November 29, 2020 – That Old Cliché about Making Reports – Monmouth County Beaches

I figured I would go black and white on this opening collage since the only bass I landed were photographed in the dark, anyway.  There were only two of them, plus one other that I dropped after a short battle, and they may have been 20 inches, but there are signs of life to the north that were not to be seen to the south.  Jeff, Dolf, and I were texting back and forth last night, and we left it as Jeff was definitely going, Dolf was questionable, and I would have a location pin from Jeff if I didn’t go trout fishing or head to Ocean County instead.  I got a booty call text at 3 AM: “Anybody up?” and the pin as promised, so I told Jeff I would meet him in MoCo at 5:30 AM.  There were a handful of hopefuls besides us, but the only real action besides some shorts was the big schools of hickory shad.  I saw the disturbance in the dark and was hoping bunker, but these were over 12 inches most of them.  I did cast around them hoping that they attracted big momma, but based on the bird play and boats once the sun was up, big momma was at least a mile offshore.  Some dudes were throwing small to catch them since the bass did not show.  I caught one near the mouth.  At times, some larger ones broke away from the school and could be seen right on the lip cruising for a meal.  No bass visible in these same clear conditions though…

Landed a couple and dropped one, so 2.5?

Just for old time’s sake or maybe practice, I hauled off into the school and snagged one with a snag hook to let him swim.  Far too big, but if adult bunker and adult bass ever meet this fall, or next spring, I have not lost this skill at least.  Every year, I put a snag hook in my plug bag and wonder if I should bother since it’s been years since I used it on the beach.  Every ounce of extra weight counts when lugging around plugs, tins, and bucktails, but the hook got some scales on it today.  Jeff had a blow up on a spook in a pocket beside the rocks, but that was it for him this morning.  We quit by 8:30 or 8:40 AM, and that was 45 minutes later than we should have.  It was a nice morning, I guess, and the bait gave us a slim chance at least.  There was a swell, but clean water and full sun, so it did not really feel like a day when a bite would occur all of the sudden at 9 AM.  It was good to see life this far north, though.  The buoy temps are still warm, so it makes sense.  All the birds and boats were enough to make the drive worth it, a shot of hope for early December, even if I didn’t manage to drag a few shorties off the bar before dawn to avoid the skunk.

November 27, 2020 – Some Social Fishing (at least Casting) with an Old Friend – Ocean County Beaches

Dolf snuck a shot of me testing that shoulder some more.

 I met my old pal Dolf and his neighbor Tony at a Wawa on an OC barrier island and tried to find some space to cast on a mild Black Friday afternoon.  It was a foregone conclusion, still confirmed by phone, that bait was not going to be available.  It would have been a comfortable night to bait and wait, though maybe not very effective.  The ocean temp at the AC buoy is still 55 degrees or more, so we only saw bait guys dragging in sharks and skates anyway.  By all accounts, southern OC is still hit or miss, but mostly miss.  It was a warm night with warm water, dirty rain water too.  Besides catching up and drinking a couple beers at sundown, the three of us covered a few blocks of good looking water at a good tide with good conditions, minus that stained water, of course, but none of us had even a touch.  

An OG mitch and moonrise in OC

I covered more ground than the others.  We took a couple breaks to share lack of success and drink a beer or two.  Dolf and Tony stuck mostly to a deeper slough with black plugs, while I ranged north a few times in search of something, anything.  We stayed until just after a cloudy moonrise and had to be content to shoot the breeze on a street end under the lamps since none of us were on the mask up and visit a diner or bar page.  Being it was Thanksgiving weekend, it seemed like all the homeowners were down enjoying the long weekend.  Surfers were out taking advantages of a warm night.  Though the West wind was light, there was a good 4 foot swell to make things interesting for surfers and fishermen alike.

Nice night and looked fishy.

