June 17, 2020 – A Long Pre-Dawn Drive but Hardly a Longshot – Lackawanna River

A stunner.

We are lucky enough to have a handful of true trout fishing destinations in Pennsylvania.  State College area, the fabled spring creeks far south of there, the Delaware River system to the northeast, the big waters out by Pittsburgh, Pine Creek gorge, and there are more.  That is impressive and overwhelming, and many of them are not day trips.  The measure of a destination for me is that there are guys who live in State College and drive to the Clarion River, just as there are guys who live on the West Branch and drive to the Letort.  Living in SEPA, a short drive to good trout fishing is relative.  I call places that are 90 minutes away home waters, and I use places an hour away for short morning trips.  The Lackawanna River is over two hours away, but it is one of those places that has become a destination in Pennsylvania, a place to test your local skills on some potential monster fish in coal country.  I have written about three trips to the river in the last four years, and I only visited the creek one other time pre-blog.  Many of the big rivers were blown out a lot last year, so I was disappointed that I never found a good window.  I needed to get up there this year.  I have yet to be disappointed. I kind of feel at home there too, as it is an urban creek.  One of my posts from a few years ago was about all the random nonsense I encountered in and around the creek.  Today’s odd sightings were limited to an abandoned television a long way from any rational carry and dump, but I also think I hooked and nearly landed someone’s N95 mask—a sign of the times. 

In the pocket water.  Wadable today.

If you squint, however, the river is not without its beauty, especially in the trophy trout section and the headwaters, and many miles are paralleled by the Heritage Trail, so parking is easy and a lot of water is accessible by walking.  But I was there for the beautiful trout.  I chose the river today because I like to get at bigger river systems when the spring flows have subsided.  I knew the water would be cold enough as it is supplemented with mine discharge that is as cold as limestone water.  I was up at 2 AM and on the road by 3 AM, just me and the trucks on the Northeast Extension and 81.  It was chilly to start, about 55 degrees, but after a walk, I was feeling good.  The water was lower, but it looked great and so very wadable.  I was excited to get started, and had my first wild brown long before 6 AM.  Besides a few caddis, there were really only midges in the air, so I quickly retied to fish a pair of larva; and after that one change, and another pause later to rig the same bugs to dropshot, I had steady success for 6 or 7 hours with a lunch break in there.  Most fish took Eric’s sexy walts, including the pig that opens this post, but a handful of the 20+ fish I landed also took the green caddis larva that served as my anchor fly. 

Worth the long ride, and before 6:30 AM.

Fish were not concentrated in the holes, which were running clear.  My second fish of the morning, a good 19-inch brute, was sitting in less than a foot of water on the seam of a heavy riffle.  After the deep braided hole did not produce, I just kept inching up into shallower water.  I found a fish near the bank in a pocket, which was encouraging.  The next good looking pocket was the one, though.  The hit was subtle, but this big fish started running for deep water the minute he was hooked.  Because I had snagged it three times already, I knew there was a sticky obstruction in the hole, but once I steered him around that, I was confident that this battle might end well.  I could tell before I even landed him that he was a stunner—just a big jaw and deep hues all down his flanks.  Even in low light, he was all lit up like a freshwater mahi mahi. 

The same little sexy walts all day long.

Once I landed that fish, I targeted shallow riffles and pocket water all morning with great success.  I took off the heavier pinky bomb and tied on a lighter green caddis larva as my point fly.  That seemed to strike the right balance and collect far less debris from the rocks.  Fish were spread out and in any dark spot or under any overhang in the riffles.  Most were small fish, but besides the first big buck, I landed two other quality fish, and there seemed to be two year classes out in force, one about 8 inches and the other closer to 10 or 11 inches—all of them strong and fun on my 3 weight nymphing rod.  I fished the first shift until around 11 AM and then paused for lunch before round two.  I packed a lot of water and food, even a La Colombe draft latte, so I was living large for me.  I even sat on a park bench in the shade at lunch and had a PBJ and a fresh plumb—in my waders of course.  Folks were out with bikes and strollers, but I was the only angler I saw in seven hours.

