March 11, 2021 – Yeah, Sometimes all the Driving is Worth It – Fishing Creek

Brings me back to my youth.

When I read my last blog post I see that I half-expected Sam to pick up a guide trip for today because the weather was so good for early March and olives are popping.  Sure enough, when we talked on Wednesday night, he had just gotten done with a full day on Penns, mostly without cell service.  As I expected, he picked up a trip for today too.  It’s been a tough economic year, especially when he used to supplement his income in bars and restaurants too.  I was packed up and ready to go either way, but if I was doing this thing solo, I was going to someplace pretty.  Since Poe Paddy was terrible for Sam’s clients on Wednesday, he seconded my second choice, which was beautiful Fishing Creek.  It is no Spring Creek this time of year, but it can get some pressure when word on the street about the first hatches of the year gets out, and like Penns it is susceptible to snow melt this time of year too.  With Sam’s blessing, and some of his bugs too, I rolled the dice and had a very good day on a creek that can be awesome one day and like wild trout graduate school the next.  No size, although a couple in the 14-15 inch range, but a solid 20+ fish in the net with a few others shaking off the small bugs needed to connect during midge and BWO hatches.

Perdigon did some damage.

It was like three or four days in one, so I will try to break it down in stages and just share a bunch of pics.  I take more creek pics when I fish alone, especially in a place so lovely.   I got hooked on trout fishing and fly fishing as a young teen or tween in the Pine Creek gorge and Little Pine and its tributaries.  Even though Fishing Creek has limestone bones, in places it runs through this same type of country—a mountain freestoner, just pumping rich limestone water from numerous springs along its route.  I get excited just being on Route 80 out there and seeing the signs for Williamsport and Loch Haven and all the little towns around the West Branch of the Susquehanna valley.  I was parked by 6 AM to start stage one, which was a chilly, breezy, and sunny one.  The creek looked great, not clear but more wadable than it’s been during my last couple of visits.  No snow melt either.  In fact, much of the white stuff was gone except for in those hollows that never get sun.  I was actually hoping for those cold hollows to hold back the melt even if I was going to find snow and the expected melt on a day reaching into the 60s.  In the end that was not an issue, except below a particularly cold tributary.  Rain came in stage two of the day, but all that did was slow down the midge hatches for a while.

Some decent fish in the mix, but more of a numbers kind of morning.

At 6:30 AM, I was the only dude out there.  I saw one truck around 7:30 scouting for a spot, driving by a couple times to peep my progress.  I just wanted to beat any snow melt, which was not going to be a factor today, and be first through some excellent holes in this stretch.  With a mild overnight temperature, it wasn’t even that slow to start, though.  I had my first fish by 7 AM, and my second, a solid 14 incher, not long after that.  I was excited and relaxed now.  Fishing Creek was probably going to be good to me today.  I fished from 6:30 to about 10:30 AM covering a great piece of water.  By the time I reached the end of this first beat, I had taken off my knit hat, my fingerless gloves, and the midges loved the bright warm sun.  Small bugs did damage.  The most effective was a size 18 black and olive perdigon, but I got some fish in pocket water with a sexy walts and even one on a smaller golden stone.  

More beauties as the morning warmed up even more.

Fish were pretty deep early, but there were a few opportunists in each hole, not just one and done.  As I moved closer to the end of the gorge and more spring creek snaky sections, I even popped on a bobber and pulled out 3 and 4 fish in a row in two deep, stained holes.  I was ready to hike back along the road to my first parking spot by 10:45 AM with a rough count of 15 fish to show for my solo morning.  Midges had been steady, but now isolated storms of size 20 olive duns were also flying upstream in places.  The water temperature in this stretch was also pushing 45 degrees, so my mind was turning.

Some color and some snow around in the hollows.

One other truck was parked behind me when I got back to the ‘Ru for my first break.  I had something to eat, shed some more layers, finished an iced coffee, took an al fresco seat in the woods after my breakfast and that coffee started working.  I have had full days of 6 fish here, even one this time of the season a couple years ago where I worked my ass off for two fish.  Fly fishing grad school some days, as I said.  I was good with today already, relaxed and feeling great physically and mentally.  A couple 14-inch fish in pocket water is fun, and there were a few 12-inchers in there too, but most were average wild browns of 8 to 10 inches, so the only thing left to do was try and move a big fish?  I took a ride and saw how the late morning and nice weather had brought out a growing cadre of hopefuls, so I was even more glad I got on the road at 3 AM this morning and had a quiet and productive first shift. 