Before we quit, I had a side agenda to scout an old favorite point on the beach where there often forms both a cut and a rip.  It was still in the same general vicinity, has been for years, only slowly migrating north or south a little each season.  There is a buried jetty or two in the area, so there are still a couple holes on this stretch too.  I threw a lot at the structure, at least twice: a THex and teaser, then the metal with a soft plastic eel, then after sunset a black SP, even a black and silver needle and a dark teaser.  Not a touch.  No birds, no bait, not even a scent of bait on the wind.  At least I got to see an old buddy and got to scout a favorite stretch of water.  I will be back in another week or so, I hope.  Dolf and Jeff may go Sunday, which is probably not a bad idea ahead of some forecasted snotty weather.  I am penciled in to fish with Eric for some stockies or holdovers somewhere.  If the Monday storm is still slated to arrive later that morning, Jeff and I may give the first light bite a shot before running for cover.  Maybe this storm and the swells after will give the fish the motivation they need to keep heading south?  One can hope.

November 23 and 24, 2020 – Well, You Have to Start Somewhere and Now That’s a Little Better – Ocean County Beaches

After the rain, the good kind of sporty.

After a rain-soaked, slow ride, I met Jeff outside of a tackle shop Monday morning to consolidate gear and take a ride on the beach in his buggy.  We met at 5 AM ahead of the sunrise just before 7 AM, hoping to get a pre-dawn and dawn bite on our first striped bass of the fall.  Even after airing down and taking a ride to prospect, we were casting our first lines in the dark with heavy rain coming at us from the SE.  At least the sweep was north to south, so we could turn our faces from the rain and cast into the oncoming swells.  It was supposed to be 4 to 6 feet and eventually breezy out of the SW, but I would say the surf was closer to 4.  There was plenty of whitewater, however, and zero weeds.  I was very hopeful that our first trip would be a success.  Having no experience on this beach, and this being Jeff’s first ride of the fall, we were the blind leading the blind in the dark, when every bit of soft structure looks about the same when the seas are nothing but whitewater.  With some gray light, I found one small cut, and we gave it a shot for the anticipated sunrise bite.  Birds even gathered out over the bar, probably hovering over adult bunker, however, not sandeels because there was no diving. 

Mobile today, but still got wet and cold...

We took another ride and found a legit point with two nice holes with current on both sides.  We got a couple bumps here, but we were not fast enough to recognize the cut where all the fish would be passing through now at low tide.  A few guys set up below us had it just right, and we watched a few keepers and many shorts come to the sand.  One of their fish was probably 35 inches, and it stayed cloudy into the morning, so we held out hope until well after usual quitting time that we might land a decent bass.  No dice.  Jeff dropped a decent one and had two dinks on that came off at the lip.  Me, I was struggling, impatient.  Had we mugged a mitch, we may have gotten a couple, but I am not wired that way, I guess.  The funny thing is, we kind of got mugged because we were on a decent piece of structure, so we should have just mixed it.  It was not that hot and heavy, however, not enough action for blitz norms of courtesy to take over.  We headed off the beach around 10:30 AM, debating Tuesday, but tossing my 10-footer had me a bit sore, so I was not so sure.

Found a couple in the dark before the usual sunrise flourish.

Funny what a nap (well, attempted nap) and some pain relief meds can do for a couple of men of a certain age.  Around 7 PM Monday night, I texted Jeff and said I could do it again, and he said he was also ready, so we decided to do the same thing today.  No rain, less surf, colder, but actually a good number of shorts landed since we got to the cut we scouted on Monday long before dawn today.  We met at 5 AM again, so two dudes in their 50’s got up at 2:30 in the morning two days in a row and fished the November surf.  Not that I have three in a row in me, but it’s been a while since I was this dedicated to the surf.  I live at least an hour and half from the beaches, but Jeff is sick with it and reliable.  If we say, see you at 4 AM, we are both there, which is one of the marks of a keeper fishing partner.  As I said, fish were caught this morning.  There were no keepers, but we landed 12 or 13 bass from 18 to 25 inches, so a much more successful second fall trip.

Quite a different day today.

I started out throwing a black SP Minnow in the dark and landed two 20+ inchers before sunrise.  I had a couple short bumps at the lip as well.  With high tide and lighter surf, I am sure those bumps were from the dinks running the lip before dawn.  But the larger shorts were also pretty much running the slough.  We got hit just as the plugs or metal came over the bar or just outside the inshore edge of the lip.  Not until the bright sun came out, did I have to haul off and further stiffen a sore shoulder from Monday.  To fish that cut we found yesterday, I threw a THex after the sun was up with a soft plastic eel teaser.  I only got one on the metal and two on the eel teaser, however.  Fish were roaming in closer today, so Jeff and I had the most success with a bone white SP minnow.  With a west wind, it was easy enough to get the plug out there nearly as far as metal, anyway, and I personally love that violent hit on a plug, regardless of the size of the bass.

