May 2, 2019 – Same Creek Different Day, Some Good Company – Wissahickon Creek

Hooked up!

Considering the number of stocked fish I caught in the last few trips to the Wissy, I have been wanting to get my dad back out with the fly rod.  He has fished a couple times on his own while I was working or off chasing wild fish somewhere, and he has had some successes.  He hasn’t had a good double-digit day, however, one that would help him hone his strike detection and fish landing skills through pure repetition.  With fish sort of acting funny ahead of this summer weather and approaching fronts, today was not that day either, but I think I counted him landing 7 trout and one bass and at least one sunfish, and he had a couple other trout hooked too.  It was certainly a good day, then, if not an exceptional day.

A few took his hare's ear, but we had to go small after a while.  Nice bright fish, happy in 60 degree water.

I fished about 57 percent of the time, maybe 54 percent, maybe less, as I was really trying to coach him today.  Taking cues myself from a friend who guides, like Sam, I try to spend a little time and then walk away for a while too.  I am still learning how to modulate that level of attention, and I am still learning how to process what I do, often without thinking, into conscious thoughts and words!  I am guilty still of shouting out, “There!” once and a while, when I know a fish has the fly but my sport does not….  This is good for me, then, as well.  Teaching writing makes me a better writer.  Arguably, writing about fishing makes me think about what I do in similar ways.

Pretty city, yo.

My honey hole in this particular area was occupied when we arrived around 9 AM, so we had to walk up to a couple B list holes, but they too were loaded up with fish, thankfully.  The hits were very light today with few exceptions.  What a difference a day makes.  Yesterday, the fish were all over anything that looked like a caddis pupa or larva, but in order for my dad to catch his last 4 fish, I had to tie a size 18 soft hackle off the back of his hare’s ear.  I took the opposite approach for myself, tying on a double-beaded black stonefly, part of a birthday present from Eric, I believe, in order to dredge a few decent browns and bows out from the deep.  It was good to have to work for them, especially with my new rod—better for me than my dad, of course.  I wanted him to have it easy like I did on Wednesday (minus the school kids!) but he was happy anyway, and we got off the water before it got too hot, so it was a good day to be outside, period.

Thanks, Eric.  I went bigger and deeper for my fish.