May 30, 2019 – Gray Skies, Blue Lines, and Silver Foxes – A SEPA Tributary

Not a day for backcasts, but bow and arrow.

Tom H. and I poked around one of his favorite SEPA blue lines today.  We did something similar in late December of 2018 at a different spot, but today was much more successful.  The so-called unsettled weather continued today, but besides a couple brief showers, we did not run into the heavy rain until we were nearly back to my house.  There were signs in the verdant State Game Lands that heavy storms had passed through in the night or early morning, but the little trickle we fished was in good shape—a bit more stained than normal, so many fish ate the nymph, but not so stained that an equal number of fish didn’t look up for the dry.  Besides three fish that I caught near the end of our trip on a bugger, tied on mainly because a little brookie finally mangled my rig beyond repair, we stuck to the dry-dropper and had steady success.  We fished from about 9:40 AM to 2:40 PM, give or take a few minutes on either end, and we just sort of slowly picked the water apart, taking turns at prime spots.  Because we fished together, we were present for most of each other’s highlights, and even did some netting for one another.

A little blueline adventure begins

Tom may have lost the largest brookie of the morning, but he also managed to land the largest too.  In both cases, I was ready with the net, but only one fish made it in for a measure.  It was over 10 inches, so a good native fish not all that far from civilization.  We also caught brook trout as small as 4 inches on the dry fly.  Tom has not caught many brown trout here, but today we landed at least five of them, and three were good small stream fish and pretty to boot.  Tom had a lot of fish take his Royal Wulff, and I had a few take a parachute olive that I already had rigged on my 8 foot 3 weight rod.  Because of the heavier flow, I re-rigged a couple times, landing on the most effective nymph, a tungsten walt’s worm jig with a hot spot, but the larger fly I was using to float it ended up being mostly an indicator—I say mostly, however, because a few brookies did manage to choke down the size 12 hi-vis stimulator too.

Perhaps the best of each today.

It was humid, so we expected mosquitoes, but I only had one bug bite, and I think it was from a horse fly, anyway. There were caddis, though not heavy, and we even spotted a couple sizes of sulfurs here and there.  I saw no risers that we didn’t coax to rise, but with clearer water conditions, there were enough bugs around to make risers a possibility.  There was a particular stretch of water, about 500 yards, that was the most fishy looking and productive—it just had more holding water, not straight riffles.  Plunge pools were a bit disappointing, but then again a dry-dropper is not the perfect tool for a plunge pool when whitewater is heavier than normal.  When I tossed a small bugger for the last 20 minutes, I did pull three out of plunge pools, so next time Tom and I might have to fish different methods to maximize returns.

Some decent dry fly fish.

That said, we landed at least 30 fish between us and dropped a mess more that were too tiny or too smart to see the inside of a net.  There are all kinds of year classes of brookies, and Tom even landed a 4 inch brownie too, so they also seem to have had good spawns last year and the previous one too.  When things started getting skinnier and less fishy looking, we decided to turn back and hunt for the road.  It is always surprising how quickly the car comes into view when you are just walking on gravel or asphalt and not ducking limbs and climbing over deadfalls in the streambed. 

That walts did it for me, but Tom had many take a hi-vis Wulff dry

We made the call to wear waders because it was cooler and wetter when we arrived, but peeling off the breathables at the car was a swampy affair, so we may have gotten away with wet wading today.  After a visit to the truck stop for some caffeine and snacks, we made good time home, until we ran into the heavy rain for the last several miles.  I will check gages tonight to see if the flows warrant another short trip closer to home tomorrow, but I guess I should do some work too, so who knows.  Tom had the week off, so he may have done this trip alone this week anyway, but I am sure he liked having the company.  I too enjoyed the company and the opportunity to explore a new creek.  It was a fun little adventure and a good fishing day despite the crazy weather.

Really pretty fish from really pretty creek.