Only one on the fall standby.

Jeff had the dreaded cracked guide or something because he had technical problems right as things were happening at dawn, so he only landed a couple of fish and lost another.  I was a casualty too.  The good news is that I snagged his blue braid and hauled in his lost rig one time, but the bad news is I snagged 50 yards of blue braid, dig?  I just grabbed my other rod from the buggy and kept fishing, but I had landed three fish on the metal and/or teaser right before the tangles, so I was a bit miffed.  Luckily, the bone SP on my lighter 9-footer worked just fine.  I landed 10 fish before we quit at 9 AM, so it was a momentary miff at best.  I was hoping Jeff could have gotten into a few more, so that was likely part of the miff too!  

Sandeel teaser.

By 8 AM we were feeling like it was over, but the wind had shifted a bit, so I walked up and fished the other side of the bar, this time on the side that was receiving the sweep of current, not blocking it.  It was a good hunch because I landed my last fish of the morning on the THex and teaser with my 10-footer now free of Jeff’s braid ball.  I think I took a break at the buggy to drink water and to text a report to Pete, who was also out fishing elsewhere, and must have decided that a pair of braid scissors would make quick work of the tangle that seemed so bad in lower light.  It was a decent 24 or 25 inch fish, the second this size today and probably the largest we encountered.  Not awesome, but when I am plugging, I just love the tug.  The idea of tossing a lure into the mighty Atlantic and having it pounced on by a fish still has not lost its appeal.  I have Friday penciled in to fish again, this time with Jeff’s brother in law Dolf, one of my first surf fishing partners and the one who set Jeff and I up last year.  I always tell Dolf, “Chunks is for punks,” because he still loves a good soak, but if I don’t rest this shoulder, I may be happy to hang a bunker noggin on a circle hook and sit some bucket later this week.  I am sure Jeff will figure out a way to fish with us!

The white SP Minnow was probably high hook between us.  Some B roll until next time.

November 20, 2020 – Jay and Me and Nearly Everyone Else in SEPA – Tulpehocken Creek

Ice in the puddles at sunrise.

By the time I did a drive-by of the creek before 7 AM and before I met Jay at the Wawa up the hill, there were already cars and trucks in the lots along the Tully DHALO.  Probably equal parts fresh stockie chasers and those like us giving the wild browns a break to spawn, 70/30 fly fisherman to gear guys, I was not surprised at the numbers, just surprised at how early folks got out on a Friday.  I don’t fish the Tully often because it is a freakin destination, and for friggin stocked fish, but it does provide a niche a couple times per year—in late fall and winter when I leave the browns alone for the most part, and in the early spring when they put those Keystone Select pigs in there and I’ve grown tired of watching a zebra midge under a tiny bobber. It is also pretty easy to find room because so much of the creek is stocked.  Jay had only fished the creek once before, so I offered to show him a few more spots here.  I am a terrible fishing guide, but a good tour guide.  The first hour of daylight has not been good, especially when it is cold, so I suggested meeting at 7, but we may have had first crack at a couple hot spots had I just manned up and suggested earlier—it is not like Jay is averse to early meet-ups!  We bounced around a couple times, and we ended up finding room at two different spots.  Fish were caught too.  The morning started out decent with some action on fresh stockies right away, but it took me three hours after that to catch 6 or 7 fish and drop a couple.  Jay landed one, plus a sucker, and he messed with a couple others in the same time frame.

Mostly fresh stockers to start.

Our second stop around noon was much kinder, even warm enough to drop layers, and a midge hatch brought out the fish—and hordes of dry fly guys.  No matter, because this dirty nympher kind of cleaned up in the second half, easily landing 10 or more in the last 3 hours we fished, even finding two decent wild browns before quitting time.  I began the morning fishing Eric’s blue collar caddis larva with an 18 hares ear grub on the dropper, and I landed three on the anchor before hanging in a tree when a fish came off mid-tussle.  In the afternoon, with small bugs hatching, I put a size 18 pheasant tail on the dropper and changed between a 16 frenchie on the point for skinnier water and a bomb walts in size 16 in heavier and deeper water, often within the same run.  Jay got at least one more at the second stop, but he was fishing larger bugs and learning the odd, decidedly not trout streamy, layout of the Tully.  While I could beeline right to the spots I knew would hold fish and point him in the right direction, he was also doing what most guys would do on a new stretch of water this wide—fish anything that looked remotely fishy and try to figure stuff out on his own, maybe compare notes on bugs once in a while.

