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?