May 29, 2019 – Certainly not Canada, but Still Some Time Out of Doors – Wissahickon Creek

Some weekend mornings in the woods.

Kenny reminded me over the weekend that most years I would have been in Canada bass fishing for a week starting Memorial Day weekend.  I opted not to go this year, which I may have explained here before.  Besides experiencing diminishing returns over the last few years, my new job affords me a lot of unstructured time to fish, as you may have noticed, but often not 5 days in a row, at least not until I am released for the summer after graduation in early June.  As the boy get older too, it’s also nice to have a little more cash in hand for family trips.  I will get out for bass, for sure, perhaps even with Young Kenny the next time our schedules mesh—I was invited on June 3, but I am, god help me, chaperoning the sixth grade school trip to Dorney Park (at least I will see trout in Cedar, right?).  It was too hot to trout fish most of the weekend, and the weather was very unsettled.  Tornadoes touched down in Berks County just last night.  I did get the boy out in the woods at least three mornings over the weekend.  We just hiked before it got hot(er), tracked a deer or two, hunted for tadpoles, and dug worms to feed to the prespawn sunfish.  We even witnessed two good smallmouth playing “finsie” in the downtown Ambler stretch of the Wissahickon Creek on one particular walk.

Not a chalkstream, just spooky City runoff.

I thought I might meet Hus on the creek today to give him the fishing gear we collected for his students, but they are off to go camping until Friday.  Cool school or what?  Instead, I actually met my parents out for a walk along Forbidden Drive.  I had some flies for my dad, so I invited him out fishing, but he had plans to walk with Mom, it appears.  The creek was not on fire, by any means, but I caught a half a dozen panfish and one rainbow so that I could quit.  I fished for my parents’ benefit for a few minutes while we talked, but of course I landed the only trout of the short trip as they were walking back away from the creek towards the path.   I stuck to two holes because it was already too hot at 10:30 AM for me to even consider hoofing it down to a couple other spots.  If this heat remains in place, the game might be over much sooner this year than the last couple.  I did not take a temp reading today, but the gage in my neighborhood is hitting 70 degrees almost daily now.  Even in the shade and better holding water in the City, the end is near or already upon us.  Tom H. and I are going to try and stay cool tomorrow and chase brookies for a few hours, and my dad wants to hit the Poconos, so more fishing to come in the next few days, I hope.  A cool down after one of these storms would be nice!  I seem to remember that is how it is supposed to work?

May 24, 2019 – When Life Gives You Chocolate, Make Chocolate Milk - Valley Creek

Blue skies, brown water.

Another hot day was predicted for Friday, and I only had until 11:30 AM to fish because the boy had an early dismissal ahead of the Memorial Day weekend, so thank goodness for more rain in SEPA….  Only half-kidding, of course.  Enough with the rain, I say!  Even though I am predominately a nymph fisherman, I can totally empathize with those who would love to get after trout rising to the numerous hatches present this time of year, and I am itching to fish the Brodhead, Lehigh, the Lack, and so on, but I have tried to embrace the ever-present chocolate water.  By targeting small streams like Valley that recover more quickly, and chunking a streamer or appreciating the ability to euro-nymph instead of dry or dry dropper, I have put together a memorable spring of 2019.  I did not throw the streamer today, and I did not land another 19+ inch fish, but I did land one that measured 16 and another that was 13, so a very solid day for Valley Creek.  Both fish took a size 12 frenchie in deep riffles, where fish are still taking caddis emergers, I assume.  Nevertheless, I only caught one fish on a caddis pupa on the dropper, which I had tied on specifically to address this possibility.  I had a bunch of little fish come off the big jig, which was to be expected, but most of the ones that stayed on the hook were good fish, beating the Valley average.

Not 19 and change, but a 16 inch hen, the second fish of the day.

