July 15, 2019 – Uncle Sam and I Sneak One in Around Family Time – Centre County Limestoners

Let the nymphing begin.

I may have told the story here about how my wife and her friend Sharon set Sam, her brother, and me up on a fishing man-date some years ago.  My wife and Sharon have been friends for a long time, maybe 15 years or more, both public school teachers together for a time, and both have precocious and easy-going only children who still get along well to this very day.  In passing, I knew that Sharon’s brother fly fished and worked at fly shops, but he was not in the area at the time, not even in PA.   One Christmas, Tami surprised me with a nice box of custom flies from the vice of Sam Galt, now back in State College, and the generous Sam added a note about how the flies also came with a free trip should I make the drive out to Central Pennsylvania that spring.  The rest has been documented here.  In the beginning, I was getting back into fly fishing after a long hiatus, mostly to feed a surf fishing addiction, so I was basically getting an instructional guided trip by a guide on his days off—the only payment, a few quality beers from home, maybe a classy Nittany Minimart lunch in waders and linoleum-puncturing spikes, perhaps my notable wit.  Now, it is more like two guys fishing together, although one is still quite a bit more skilled than the other if you know what I am saying.... 

Family vacation first.

Because our son and Sharon’s daughter, Sam’s niece, have known each other for their entire lives, they get along very well, and both are a pleasure to travel with, so Tami and Sharon have done short vacations together with the kids.  This year, our families, including Sam and Sharon’s mom, decided to rent an Airbnb in Centre Hall, PA for a few days.  Everybody wins, you know?  Tami and Sharon get to see each other, Sharon’s mom gets to see her busy son (and her kids and grandchild together), the tweens have each other to play with, and I get at least one morning with Sam in some great summer fishing conditions.  We actually spent a lot of time together, my family and Team Galt, including a couple meals, some beers on the farm house porch, and Sam’s tour of the Poe Paddies via the scenic route—more scenic for the lead car in our caravan as, ironically enough in this year (okay, two) of the rain storm, the gravel roads were a dusty mess.  Sam asked when we arrived at our first stop, Did you see the flock of wild turkeys?  I slowed down.  To which I replied, We saw nothing but dirt and brake lights, bruh. 

Plenty of solid fish in the mix.

Sam was splitting time between home, only 15 minutes away, where he got to sleep in his own bed, and our rental, but he took the three days off to spend quality time with his family, who drove the 3 hours and change from SEPA to visit him.   We contemplated taking the kids to a private stretch one afternoon, and Lukas and I spotted fish for a while in Bellefonte along the walkways, but Sam and I ended up only fishing Monday morning for about four hours.  I could not visit Central PA and not fish, and Sam and I did not connect this spring like we did the last couple, but both of us were trying to spend time with the families this week.  Call it good karma, but on the day we did fish we had a 30 fish morning with two or three fish over 17 inches, one pushing 19, so a very successful outing for a leisurely vacation time excursion.

My best of the morning.

So Tami could have my car to get coffee in the morning and so forth, Sam picked me up at our rental farm house at 5:30 AM.  I was up by 4 AM, drinking coffee after one of those bad night’s sleep that I am sure others have experienced while traveling, often that first night in a new space.  A bad bed, a little hot, a few drinks, pizza, Meyer’s Ice Cream, a lot driving on Sunday, a little anticipation of a good fishing morning ahead, and so on conspired to grant me a solid three hours, I estimate.  At least I didn’t miss any guides while putting my rod together and rigging up in the driveway in the morning.  Besides a little roughness on the nail knot I tied at home before we left home, I had most of my game in decent shape considering.  I did determine on Sunday afternoon that I had forgotten my waders, however.  I had my boots and socks.  Thankfully, Sam was able to lend me a pair from the shop for the day after talking me out of wet wading.  Once I was waist deep on a 60 degree morning in the 60 degree water of the creek, I thanked him a few times.

The first of the day, I believe.

Nymphing a pink tag fly as the anchor and a size 18 frenchie with a purple hot spot on the collar—sparse, nearly a perdigon profile—I had a great start to the morning, landing at least 10 fish on the short day.  I was still sharp early, especially at our first stop.  I landed at least one fish at each hole we visited, most of them quality fish.  We both landed a few dinks between 8 and 10 inches, at least one small holdover rainbow or fingerling stocker mid-growth, but also several good fish, ranging from 15 inches up to the kicker of the day, my solid 19 incher captured in a photo by Sam above, along with kneeling bearded man and scavenged net (I deleted your original email, so send me another message if you want it back this summer!).  