Some pretty holdovers, though.

I was glad that I made a concerted effort this year to euro nymph with really small bugs (Sam would be proud) as that skill has paid dividends many times this season.  Instead of a dry dropper or swinging soft hackles during hatches of small olives, midges and micro caddis, I can just scale down to 6X, make longer casts, and deliver small bugs into flat water and shallow riffles without spooking fish.  I am also confident that I can get small bugs down deep too, and not just perdigons.  I have been working on Eric this year too, urging him to expand that tiny nymph section of his boxes, and I get to test ride his new creations along with him.  Not unlike when I committed to learning euro nymphing in general, this small bug thing has also been a game changer.  I pulled some fish out of shallow pocket water and dug a couple really nice, hot holdovers out of deep water using small bugs and light tippet.

Pretty day, Jay hooked up and working hard, not shy blue heron.

Perhaps the best justification for the success of this technique was landing two wild browns in the middle of a crowded park in a bouncy, deep riffle—well, it is mid-November, so more like adjacent to- or deep beneath a- bouncy deep riffle.  The first one took the tiny pt on the dropper and had me all excited when I saw the blue eye spot and sparsely spotted flanks.  We were a long way from where I usually encounter wild fish here, so that was cool.   I urged Jay to give the top of the run a shot, while I now worked the back.  When I hooked a bulldog rainbow a couple minutes later, I thought I had another wild brown, but this solid male bow did a tail walk and other rainbow-ish moves after that first wrestling match.  I was convinced there was another decent fish or two in the head of the pool, so when Jay moved back to try another seam on the other side of the creek, I returned to the top and hooked a second, even better wild brown.

First wild brown of the afternoon.

After catching stocked fish all day, this fight felt so different.  Because he stayed deep at first, I thought maybe large sucker, but this was just a 13 inch fish using the current like he was born here.  He eventually turned out of the current and came to the net.  Now I was really psyched.  Most if not all of the wild fish I have landed in the Tully have been 8 to 10 inchers, likely small stream fish from the tribs that roam the larger creek when conditions are right, but I would have been happy with this fish on any wild trout stream.  I even waded down to Jay to show the fish off and get a second set of eyes on the colors, the fins, and that telltale eye spot.  In the bright, low sun of 3 PM in the afternoon, I took a few bad back-lit pictures, but the shots in the net hopefully show the true beauty of both of the fish.

A pretty good fish anywhere.

So, even while trying to give them a break, the wild browns still haunt me, I guess.  I am not complaining.  It was an objective zoo out there for a Friday, with people jockeying for parking spots and then fishing spots, so I was very happy to have a decent day and not leave pissed at crowds and tough conditions.  Hopefully, Jay also had a day and learned a new spot or two.  He is good company, and I would not have braved the crowds today without a partner in crime.  I have to work on my guiding, as I admitted.  I am a far better tour guide than fishing guide, but I hope I share what I know along the way without being preachy or too opinionated.  I have had some teachers far more patient than me, and I marvel at how they can watch.  I have a ways to go before I can watch fishing happen without taking matters into my own hands!

Pretty fishy.

November 13, 2020 – It’s the Time of the Season – Northampton County Cricks

 

Landed a few, but there was plenty to see even in the rain.

I was out this morning for a few hours and actually visited two creeks in the Lehigh Valley.  It was pretty raw and rainy, which surprised me a bit.  My phone was saying less than 20% chance of rain today, and there was only one small cell on the radar when I left home before 6 AM.  I heard the rain falling at a pretty good rate when I was fixing to head out to the garage to load up, but that tapered off as I drove north.  It drizzled and showered for most of my time on the water, but not enough to require rain gear, and sadly not enough to give the creeks another bump.  The first bump was not huge and was short-lived, even though I saw the lovely double spike on Valley yesterday.  I had nothing but meetings on Thursday, when there was a chance of streamer bite in the afternoon, and all I had was the morning today, not the sunnier, more temperate afternoon.  I take what I can get sometimes.  I got out, caught a few fish, and had a morning full of experiences. 

