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.