I probably caught 10 other fish in addition to the two bigger ones, and the trip was mostly bookended by these better fish.  I arrived early for me on a school/bus stop day, before 8 AM, and the water was dirty, showing signs of being up higher in the night, but back in its banks and cleaning up.  I spent a little time in deep holes, but most of my effort and concentration was spent in the deeper riffles and runs.  My first fish of the morning was a Valley average of 8 inches, but the second one was a beauty.  I considered taking the measure net off my pack this week but forgot again this morning, so I had an accurate measure of a millimeter short of 16 inches on this big, healthy fish.  As with many big fish I have caught nymphing, the take was very subtle, just a pause in the drift, but when I set the hook, it was clear this was a nice one.  She just bulldogged and dug for the bank on the other side of the creek until I got her head out of the water long enough to slide the net under. 

6 + 10 and 8 + 5.  Yay, math.

I kept moving and covered a good bit of water in a short time, probably 2.5 hours total.  As I mentioned, I was using bigger bugs, so I missed more hits than normal and watched more small fish jump off the line, but I was content with the possibility of sticking a better fish or two, so I stuck with the plan.  I landed two more in the 11 inch range before my persistence paid off with a gorgeous 13 inch male.  Like his bigger cousin downstream, this fish did not do anything acrobatic, but it was clear right away that I had stuck a good fish based on all the digging for bottom and nearby cover.  It was getting close to 11:00 AM, so the heat was coming, along with a breeze carrying more pollen than necessary, when I decided to turn back downstream.  I did catch two more little fish in a hole I skipped on the way up, but the two good fish really provided the soft beginning and end to a good morning.  I still await better, clearer flows on my bigger, favorite creeks, but I was grateful to little old Valley for providing a banner month of May.  The title says it all.

He would have made my day any other month!  Beautiful fish!

A little clearer than the first shot?

May 20 and 21, 2019 – Isolated Storms, Check Your Gages, a Reprieve from the Heat, Joe Makes Stuff Happen – A Couple of SEPA Creeks

A little dirty and way up from overnight rain.

It was not until I drove over the main branch of the Perkiomen Creek yesterday that I realized that my plan was a wash.  The ground was dry at my house, and the forecast on the hot Sunday that preceded was for a minor chance of rain, at best.  I now recall seeing some flashes of heat lightning in the west around dusk on Sunday night, but I did not pay them much mind.  I didn’t look at USGS water gages Monday morning either.  I just drove west.  Out of ideas, I guess, knowing that the bigger creeks I would like to be targeting right now were a mess, I headed towards the Oley Valley again.  The number of wild fish I found, albeit small, on the Manny had me wanting to try another spot or two and find a better one or two or three wild fish.  When I crossed the Perk, however, I found milk chocolate flowing between its banks.

Pretty, but barely 10 inches short.

In my head, I came up with a plan B but kept on driving, hoping that the floods were very isolated.  When I arrived at the Manatawny, I was disappointed but not surprise because that looked as bad as the Perk, so on to plan B, which was only 15 minutes away.  Plan B was also a mess, even though it was small tributary.  How did I miss so much rain?  I know that even a tertiary perusal of the gages in the state would have shown a lot of color, so even old men make rookie mistakes or get lazy sometimes!  There was construction, a good 4 mile detour to get to my plan C, so I gave this second creek a shot, anyway.  I eventually landed one 10 inch wild fish on a black streamer, so I quit and resigned to drive the extra miles to plan C.  Well, the road was completely closed, it seems, not at just one end but both ends.  It was getting hot by late morning, and I didn’t want to get further frustrated, so I just accepted a leisurely ride home through farm country as my reason for being out today.  Don’t folks just take Sunday drives (on a Monday)?

Hooked up to one that didn't want to come up.

Tuesday started out cool and breezy, so I decided to call my dad and propose a short visit to the Wissahickon before I had to teach this evening.  Retired, he was just getting out of bed at 8:30 AM, but I waited for him.  We got to the creek a little before 10 AM, and I liked what I saw.  Good flows, a stain remained from the last rain storms, and there were even swallows in the air nipping at bugs.  The last time we were in this same area, we hiked down to a favorite spot, only to find another fisherman in it.  Today, it was vacant, and we probably caught 25 fish or more from this stretch of creek before working some riffles and pockets on the walk back upstream to the take out point.  We caught a handful more on the walk up too, including my dad’s first fly rod fish without the bobber!