Late fall, leaves, redds, and no owl photos.

I had a feeling that fish would be fixing to spawn, and sure enough I saw at least three redds at the first creek.  There was at least one fish here actively fanning the gravel, so I stayed out of the water in the tailouts and shallower riffles.  Instead, I targeted a couple deeper plunges (twice) and landed three average wild browns on an SJ worm with a hot bead (that could pass for an egg—I told you I had a feeling).  With the leaves mostly gone from the trees, I was treated in the first half hour on the water to an owl sighting.  He was only 20 feet up in a leafless branch and right across the creek from me.  Birds of prey have my number when it comes to photos most of the time, however.  By the time I dug out my phone, he had turned his head a creepy 100 degrees and taken off to the protest of several crows now on high alert.  Pretty cool.  I have a pair of them in my neighborhood who talk to each other every night now, but I never see them, so this was a treat.  Maybe a little early for owls to mate, but they are talking and staking out turf, at the very least.

Eating the worm or that bead?

When a couple favorite deep holes did not look all that deep and gave up nary a bump, I decided to investigate another creek on the way home to check that for redds.  By the time I stopped to get gas and navigate the rainy Friday traffic, I had all of 40 minutes to fish this second creek, but I did manage to land a decent fish on my go-to bug for this particular stream—a little brown nothing hare’s ear grub.  I also counted at least 5 redds in the short stretch where I expected to see them.  I tried to photograph one redd that had at least one fish fanning and possibly the partner nearby too.  It went about as well as the owl photoshoot, even doing the old take a shot through the polarized glasses lens trick.  Not the best light conditions today.  I did not see any true pigs on these redds, but one of them here was probably 16 inches, I estimate.  Again, I stuck to a couple holes to give the fish their space.  With all the leaf litter, it is easy to see active and newer redds now, but the next good rain can cover them up in no time, so it takes more conscious effort to remain mindful.   It may be time for me to hit the beach or beat up some stockies, at least on these small creeks.

Eating that bead or that worm?

November 10, 2020 – A Twelve-Hour Tour, A Twelve Hour Tour – Brodhead Creek

Like fishing two different days in one

I had a day today, a long one, but had I quit after a thoroughly mediocre morning, partially of my own ambitious doing, I would not have experienced a good afternoon bite.  It has been difficult to get out.  I have been busy with work, but I am also tired of the low water and the effort it takes to put together a decent trip in those conditions.  Normally, I am up for the challenge, but I think everyone has a threshold, and I have been up for this more technical fishing since August it seems, maybe July.  I missed the last spike of rain due to work commitments, and all the creeks were back to low in no time, so even though I had some time over the weekend and even Monday, I just spent time outdoors in this warm November weather doing other stuff like lawn work and visiting with family.  I also have a threshold of about ten days of no fishing before I go insane.

Did some walking but there was some water

Much like last visit, I made the trek to the mighty Brodhead this morning in search of water.  The upper end of the river is mad low, but the lower end in the gorge is about normal for this time of year.  It picks up some major tributaries on the way to the Delaware, which helps a lot.  I actually like to fish the Brodhead when it is low and decidedly less mighty, especially alone.  It can be a little dangerous to wade in the spring and early summer.  I have fished the river for probably 30 years, and I have only taken one bath because I use caution, but as I age I approach it with even more caution.  I always have Brodhead boots: felt and spikes.  Even though I used it to cross and then tossed it in the woods for the return trip, I even brought out the wading staff today!  Nymphing, I typically spend half the day waist deep on round rubble and slippery bed rock, which is nice when it gets to 70 degrees. It did not start out that warm this morning, however. 

After striking out with the streamer I was happy to see this guy.

The first few shots that open this post show the contrasts.  The end of the day was warm and partially sunny, even a bit breezy with South convection wind for about an hour, but the morning was socked in with fog and about 46 degrees.  This is mild for November in the Poconos, of course, but prior to this warm up, the water temps were also dipping into the high 40’s.  I saw today that they peeked over 54 degrees, and that explains why the afternoon bite of wild browns was solid after a lethargic rainbow bite earlier in the day.  I thought I was going to have to sneak around in sunny condition, but the fog inspired me to go for broke for the first shift.  This is a big watershed, so I think the browns are at different stages of pre-, mid-, and post-spawn depending on where they are.  I saw no redds, but one fish I caught certainly looked snaky enough to be spawned out and tired from all the efforts of procreation. 

