July 4, 2019 – Where I Exercise Some Responsible Freedom – Bushkill Creek

The moment one regrets the wet wading choice.

Today I play with a quote by the so-called patriot poet, Roger W. Hancock: “Liberty is maintained by responsible freedom.”  No, it’s not a fishing quotation, but it does mean I showed a little self-control this holiday morning and only logged about 4 hours, most of it while my family still slept, on the Bushkill near Easton. I was hoping to hook a good one, so I fished the first three hours with a big streamer.  The water was stained, but it was not stained enough, even in the lower light of 6 to 8 AM, to make any pigs feel overly secure and pounce on my big sculpin.  I had a few bumps and landed one brook trout in the first hour, I bet.  I kept at it, though, and I did finally move one big brown that had to have been 20 inches.  The fish followed the sculpin for a few feet, slowly pursuing the streamer from some riffles into a soft spot between two runs, before it turned back.  I couldn’t get it to move again, but I was happy to see it!  I hooked a monster while nymphing last year in this general area, and I never had a chance when he immediately ran downstream of me in heavier water, popping off when I tried to take some control back in the battle.  One of my white whales and one of the reasons I took the ride this morning.

One fish in the first hour....

When I parked in the morning, I hoofed it upstream in order to fish back to the car, just in case I wanted to or needed to nymph after streamer fishing.  I was wet wading for the first time this year, and the air temps were in the low seventies at 6 AM, so the walk was a good way to build up a little body heat also.  The water temps are still hovering around 60 or less, so even in the cool morning air, there was a mist hanging over the creek.  I had hopes that some tricos might make a showing as the sun got higher, and I saw a few, but there were no early morning risers in one of my go-to spots.  Instead of waiting any longer for them, I kept pushing downstream with the big streamer and ended up landing two very nice rainbows, one close to 17 inches and hot.  Both fish grabbed the streamer with no hesitation and went immediately airborne. I would have preferred a big old brown, but these two fish were pretty plumpers that have been thriving in the cool limestone-fed waters.  My trip was made in short order.  When I reached the car, I fished one last hole below where I parked and had a couple nips on the big streamer.  When switching to a smaller bugger proved not to be the answer, I decided to spend my last hour on the creek in this final hole with my nymphing rod. 

Small bugs readily taken, however.

The parking lot was bumpin’, yo.  Cyclist, joggers, gear fishermen, all out early trying to get some outdoor time in before the heat.  Try wet wedding at 6 AM, I say!  The heat from the asphalt felt good, but I could already tell it was going to be another hot day.  I planned to quit by 10 AM, to beat the heat and spend the rest of the day with the family, but it was only a little after 9 AM.  After tossing my streamer rod into the back of the Subaru and grabbing my 10 foot 3 weight, I spent the next 45 minutes or so nymphing up 5 more holdover rainbows.  Half took a size 18 sexy walt’s on the dropper, so small bugs seemed to be the ticket.  I did land a couple on the size 14 tungsten tag fly jig too, however.  I was rigged up with a green weenie on the dropper, but I didn’t stick with it long enough to see if it could have become a difference maker.  I needed the extra tungsten weight of the walt’s worm in the heavier and deeper water where I ended up fishing.  The fish were feisty and readily took the flies, so no heat stress yet.  I may have to take another trip or two this month to hunt for trico hatches and nymph the riffles.  My white whales still escape capture too. 

Quite the holdover specimen took the sculpin.

At about 9:45 AM, I snuck back up to the hole where I landed the two bigger rainbows, hoping I might find another.  There is also a small side pocket that historically holds a wild brown or two for me.  In fact, I moved a small fish from cover with the streamer here just before I landed the rainbows.  I miffed the hook set, but I think I saw a pretty little brown turn in the shadow line of a big boulder after taking a peck at my nymphs.  I wanted to keep fishing, but I remembered my self-imposed quitting time was approaching, and I remembered how hot the paved parking was even an hour ago, so I thought it best not to push it.  I know that if I am willing to get up early enough I will still find some fish within an hour of home this month.  Better to exercise some responsible freedom this morning and hit the road as planned.

Not the one, but fun.