For the Silver Fox, not just RR this time...  Class A lunch stroll before the rains.

I decided that phase two would be a little adventurous, so I grabbed a bugger and explored a Class A brookie creek for about 500 yards, just scouting on behalf of the Silver Fox, who really wants to have a post-Covid brookie adventure in the wilds of PA this summer.  The woods were dark and icy still, and the water had to be frigid, so I did not even see a fish come at the bugger in a couple prime lairs.  It’s a bit rhody back there, but Tom liked the pics I sent him—which finally delivered hours later when I had cell service, of course.  The walk in the woods was nice, but the real reason for the drive to a new spot was to toss a bugger in Fishing Creek for the second shift.  The clouds were coming, and it was raining in earnest by 2 PM, enough to soak me through.  It crossed my mind to toss raingear in the ‘Ru last night, but knowing it would be warm, I got lazy, I guess.  Like a mitch, I think I fished below a cold tributary, which was def not 45 degrees like in the sunny stretch where I took two readings in the morning, without thinking it through.  I guess I was too relaxed.  I moved nothing with Eric’s grinchy bugger, but I ran into a couple dry fly prospectors.  I got soaked walking back on the road to my second parking spot, so I sat on the back bumper under the hatch and took advantage of some bars (well, bar) on my phone to text Mom and Eric and Tom in that order.  I think I texted Sam to let him know the creek was being cooperative so far, as well.  

Some decent ones, and Sam's heavy walts working.

Man, the third shift almost didn’t happen, at least not on this creek.  The rain took a break before coming back later in the afternoon, but before it got too wet out, all kinds of trucks were in the spots that were empty early this morning.  In effort to find some elbow room and parking, I decided to fish a totally new stretch of the creek for what would be my last shift.  I know Fishing is a spring creek, but this stretch looked and fished like the Spring Creek.  It was mucky as hell in spots and totally a different approach as I worked my way up to a couple actual limestone springs.  The water even changed color to that limestone green, and the fish got spring creek pretty too (albeit Spring Creek average and smaller too).  I parked at a public lot and hiked the road down a few hundred yards before sneaking in behind some unoccupied cabins.  If it was going to pour again, I would piece this stage out in manageable increments.  

A lot of small spring creek beauties to end the third shift.  Rain got heavy too.

I landed at least 10 more fish in this short stretch, most in a less mucky and less woody riffle and run.  Nothing was over 11 inches, most were even smaller, but they were really pretty fish.  They all ate Eric’s thread baetis or a size 20 perdigon—still some olives and midges all day.  There was deep water and some prime lairs, so I am sure there are some better fish in here, though access is really easy, so weekend pressure is probably a bit crazy—I do fish Lehigh Valley limestoners like it’s my job, however, so pressure is relative.  It was good to see a third side of the creek, as Fishing Creek downstream closer to the confluence and its end is also different than this—it is a unique creek, for sure, but I guess many of the longer ones in PA are.  It was about 4 PM, so a couple more hours of possible fishing, when I reached my spot again, but the rain came on heavy at this time.  

B roll beauty.

I stayed wadered in case it stopped again and took a ride to scout in the other direction, below where I had fished earlier in the day.  I had more food and drink waiting for the rain to let up, even popped a couple preemptive Alieve, but around 4:30 PM, I decided that there would not be a fourth shift as the rain seem intent on falling.  The streamer rod was taunting me, but all my clothes and reserves were wet now, and I had just logged a ten hour day with a nice showing of fish.   I also thought about driving towards civilization and fishing closer to State College, perhaps meeting up with Sam for a beer or something, but like I said, all my clothes were wet and I’d been up since 3 AM.   I made the wise move and called it good.  A fifteen hour day on a little sleep, a lot of coffee, and a mess of early spring/late winter fish, my body would thank me for getting home at 7:30 not 9:30 PM.  Yeah, sometimes the long drive is worth it, though.

B roll before the rains came (again).  Until next time....