Dropshotted a decent one.

Before my lunch break, I fished a large plunge pool, nearly a waterfall in higher flows.  I have only caught little fish here in the past, but it is the kind of hole that holds a wise old one or two that still elude me.  When the tailout, which I could fish with a tight line, did not pan out, I took the time to dropshot the deep holes under the plunge with a bobber.  With the extra eighteen inches of tippet and a large split shot riding point, I missed a couple tentative hits before landing a quality fish—not the boss of the hole but one not in any danger of being eaten either. I would say it was just over 14 and was sporty.  He jumped twice when digging for the wall of boulders under the plunge proved fruitless.  I have the settings of the drag on my new reel dialed in correctly, though, so I did allow him to take a couple runs in the mostly obstruction-free tailout.  Even with all that depth and added tippet, he took Eric’s walts on the dropper.  I would not have hooked him had I not taken the time to re-rig, so that was positive reinforcement of my good instincts. 

If you squint, green caddis larva too.

The pocket water above this plunge was productive, so much so that I postponed lunch for 40 minutes or more while I hit every little potential feeding lane.  That was when I began to put up numbers, hitting at least a dozen fish before I finally did sit on that bench and enjoy the breeze and the people watching for a half hour before taking a drive upstream to another productive spot.  I was bounced and also landed a small fish in the first hole I targeted after lunch—encouraging start.  Shortly thereafter, and right behind a city playground, still cordoned off, I landed another good wild brown. 

Another good one in a park.

This one also fought well, though no jumps.  He just dug for wood and boulders and other obstructions in this deeper run.  He was over 14 inches too, so I was hopeful that the run of shaded pocket water or a couple bridges upriver might hold another pig.  I had two spots in mind where I have landed big fish in the past, but today neither offered up anything or anything memorable.  I saw one pig hanging out with suckers at a wing dam, but while the suckers ignored the bugs, he darted the minute they landed above him.  It was sunny in this spot, so the shadow from line may have spooked him more than the tiny splash.  Speaking of sun, for the second time this month I have worm my sun hoodie and was thankful that I brought it along.  The solstice is near, so the midday sun is intense.  Besides a little glow on my face from the reflection, I stayed protected all morning.  It was nearly too hot to wear the 90+-degree day on the Lehigh River, but today it was perfect for the conditions.

Perhaps a future pig among them.  Same two bugs.

Though no pigs showed in this second spot as I had hoped, I did land a lot more fish.  I texted Eric around noon to let him know that his bug was still killing it, and by the time he responded I was shooting for an even 20 fish on which to quit.  The same pattern held.  Fish were right up in the meat of the riffles, under plunges and in pockets with overhead cover and bouncy water.  I landed five fish on five casts in a spot that had all those elements working in unison.  I began to accept that another big fish was not coming at midday, and 2 AM is an early time to start one’s day, so unless I took a nap under a tree for a few hours and regrouped at 4 or 5 PM, it was going to be more of the same or probably less for the rest of the afternoon.  When I reached that arbitrary number 20, I started looking for a way out that did not involve back—or someone’s backyard!  Before I waded to a spot where I have exited the creek in the past, right in the middle of a small business district, I landed one more average fish, so I exceeded my goal…. Quitting time.

20 and 21

Looking back, I see I had a similar day last time I made this drive: a pig early and then smaller fish the rest of the day, which felt like downhill at the time.  Today did not feel like a decline, more like added flash in the dubbing.  I have never put up these kinds of numbers on the Lack, so that alone was memorable.  I love to hunt pocket water with precise casts and be rewarded with fish.  The fact that the best of the day also came this way was even more memorable.  The river has yet to disappoint me, so it will remain a destination worth the “long drive.”  One of these days I have to get a cheap motel in Scranton and explore the many miles of equally cold and productive water—get a day of trees one day and day of cement walls the next?  What’s a little graffiti?  I am making the drive for the fish, after all.

22?