A size 12 frenchie was eaten many times.

The water temperatures are over 60 degrees, but the fish were in good shape and feisty still.  I will likely check water temps and pick the right days if I return to the Wissy again this year.  There are obviously a ton of fish left and not many fishermen targeting them.  All the fish took either a hot spot Frenchie, my anchor fly (and my dad’s bottom fly too) or a soft hackle pheasant tail on the dropper.  I worked through this run and pool at least twice, catching fish on the first fly and then more on the second and then still more by adding a single split shot and digging a couple more out from the deep.  Once we got my dad’s weight and depth correct, he caught fish too.  It was an even mix of bows and browns, and we each tangled with a golden too.  Browns, who seem to know what’s up on the survival front sooner, were already in the shallow riffles and pocket water chasing caddis emergers and the extra oxygen.  The better fish, a couple 14 inches, were rainbows, however.

Success with and without.

The most fun, probably for both of us, was the slow walk upstream picking apart riffles and pockets that few would choose to target.  By this late in the season, there are plenty of fish, mostly browns, where you would think they would be—in other words, a long way from the holes where they were originally dumped.  I tried early in the trip to coach my dad into catching one without the indicator on his own 9 foot 5 weight, but while I’d given him one of my indicator leaders and some bugs that should have worked, we had to play with weight and tippet size.  Eventually, I retied his rig with some 5X and a tungsten frenchie, which worked well for him under the bobber.  On the walk up, however, I coached him using my rod, and he hooked two and landed one tightline nymphing some good water.  A few times, I grabbed the rod and tried to show him how fast I work through likely holding water, only to hook fish in the process.  I caught at least three more when I was supposed to be teaching him!  I am still working on my guiding skills, obviously.  I was happy for him when he landed one and, like many who have success with this nymphing method, he vowed to stop using a float as an indicator.  I don’t blame him for, in the right conditions, it is probably the most efficient way to catch fish feeding subsurface.  Had I really concentrated today and fished hard, it may have been an even sillier day than it was!  After the hot and humid weekend into Monday, today would have been great even if the fish weren’t cooperating so nicely.

A soft hackle pt on the dropper was also eaten many times.

May 16, 2019 – What Are the Odds of Not Finding One Decent One? – Manatawny Creek

Many little wild fish and lots of bugs right now.

Back to reality today, I took a relatively short ride and fished the Manny in Berks County.  I had a good day that was encouraging for a very particular reason.  I did a poor job of explaining myself last time I posted about this creek.  I did not picture any wild fish then, only a few nice looking stockies and perhaps one nice holdover, but I referenced wild fish being in the mix.  Well, like today, half of them were 4 inches long and got a long distance release from bigger flies.  Today, I made sure to land and photograph a few parr and one about 8 inches long.  A dry dropper with a midge, and it is possible this year to catch a dozen dinks, methinks.  Conditions permitting, though, there are sections of the creek that may experience a spike in decent wild fish this fall and winter, I hope.  I did already encounter more last year than the previous two or three.  The wet 2018 and beginning of this year may have assisted a successful spawn.  It is also equally possible that the successful spawn took place in the limestone tribs, and the high water simply washed the parr down into the Manny?  Either way, I will take them.

A hot one or two in the mix.