Content

Sam had just got done telling me that he saw a big fish in four inches of water here in this very spot during a night fishing excursion this summer, how he will shine a spotlight’s beam on the water after he’s finished fishing in order to see what he missed, how the big fish are often up in skinny water waiting on crayfish and sculpin and any other living mouthful that happens to find its way into the nighttime shallows.  He took the head of the run, and I brought up the rear, targeting a back eddy that swirls below a low hanging tree branch.  On my second drift, this fish, likely the same beauty he just described, took my anchor fly and put on a good exhibition of bulldogging.  No jumps but a good close quarters tug of water and one attempt to get downstream that I was not going to let happen.  I love when I can get away with 4X tippet!  My morning was quickly made.  Before we left for another spot, I caught at least two more fish in the 15 inch range, and so did Sam, but I would have been content right here.

Sam's best and a good story.

It was getting past 9 AM, and Sam had one more spot in mind where riffles are split by an island.  After a walk and some bushwhacking, Sam let me pick a side, and my side had a spot that could surely hold a beast.  We saw plenty of bugs all day, but the tricos were thick here.  Spent trico spinners were in the soft water at the head and tail of the island.  Fish were rising in the pools above and below us.  But it was getting hot and past 10 AM, which is when we told the others we would quit, so we were going to nymph this riffle and call it a day.  I caught a few little fish on my side, but before we even lost sight of each other in the high grass of the island, Sam had landed 5 fish, mostly on his drowned ant pattern or a weenie on the dropper. 

Tricos not pollen....

 His side of the island was on fire, and he too was in the zone.  As the sun gets up higher, the inchworms and ants get active, he says, and I have no reason to disagree after he put on a show for the last 45 minutes of the morning.  At one point I heard him whoop and call for me, so I backtracked to see him land his own good fish, probably only a hair shorter and skinnier than mine.  The fish attacked his rig when it was snagged on a tree limb in a deadfall, so after he broke off and retied, he tossed a single weenie back in the same spot and came tight to this great fish.  He continued to land more fish, including another that was probably 16 by my estimation from 30 feet downstream.  My mojo was moving in the complete opposite direction.  My exhaustion had caught up with me on the ride over to this second spot, and then we took a walk in the hot sun once we arrived, so I was getting a bit sloppier and lazier when I needed to be the sharpest—we were fishing fast runs with nothing but brush and branches over the small, deep pockets near the bank offering respite and cover for the fish in the bright sun.

Another angle on Sam's inchworm fish, I believe.

I landed one more and missed at least two others on this side of the island, but I bet Sam had over ten fish in the net in this short span.  I had some weenies, even a tungsten ant, but I was good watching the show.  Sam does not always fish his "A" game when I am out there, probably because he wants me to have a good time, and he enjoys the social fishing too.  He has been guiding a lot this year, however, so I was happy he took full advantage of his morning on the water.  He booked a half day for Wednesday with a client while we were out there, in fact!  While watching the man in action, I certainly learned a little about sunken terrestrial fishing.  July is not just tricos, beatles, and ants on the surface.  These fish ate those tumbling, drowned offerings like they were the high protein delicacies they no doubt are.  

A healthy average and numbers.

We both powered through the rest of our day, visiting Poe Paddy and the lake, doing the scenic overlook pics, watching the tubers float Penns Creek, getting dinner with the families.  I intended to take a nap, but instead hosed the dust off my car, packed up a bit, watched some television with the boy, sat some porch in the farm fresh air (that’s manure when the wind changes direction).  After a beer, I was still asleep by 10:30 PM and thought about getting out during the magic 7:30 to 9:30 AM window today, but I decided that Monday was enough.  It was a good mini-vacation and fun to hang with my family and the Galts in a shared space.  As we did our best to honor the cleaning checklist and pack the cars for home, I certainly slipped Sam some cash for my seasonal fix of his custom flies (maybe even some of those ants), but I saved enough money to take a ride into town and get the boy one more serving of ice cream from the Creamery on campus and Tami a good breakfast sandwich before we pointed the Subaru towards the excessive heat warnings of home.

Another of Sam's, maybe his first of many on the day.