More about Snaky Sue below.

I grabbed the streamer rod for the first three hours, and I had but one follow from what looked like a good rainbow to show for it.  A couple other nips and half-hearted bumps, and even then the hits came when I was throwing close to an 1/8 ounce of Kenny’s hair jig near the bottom of 4 to 5 foot holes.   Having caught fish over 20 inches in this creek, one over 25 on a Rapala some 20 years ago, I am always hoping for a grab from a pig, but I may have missed that window this year based on how I had to catch fish even later in the day after the warm up.

Persistence and stamina paid off with a couple 14 and over.  Another shot of this one below.

Before heading back to the parking lot, I tied a bit of tippet on and added a bobber in order to test the waters.  I had a few other places in mind to try for the late morning shift, but all the bumps convinced me that fish were here too, just a bit lethargic.  With a big old hares ear under a bobber, I dragged a decent holdover rainbow out of a deep slow hole, where I would return later in the afternoon for some fun with wild browns.  On the walk up, I also took another smaller rainbow in pocket water, doing my best to tighline nymph without a sighter on my 9-foot 6 weight—old school!  I dug my wading staff out of the bushes, made a return crossing, had a rest and some mixed nuts at the ‘Ru, even did some work on my phone, deciding whether to take a ride or just stay put and nymph.  In the end, I made the right call, perhaps, and just grabbed my nymphing rod and took a couple longer walks. 

Started picking up some smaller fish once I began nymphing for real.

Just wanting some action, I first returned to a hole I fished a couple weeks ago.  That late morning, I caught 10 fish in the hole in 30 minutes.  Not today.  I ran into a couple from even further north, fishing the warmer Brodhead to avoid fish on redds on their home creek, the mighty Lackawanna.  We crossed paths a couple times, the first when we both had snuck up the trib to find some rainbows (I found one) the second at the lot at the end of the day, so I mostly had the river to myself.  They mentioned that the wife caught some fish in this same hole, so I either unknowingly followed behind her, or like the browns I found, the bows also woke up when the creek warmed a couple degrees between 2 and 4 PM.  Speaking of wild browns, before I ran into the couple the first time on the end of the trib, and before I caught a rainbow in some pocket water in the trib, I dredged up my first wild brown of the day from a deep-ass eddy, like 5 feet deep, where the two creeks meet.  He took a small waltz worm with an oversized bead, basically a walts bomb.  In the former rainbow honey hole, I had tried big bugs, small bugs, and then finally this bomb with a tag fly dropper under a bobber, splitting the different between getting deep and matching the hatch, targeting the deep winter holes with larva.  When I know there are fish there and they are not eating, I do a lot of thinking and rigging until I land on the right combination.

The blue collar caddis larva and a bomb walts did the trick.

Knowing that the sun had now hit a favorite hole where I dredged up a bow before quitting the morning shift, I decided to spend another 45 minutes in this stretch of pocket water that ends in swift, deep holes and a boulder field.  The original 45 minutes turned into me quitting at 4:30 PM as the sun was starting to dip behind the hills with at least 5 more fish in the net and maybe 2 dropped fish, so I salvaged the day in the final round.  I took a second wild brown in the pocket water on the way down to the hole, and I dropped a decent rainbow too, both while tighlining slower pockets in the riffles.  Needing more weight than the waltz bomb, I switched to Eric’s blue collar caddis when I reached the hole proper.  I fished the small but heavy bug with an extra split shot under a bobber so that I could get some nice slow drifts on both of the seams on the edges of the main flow.  By 3 PM it was warm enough that I heard a big old splashy rise, and I even took a decent fish right out of the current, so they had finally gotten off the bottom with 2 hours of daylight remaining!  Sort of a winter play, but I was just happy to see wild browns, a couple of them over 14 inches long and rather sporty even in 50 degree water.  

A more flattering shot of skinny and an average wild brown in the mix during the final hour.