The bugs are there too.  I saw sulfurs, two types of caddis, and midges (not to mention mosquitos already).  The water was still heavily stained today, and flows were higher than normal, so the purple jig worked wonders on stockies and wild fish, especially because little black caddis are still present,  The sulfurs must also have them looking because a frenchie with a hot spot scored a lot too. I landed at least 12 stocked and holdover browns, no rainbows again (this seems like a creek that should only get rainbows as far as stocking!), and landed 8 or 9 little wild fish, losing a handful of tiny fish too.  I felt like I had the right bugs on, and I certainly should have landed one decent wild fish—the odds were with me, but I had to settle for a few hot holdover fish that really separated themselves from the pack with wild fights and leaps.  No eye spots, and no confirmed wild keepers to be found, but the season is young. 

Frenchie with a hot spot.

The creek will often stay cool enough to fish into July, at least early in the morning, because of the limestone influence and the tree canopy.  A major reason for choosing this particular creek today, besides the usual solitude I find on certain sections, especially during the week, was that it was going to get warm and sunny, so I knew I would find some shade.  I also like hunting for holdovers, who end up in the right places by now, tucked up under overhanging trees, in pocket water, gliding in the deeper riffles.  The parr were up under the trees too, but some of them were out there competing with the transplants too.  As I said, plenty of bugs to go around right now.  I put roughly 3 hours in, so I was pleased with the results, even if, against all odds, one decent wild fish eluded me.  It was stained enough to throw a streamer, but I only brought the 10 foot 3 weight, and I was okay with my choice in the end.  It was hot, humid, and buggy on the walk out, but the ride home with the windows down (and no more manure smell) made for a cool, comfortable ride home on a beautiful spring afternoon.  Almost summery tomorrow, so I don't mind having to work....

If it stops raining I will retire this nymph, I promise.

May 14, 2019 – In Video Game Parlance, Did I Just Defeat Valley Creek (or at Least Win the Level 10 Boss Battle)? – Valley Creek

Boss battle ends in new Valley Creek PB.

If you look at the comments in my last post, I reprimanded Ron about jinxing my chances of rousing an apex predator at Valley Creek this week.  It has been a while since I’ve seen a really good one, perhaps since late January of 2018 when I had a big fish take the streamer, and I nymphed a big fish in September too, but the fish I landed today eclipses all them, even my former Valley Creek personal best that was over 18 inches.  “They are in there,” is something you often hear about Valley Creek monsters, but the reality is that the average good fish in this small creek is 9 to 12 inches, and the average fish period is much smaller. Today, I made all the arrogant moves that should have spelled disaster:  I broadcast that I was going to look for a good fish this week, I brought a gun to a knife fight (my 5/6 streamer rod not my usual small stream rod), and I even clipped the measure-net onto my pack in order to capture an accurate measurement of any big fish I did land today.  Cocky, in retrospect, but in all honesty I was prepared to catch nothing. I was going to live or die by the streamer today in the falling stained water.

The tale of the tape.

Rain.  High water.  Both are something we have had to contend with for the better part of 18 months.  I had another trip with Kenny on the Susquehanna cancelled on Monday!  As a result, I have embraced the small stream fishing this year, mostly out of necessity, but in the process I have better “learned” a few creeks, and learned them in seasons where I am usually fishing elsewhere.  Small stream fishing also means a lot of small fish, and I have had my fill.  I was delighted to land some good fish on Monocacy this year, but I may catch nothing over 12 inches next time.  My average at Valley has been a respectable 10 to 11 inches this year, but those young of the year will be really hungry by fall, so it could easily dip back to 5 inches.  Why do I share this?  Well, I think to justify the idea that I am in a place where I can take a fishing trip and impose rules on myself.  This morning, I put one rod in the car, unlike last week where I began with the streamer, had success, but then couldn’t help myself from grabbing the nymphing rod to round out the day.

High. Stained.

