August 23, 2020 – Almost Always Challenging, Nearly Never Boring – Northampton County Limestoner

Cool spot burn shot....

The Silver Fox helped me log trip 60 of this strange year.  I am working from home again this fall, with Tami and Lukas also home, so I don’t see the numbers trailing off anytime soon.  August has been kind, but the bonus round set off by the last tropical storm and a cooling trend has ended, perhaps until the next.  I have been wanting to visit this particular creek since Isaias left.  I could see that the flows were staying high for nearly a week after, and the gage had been left useless during the floods themselves, but only an in-person visit would provide any real detail.  I remarked to Tom this morning that this is the first creek in the region that looked like it had survived a 100 year storm.  It was a mess.  It is always urban fishing, but this was next level.  There were couch cushions wedged in trees ten or more feet above the water, a freezer or some other metal appliance sunk in a favorite hole, a year’s worth of sundried wardrobe in the bushes (even some sweet jorts that might have time traveled), all matter of backyard tools and toys, even pool liners and vintage toy cap guns—well at least the plastic handle to one. 

Tom found your Christmas decorations

Besides the junk, there was nothing much to separate today’s conditions from any other day in August, but I chose the creek mainly for the visit and because a medium-sized creek would still have more flow this week than the other small creeks in the region.  Average flows, average mid-60s water temps, no stain, no bugs, no risers, one brown trout.  The browns are dickish here, and if you know the creek or have heard me talk about it before, you know what I am saying.  In winter, for example, you may think there are no fish period.  On good spring or fall days, a dozen wild browns will make you think you should start a YouTube channel and spot burn the place in a national publication.  I always come back for the challenge and the odd piggy or two or three each season.  I have landed fish to 20 inches in recent years, I expect one over 15 at least once every other trip, and I still obsess about my white whale—a fish of about 25 inches that I had on the lip of an inadequate net once and who pinned himself under some urban refuse until he broke off another time. 

And your dorm fridge?

Sections are stocked even though there is a Class A (at least B most years) population of browns, so sometimes the rainbows swipe right when the browns ghost you.  Just this summer, I landed a monster rainbow and another little piggy on the same day.  Lucky for Tom and me, the rainbows allowed us some small success this morning.  The biggest came in the eleventh hour and might have been a thick 14 inches, but we at least landed some fish to make all the early waking and driving and wet wading somewhat worth it.  It was an adventure anyway.

Still pretty if rough....

We started out walking in the predawn hours towards a high percentage spot, and we were there for prime time.  It did not pay out today, however.  A walk downstream through some riffles and pocket water produced the only brown of the day, an average 10 or 11-incher, and I dropped him before netting and photographing.  The rest of the stretch seemed barren, not even some dinks in the riffles, until we reached a final hot spot in this stretch.  The pool ends in a deeper plunge, rainbow water, and we pulled at least three average rainbows, likely spring stockers by the looks of them, out of there.  The sweet spot in the hole was filled with some sort of metal box, maybe an old freezer, but we got a couple fishing around the perimeter before snagging up too many times.  The more brown trout friendly run below did not produce, so I suggested a move to a deep waterfall pool that is only a short drive away and might be more productive.

The one in the next lane over let her have it first

The sun stayed at bay, and as evidence by the fog still on the water at 10 AM, the water temperature remained in the green, but besides losing one after a half-hearted take on a weenie at the base of the falls, this spot was also dead.  I thought about another drive, but pitched the idea of fishing some nearby riffles instead.  The storm flooding had filled a lot of this stretch with sand, so I double-timed it through this stretch to two final holes downstream.  Tom must have thought I was trying to ditch him in the post-apocalyptic environs, but by the time he caught up to me again, I had landed a good rainbow that looked so perfect it could have been wild.  The reason I stopped was because I saw signs of a fish taking something subsurface, a little flash of white mouth, and when I stopped to look longer, I spied a fish even bigger than the one I landed.  It too looked to be a rainbow, this one in the 20 inch range.  Unfortunately, it was the smaller one who ate my little16 frenchie on the dropper not big mama.  Tom tried to get the bigger one interested, but I think the fight with the first one had the larger one on alert even if it did not spook to cover.

A couple more bonus shots of bonus fish

We gave Tom first shot at the best looking hole, most pressured too, but we could not find another fish.  I worked really hard in some pocket water for even a dink, and I had two half-hearted bounces—more like slight hops—but did not connect.  It was 11 AM at this point, and we could anticipate the heat even if we felt good wet wading the cool water, so another move was not warranted.  It was probably a good call because I passed the third spot I wished to try on the drive out, and all the cars from a nearby apartment building were parked on the main road.  Several bridges in the area were compromised, but this one must have been deemed too unsafe to cross with a vehicle.  Like I said to Tom, this was the first creek where I truly felt the impact of a 100 year flood.  I am sure there are other creeks in similar shape.  Word on the street is the Little Lehigh, for example, is full of stockies recently escaped from the hatchery.  Someone (but certainly not this mitch) will be trying to feed a trico to a golden rainbow this week, for sure….