed 4 fish, and I dropped one other before netting.  As the collage also shows, these bows, the ones that have been around all winter or longer, don’t like to get their pictures taken.  I sent Tom H, the aforementioned Zorro Plateado, an emptying hand picture, and he replied, “I know that fish!”  He, too, has almost given up on photographing these slippery little piggies.  My largest two fish were over 16 inches, probably 17 inches, with white-tipped fins, a sure sign of fin regrowth on holdover fish.  A couple others looked more freshly stocked, and I turned a couple on half-hearted hits that may have been more recent fish just picking at the foreign buffet.  I got 3 of them on a grubby hare's ear, nearly a walt's worm, and one on the tungsten sj worm anchor.  My dad reported that his fish, which took a hare’s ear (more crane larva lovers?) were on the smaller side, but they were in cleaner, faster water.  The creek was muddy, and more muddy in the holes, so I too caught fish in moving, shallower water.

Took an SJ worm.  The fins, a sign that she's been in there a while.

No shade to chill out in, but when I found my dad, he was sitting on a park bench waiting for me.  He had also borrowed a wire tie from some landscaper’s tree work to keep that felt sole on long enough to complete today’s mission.  I was happy that he had some action on his new rod.  The fishing is not spectacular yet, but these warm days ought to wake things up even more.  I obstinately stick to the euro-nymphing, my self-imposed stocked fish rules that I seldom break, so with the light bites this month, I hope that the repeated drills under tougher conditions will pay dividends later in the month and into the spring when water temps wake the fish up and takes are much easier to detect.  My dad is due for a double digit day, a confidence booster.  Today was not that day, but he does get better each time, so a good day anyway, I hope.

April 6, 2019 – Where Eric Puts on Show in the Eleventh Hour – Wissahickon Creek

Eric made stuff happen this morning!

After making rather impromptu plans last night, Eric and agreed to walk down the street this morning and have a go at the neighborhood stockies.   With young kids, Eric likes to meet early, and sometimes that works out well.  Today, it was just over 40 degrees when we met at my garage, so it did take a while to warm up.  Spoiled by the action I had yesterday, midday of course, I was both lazy and reluctant to change up my plan too quickly, but Eric, far less lazy today and much more observant, took note of the many midges coming off the water during our last hour on the creek.  I saw them too, but was again reluctant (uppity, lazy?) to put on small bugs and an indicator to chase fish barely a week in the water.  That is, until Eric landed his sixth or seventh fish using that very method.  He probably caught 10 fish to my 1, and I only caught one because he let me step into his honey hole after I tied a zebra midge on the dropper of my euro rig.  Just to show off, Eric also caught one on my rod without the indicator.  Mitch!  Seriously, though, it was good to see him have a good day, and I didn’t have the patience to be good today, so I am glad he did.  Remember that when you hear me making fun of Eric (or Kenny or my dad or Ward) on this here blog it is only because they can take it and have a history of beating me at fishing once in a while!   Today was one of those days, and I was happy for a mitch....

He let me get one.  Midges were the ticket with all the live ones coming off this AM.

April 5, 2019 – My Kind of April Day – Wissahickon Creek

A few hot bows in the mix.  Triploids?  Holdovers?

I know it can’t just be me who prefers cooler, cloudier days over the kind of 70+ and sunny days we have already had a few times this month.  Perhaps it is because I live in such a populated area, a suburb not three miles from the Philadelphia border?  The competition for green space gets fierce on the nice days, so I get excited for the days when others work or Netflix and chill.  Or maybe I am old enough to remember when spring eased its way in more slowly?  Maybe it is just that nice days are rarely good fishing days even if it feels good to be outside?  I am not totally sure, but I do know that today was not a day for crowds, so it was my kind of day.  Heck, if it had rained just a little bit more, I may have chosen to fish Valley instead of the Wissahickon. 

Dark wintery water remains.

As a matter of fact, I almost picked up my 9 footer still rigged with a dry-dropper rig when I went to the garage after 9 AM this morning.  Instead, I went for the 10 foot nymphing rod and settled on a section of the Wissy for which I have a soft spot.  Even though this section is in Philly, it feels like a mountain freestoner, and with enough riffles and runs and pocket water, not to mention a couple springs, it stays cool enough to hold fish over in years like this one, wet years.  I caught a few this winter in the same general area, proof that stocked browns made it through August and September of 2018.  Because the boy was getting home by 2:30 PM today following an early dismissal, staying close and fishing an old favorite spot seemed like a good plan, and it was.

Grubby hare's ear, and bright brownie.

On my walk down to the creek, I noticed a retaining pond, one a young Lukas called the froggy pond, was getting rather low, so the rain coming tonight is probably a good thing.  The flows on the creek were still good, however, and visibility was good as well.  A steady, scouring rain is needed, though, to wash all the winter-dark rocks clean, as it still looks like mid-winter on the creek.  I started at a favorite hole where I am always confident that fish remain—even in July some years just before the water temps hit 70 every day.  It is deep and choppy with some back eddies and odd hydraulics, so unless the fish are in the mood to chase a spinner, plug, or streamer, they must be patiently nymphed out of there.  I patiently nymphed eight out of there with a tungsten hare’s ear on the dropper, before popping on an indicator and landing three more on the far side of the creek, and then finally clipping off the sj worm anchor fly and replacing it with a bigger jigged pheasant tail and taking two more really deep, including the only two browns I caught today (2 out of 20?).  Obviously, a lot of fish were dumped here, and most of them looked like they had not yet been caught—no obvious wounds, although there are always a couple dead fish around this time of year.  Fish were caught and released here, for sure, and mostly successfully.  One can’t really deep hook a fish on a trout magnet or spinners, so let’s assume it was that sticky paste that did them in?  Or do they get lost off stringers?  It remains a mystery.  When I can reach them, I often fish them out and chunk them up on the banks for the raccoons, like Saint Francis would do, you know?

More Hare's ear.

There were two other holes that I wanted to try, and the first one had a young family in it, so I left that one for another time.  I swung my flies through some riffles on the way down, and caught a couple more and then broke one off being too macho with the hookset as the flies swung downstream.  I retied and kept heading to the next spot.  The second hole I wanted to try, a short walk downstream from the occupied one, was productive too, so I ended there about 1:50 PM when I notched 20 fish in an even four hours on the water without a shred of embarrassment—it’s been a tough start to the season!  The last three fish I caught were on a rubber legged black stonefly, just a buggy looking thing that would get deep quickly.  These last three were in a pocket in a riffle and they were hot rainbows who leaped multiple times and did not easily come to the net.  After the tough, windy Monday where I had to rely on the bobber to catch anything, I really enjoyed these final tightlined fish in faster water.  Although I only used the bobber to catch 4 or 5 today, the hits on the Euro rig were still very light.  It barely broke 45 degrees at 3 PM before the rain started falling, the downside of my preferred weather, so these fish were the welcomed exception.  Maybe I should have thrown the big stonefly earlier in the day?  Are there enough rhetorical questions in this post, I wonder?

New-fangled browns are getting prettier.