It could have ended badly.  I had a slow start with but one half-hearted bump for the first hour of fishing.  With low light from clouds, I could not even see when I had disturbed a fish or even got a look.  I just kept moving.  The water was falling and clearing from 80 CFS (20 is average this time of year) so eventually as it got brighter out, I started to see signs of life in the riffles, especially—a little something, you know, for the effort.  I landed two fish in the 11 inch range, and I dropped two about the same size or smaller, so about 90 minutes into the trip things were looking up and my confidence growing.  I said I would live or die by the streamer today, but I didn’t intend to invoke cardiac arrest as the way I would suffer defeat.  Man, not long after I landed and released a smaller fish (though one I would have been happy to catch on the 3 weight while nymphing) I twice moved a pig of a fish!  I know this one, as I may have had him or her hooked once last year, I believe.  This fish came out from an undercut bank once and nipped the back of the streamer.  Not getting the hooks, the fish also charged after my second offering and refused it, just giving me the finger and rolling its entire wide-flanked body over the path of the streamer before shooting back to cover.  That was my chance, two chances, I thought!  Besides heart palpitation and one or two expletives, I was okay, though.  I wanted to move a good fish or two, and I did.  In a way, seeing this fish could have been the highlight of my day, perhaps like being followed by a huge muskie.  This was a Valley unicorn, probably 17 or 18 inches, bright and wide.

For comparison?

This was not the Valley unicorn, however.  That is pictured three times in this post!  I am just grateful that I got some keeper photos, as I have not had much luck documenting good fish in the wet weather and low light this month.  In the back eddy of a deeper hole, this fish stopped it dead, deep, so unlike the first pig I moved, I did not see this one for a good 30 seconds of the fight.  He just dug in after stopping my retrieve like I had snagged a log.  One good thing about fighting a big fish in a small stream is that he had few options on where to go.  I also had the right rod, a rod with some backbone, and I was using 10 pound test fluorocarbon for the tippet, so I felt okay taking the fight to him.  For a boss battle it ended pretty quickly, I think, but I was in that total concentration zone where time is relative.  When I slipped the measure-net under him, he gave up enough to allow me to take pic for Sam of his Roberdeau streamer in the monster’s mouth.  Then I got a couple to show the length, 19 without closing his mouth or pinching the fork of the tail or anything, so perhaps 20 on any other day!  And, finally, before letting him go, I propped his ass-end up on the back of the net and held him around the middle to try and show the beauty.  When I landed a Valley fish of 18 inches a few years ago, the fish fought and looked like he was 100 years old in fish years.  The fish today was in prime shape and hopefully went back to scaring mice and parr this evening.  Wow, is all I can say.  Wow.

The mighty roberdeau did the trick.

May 10, 2019 – Went Out Chunking a Streamer for a Good One and Ended Up Just Having a Good Day – Bushkill Creek

Had to head for the bank to capture even this mediocre shot.

I fished the Bushkill today for the first time since February of this year, and the conditions were not dissimilar: high and stained!  The difference today was that the water temps are now prime, and the fish are a lot more active than in late winter.  I had a plan to search for a good fish, even if it meant not getting one, perhaps not getting any.  I have not yet spent a day tossing a streamer this spring, and today seemed like it was going to be the perfect day to do that.  In all honesty, I did go back after a short break at my car and fish the same stretch—working downstream the first time, upstream the second—with my nymphing rod before going home.  Blame that on the presence of many little black caddis and some large tan caddis too.  I caught fish both ways, but only stocked rainbows, probably 5 of them, while nymphing to close out the afternoon.  Again, with the presence of those dark caddis and the stain, my last purple CDC jig did the trick, even at 1:30 PM and in brighter sun.  I spent the first 3 hours of the trip as I had intended, however, throwing a big streamer, a rubber-legged, bulky, tungsten jig in size 6, and I had a lot of fun and moved a lot of fish, mostly in light rain and drizzle.  The water was pretty stained, so I saw signs and flashes of many of the fish I disturbed, but the water was too dirty to know if any of the fish that I missed or who didn’t commit or who just lurked behind were the big ones I was looking for today.  

Cold water, warm air.  I didn't notice it had gotten hot since I was in shirtsleeves and soaked by 1 PM.