After an average 10 incher, I hooked and landed a long skinny one.  The fish was close to 15 inches long and a beauty, but it was so thin.  That was a clue that she may have spawned already.  It is also possible that this area got warm as hell during this low water summer, and living was not easy, but she looked in great shape minus the weight loss.  The other fish I landed, including another bow looked no worse for the wear, though the bow had a bird wound—I have seen eagles and osprey in this stretch in recent years.  The best fish was another wild brown just shy of 15 inches long and much thicker.  I did not get any jumps out of them, but in the deep water, using the current when they could, they did not easily submit to the landing net.  Knowing it was getting later, and that I had to make a crossing and climb out of the gorge before dark, I kept telling myself one more cast, and I either got hit or had the bobber buried by a willing eater.  It was 4:30 before I starting walking back, and even then I had to stop and take another rainbow out of the pocket water before saying that’s it, fella, time to go home.  

A healthly one.

Of course the tough morning was of my own making, but sometimes you have to go for it if you want to find a big fish.  Once I decided to be smart and nymph the softer water, things improved greatly.  Fishing 8 or 9 hours for 10 fish is pretty tough fishing, winter fishing if there were that many fishy hours most winter days.  Still, it’s not over for the freestoners of the north, I think.  As I mentioned, I did pluck a few fish out of bouncy water, actively eating in current.  I may have one more trip to the Brodhead in me before I rest it until the spring.  I believe that Jay and I took a late November trip last year and found some fish, but as it gets cold and the productive window of the day shrinks, it is a trip of diminishing returns.  My real hope is that the rain continues and I can turn again to the limestoners closer to home to get me through the rest of the year.  And then there are the fall stockies, of course…

Getting to late fall, but the Brodhead might give me one more this year?

November 1, 2020 – Daylight Savings Time Ends and Late Fall Begins – SEPA Blueline

 

Pretty male to start.

Eric and I made a post-Halloween trip to our little spot this morning, hoping the rain from earlier in the week would have woken up our friends.  The creek was low the last time we visited, so the flows were better today.  There was a little remaining stain to the deeper holes too.   It was cold, but not as cold as the morning before or what was forecasted following the next cold front set to arrive later in the morning.  We reached the creek around 7:30 AM in a conscious effort to give the sun an hour to warm things up, but the sun was short-lived.  We did sneak in about 3 hours of fishing before the rain arrived.  If fishing were even decent, I don’t think some moderate rain would have chased us off, but fishing was tough—perhaps as a result of what was coming—so we allowed ourselves to be chased after landing a few small to average wild browns. 

Cold and cloudy, micro-caddis, micro-trout.

I saw Eric drop one, and he may have landed a parr, so he had to live vicariously through my very moderate success.  I was throwing his bugs, so at least he got to see more success on his “blue collar caddis,” something I have called his squirrel caddis in previous posts and something he put together as a cheap, fast, and effective point fly.  It is a nice guide style fly, for sure.  The other fly that worked was his green midge/small caddis larva, one I have not had success with since I fished it on the much-pressured Little Lehigh back in July.  This fly’s time is coming again as winter approaches—I am thinking Valley dropper par excellence?  This simple fly took the best fish of the day.

Only a few.

The creek is still continuing to change after each heavy rain, so it may be a different place by the spring, but nothing too drastic has happened.  We have yet to figure out where they go during the colder months in the stretch to which we have access.  In May and June when they are spread out, they are in most fishy spots, regardless of depth, but my guess is that they hunker in the few roots and undercuts here.  They also move to spawn and winter-over, no doubt.  I see a couple places where I would expect to see redds soon, but I also see a lot of barren water—not uncommon for shallow freestoners with a lot of exposed bedrock.  I even wonder if they move down to the bigger creek it feeds as the water cools.  Anyway, this was another chance to learn how the creek performs in different seasons.  So far, the fall is not prime, but this has been a dry fall.  We also did not do well in early February, but who does most days in that month?

Widowmaker still up there

Eric is an archer and has taken one buck and is looking for a doe and a first deer for his mom (on a crossbow!).  He just loves the woods.  I too agreed that it was just a good excuse to be outdoors this morning.  The fact that we had this place to ourselves on a weekend did not go unappreciated either.  I am hopeful that this is the start of a wetter weather pattern, and I hope the weather calms down enough to head out again this week. I spent the weekend submitting grades for four of my classes that are accelerated and have now concluded. Only having two remaining until the holidays will feel like a luxury.  I have a research paper due this week, but nice weather and good flows are my motivation to get it done!