March 30 and April 1 – The Barometer Swings Both Ways, but Lady Luck Did Not Change Quite as Much – Wissahickon Creek

Saturday: Backseat fishing?

Man, Saturday was one of the warmest and sunniest days all year.  No wind, really, hot sun, and everyone in the Philadelphia area wanted to be outside.  The boy and I took a ride on the afternoon of Opening Day of trout, knowing it would be crowded due to the pleasant weather, but there was no way to predict that hundreds of cars would be parked at many of the access points for Fairmount Park.  No exaggeration.  Hundreds.  There were walkers, joggers, bikers, strollers, and fishermen in the mix.  We abandoned the first stop quickly and decided to circle back towards home after another drive-by of a second spot proved just as crowded.  I was not going to idle in the car and wait for a parking spot to open, and neither was the boy.  We ended up nearly across the street from our house, and we luckily found a parking spot and one decent spot on the bank to give the freshly stocked fish a go.  Did I mention fresh?  Yes, they were put in on Friday, probably after 3 PM.  I was encouraged, however, when we saw a few of the fisherman lining the holes reeling in fish.  The warm up must have had the new stockies feeling good.  We only brought one spinning rod, like mentored youth day, and the boy did ninety percent of the casting and fishing.  We had one rainbow hooked that came off, and the boy’s trout magnet got bounced 3 or 4 other times, but he swung and missed.  Not bad for 45 minutes in one limited spot from the bank, so we called it good instead of hunting around for more real estate.

Monday: Bluebird day and cold!

I swore I was going to leave the creek in my neighborhood alone for a few days, but I only had a couple hours today to get out, so I fished nearly the same spot today.  Unlike Saturday, or even Sunday, which was rainy but still warm, today did not break 50 degrees, and the wind blew pretty much all day.  A classic cold front kind of day, and the fish acted accordingly.  I managed a handful in a deep, quiet hole with small bugs under an indicator.  Even then, the hits were barely distinguishable from the bottom at times.  I turned a few that I thought were snags, in fact.  I probably could have stood waist-deep in the cold and caught a dozen this way, but I wanted to have a little more fun.  In the end, I could not dredge anything out of the deeper pockets and runs where I enjoy fishing on warmer days, but I sure tried.  A few other fishermen were out and seemed to quit rather quickly.  They were probably smarter than me.  I earned my 5 fish, my suntan, and my windburn today!  Better days to come, I hope?

Slow and deep meant fish, but it was a cold day to stand waist-deep in the wind watching a bobber barely move!