That said, I did catch at least 10 fish on the streamer, including a beautiful wild brown who has not passed up many big meals.  I did not measure, as I could barely handle him once landed, but I would say just about 15 inches.  This was a hot fish, even on my fast action 9 foot 5-6 weight that I use primarily for streamers.  He hit like he wanted to kill the streamer and then went into the air twice before trying to dig into every boulder, log, bedrock shelf he could find.  As I mentioned, I had a heck of a time getting a good photo.  He would not quit, and it was raining and my hands were wet and my phone was acting squirrelly, but I got a couple shots.   A good wild fish cleverly hidden in plain sight within a city park, you know?  In addition to this quality brown, I caught the fattest brook trout I can ever remember catching.  It fought like neither rainbow nor brown, so I had no clue what I had on the line.  The fish battled a little like a smallmouth bass, actually!  I was hoping big, fat brown, but I still enjoyed this bonus baby, probably a holdover and courtesy of the Forks TU chapter?  I caught one other smaller brookie on the streamer too, so brookie, brown, and rainbow all decided to take the big meal when offered.

Big, fiesty brookie!

I had a few tentative bumps when I first got started, but as I worked through my repertoire of streamer approaches, I finally hit on the most effective today.  All but two rainbows, so 8 out of 10 fish, plus two dropped fish, all took the streamer as it was rather violently and quickly stripped.  I gave it a couple seconds to sink from, say, 10 AM to 12 noon in front of me, and then stripped the heck out of it as it did its swing.  No need for a strip set, as they were on it, and my strip to keep the fly moving ended up imparting action AND hooking the fish.  This is a lot of fun, almost like tossing the old Rapala back in the day (not that long ago, honestly), only the streamers usually don’t fall apart or lose pieces when they bounce against a rock on the retrieve!  

Educational signs, bows, hawk watch.

As mentioned above, I was fishing a city park (suburbs to a city guy like me), one I have not fished in a while. I wish I had more city parks nearby where visitors needed to be educated about the presence of wild fish!  The educational signs, an example pictured in the collage to the left, are nice and maybe somewhat effective maybe? I still find it puzzling, though.  So, on one hand a local organization stocks over wild browns with these brookies, and on the other it does a lot of stream work, advocacy and watchdog work with the local businesses, one that notoriously dewaters the creek when its pumps go out, and education to protect and preserve these wild fish.  They are not alone; TU chapters all over the state, country do this too.  I guess like the Fish Commission they are all threading the needle.  Enough editorializing today (this is not a Deep Thoughts, after all).  Since fishing was good, I considered moving to another one of my spots, places where I have caught or moved or lost really good fish, but those caddis in all the bushes and bouncing around the water convinced me to take it easy and just stay put.  After working through the most productive-looking water, some of it better nymphing water than streamer water, I walked back to my parking spot, refilled my water bottle, and grabbed my nymphing set up.  I only had another 40 minutes to fish, but I didn’t have a long stretch to work, anyway.  I was encouraged when I landed two rainbows on the CDC jig pretty quickly, but I had to work a good deal harder for the last three fish of the afternoon.

Some nice looking rainbows too (white tips indicating fin regrowth)

I ran into one other fisherman, a young guy just getting started on his fly fishing journey.  We talked for a minute as I passed behind him to move upstream and target one last hole, the place I started this morning.  I tried to give a little advice since he was friendly and asked how I was doing, so I hope he landed a couple this afternoon.  For me, I ended up landing one more rainbow before hitting a convenient place to climb out of the creek and head for the parking lot.  The nymphing gave my shoulder a rest, sort of, from all the chunking and stripping, but prime time had passed, and the boy was likely heading for dismissal from school soon, so I started for home about 2:45 PM.  I technically did not live or die by the streamer today as intended when I left the house, but I had a lot of success and a lot of fun.  Even if the piggies stayed in their lairs, I found a couple little giants, and there are certainly worse things to be doing on a rainy Friday than tangling with healthy fish in high water.

This is me trying to get a good shot, and him never staying still!