April 27, 2021 – Take the Good, Take the Bad: One of those Twelve Hour Tours – Lehigh River

One of the better ones, but not the one....

I took a ride to another large NEPA freestoner today to fish the lower water (for April).  Usually, one can’t get around much, at least safely, this time of year, but real rain appears to be a phantom this spring.  The upside is that the Lehigh today, like the Brodhead last week, was pretty darn accessible for this time of year.  Granted, the Lehighton gage was close to 560, so not summer flows yet, but not 1300 either.  We need rain, but I take the good, I take the bad, I take ‘em both, and there you have it.  I arrived in the lower gorge at 7 AM, and I ended the day upriver a good thirty minutes at a second spot about 6:30 PM, so it was a day—more like two days.  Day one began cold, in the high thirties actually.  I relied on my wading staff quite a lot for the first two hours, not wanting to fall in until at least noon.  Rocks in low water and with no tree shade yet seem to carry a special slickness with them, so I was prepared.  I considered felt and spikes today, but a few weeks ago I had sunk a few additional spikes into my everyday boots to supplement the Simms Hardbite star cleats, which are fine for most places, but for me not on the hard round rocks of the Lehigh, Brodhead, Lackawaxen, and so on.  I have a pair of felt with studs for such places, but the fit, comfort, and stability for a marathon day are no comparison with my G3’s in this category.   I was also giving my new 10’6” 4 weight nymphing stick its first day outside the garage.  It performed well, close to my 10’ 3 weight, just with more balls and slightly more reach, so the learning curve was brief. 

Big water, but not that big today.

Brief, but not nonexistent—of course the first fish I hooked in the cold, slow morning was a friggin’ 20 incher.  I fought him for ten seconds, then he took a run upstream that ended in a spectacular leap, and then he was gone.  I was fishing big bugs on 4X looking for such a fish, maybe even this fish.  When I was here with Jay last year, I hooked a beast that I never saw in the same great, big fish lie.  That time ended badly too, as the fish just ran downstream in not-560 CFS but more, and I had line around my reel handle that took my attention away for a few seconds while getting him on the reel.  No redemption today, at least not on this scale, but I did end the day with a flurry of great wild browns, including a good 17-inch wild one, another close to that size, and one nicer holdover brown, too.  When caddis emerged, I clipped off the 4X and big, size 10 jigs with soft hackle droppers, opting for 5X and a little trick.  Instead of split shot, I carry a bag of 3mm tungsten beads, so I can make a size 14 walts or caddis larva on the point into a 6mm double trouble, yo!  Countersunk not slotted beads actually slide nicely over an improved clinch knot too.  Sexy, you know?  Even sexier with a pink tag blowtorch on the dropper.

Slow motion stocker-fest after losing a first fish pig.

The first spot, well, I landed a consolation stocker brown from the same midstream boulder seam as the big fish I lost, then I had to fish a big glide downstream for at least an hour for three more porker stocked rainbows, while I rested the riffle upstream and/or waited for the warm-up to provoke more than midges on the water.  I even swung Eric’s micro-sculpin for a while and rose two but didn’t stick them, both bows as well.  Fat, lazy and so silver they were almost white, but like all bows, they never stop moving in the net, never really give up, so I apologize if pics are blurry (I also included the ol’ empty hand shot, where the bow beats the camera with a quick escape).  When I started seeing caddis flying upstream before lunchtime, I hung in this same general area even a little longer with nothing else to show for it. Cold, sunny, dropped pig, tough morning.  I decided to take a break, lose some cloths, and take a ride up into the gorge.  If caddis were down in town, they were up there too, perhaps stronger, I assumed—and I assumed correctly, finding two hours, maybe three, with clouds of caddis and rising fish, almost all of them wild browns.

Some second stop wilds and one porky holdover

It was a beautiful afternoon, warm but not crazy yet, so I took a longer walk away from the bikes and dogs after I had a little food and iced coffee at the ‘Ru.  The water looked even tamer here, and I know the wading at this spot very well, so I left the wading staff behind.  Mostly a good call.  No spills, but I had a close one in the literal eleventh hour:  Took a seat in six inches of water after releasing a trout, so I had to get an arm wet to lift my tired ass up.  It was worth the extra time out there, however, as the 4 to 6 PM shift was pretty magical.  No redemption 20, but a great 17 that fought his way all over the river before giving up, and at least 5 wild browns from 12 to 14 inches, plus the old long-time holdover stockie.  I dropped one other good fish, probably 16 or 17 as well, before a clean net job.  In @400 cfs, cold water, stream bred, well-fed, I needed the extra muscle that the long 10’6” blank’s butt section provides.  

A looker and another shot of the one I estimated at 17 inches.

I still need a day of tighline nymphing to really put it to the test.  I euro-nymphed the morning, but the second spot/shift/day required a bobber most of the time to get in the game.  Fish were rising on the opposite bank, or chasing emergers in current, so the suspended bugs gave the right presentation at a distance.  I got a couple closer on a tight line, and I tried to swing the tailouts and glides, but the water was moving a bit too much for my liking just steps off the bank.  It is good to get bobber reps in, anyway, as that is a nice tool to have on big water even in out of seasonal low flows.  It is also nice in hour 9 of 11 to rest the right shoulder.  My right shoulder probably looks like some bizarre version of a tennis pro’s forearm by season end—does the season end, though?  

Not dandruff or a dirty lens but a substantial caddis hatch to improve the afternoon.

I may have a window on Friday to conclude the month of April.  I also have a little lull between spring and my first summer session classes, depending on how fast I grade, so I hope May is even more fishy than April.  We need a week of rain, but until then, I will probably see the Brodhead, the Lehigh, maybe even the Lackawanna again this spring.  Since I lost a 20 as my first fish on the new rod, I am on the fence about whether that is good mojo or not, but I think the fisherman puts the mojo into the rod, which can’t be done in a day.  I gave it two or three trip’s worth in one spring day, so it is on its way there, I hope.  Tom is going to take my 10’ 4 weight off my hands, and know that has good mojo on it, even if you count this year alone.  I joked with him that I would have landed that first fish of the morning with it!

April 25, 2021 – He Gave Me another Shot at Him, Two Weeks Later – Valley Creek

A nice Valley fish that owned me a couple weeks ago in the same hole.

Two weeks ago exactly, Tom and I fished Valley in the rain and had a good day.  The only disappointment that afternoon was breaking off a big Valley fish in heavy cover, but I got a second chance at the same fish this morning.  It turned out much better, but it wasn’t all luck—there was some planning involved, at least on the fly.  Tom and I actually talked about fishing somewhere this morning, maybe a Berks County creek we both like, especially when we saw the rain forecast for last night, but the rain barely moved the gages, and he got roped into yardwork by his wife.  Me, I had done my grass cutting duties on Saturday, so I was free to go somewhere.  With the rain gone, however, I was more concerned about Sunday elbow room.  I also had a new rod to try out, but it is not a rod for Valley.  I decided that I would head towards a Chester County DHALO, where the luster may have worn off since Opening Day, but the persistent cloud cover urged me to get off an earlier exit and give a small stretch of Valley a shot before testing the new rod on stockies.  I arrived a little after 11 AM and ended up fishing two spots on the creek for nearly four productive hours, so I got lucky with fish and crowds.

Had to do some sneaking.  Very different conditions from our first meeting.

The first thing I did after suiting up and tying on a bomb walts and pinky as a dropper—well, the second, as I also clipped off a micro-streamer and sj worm that were tied on in anticipation of dirty water—was to sneak through the woods well away from the creek, which was low and clear already.  I wanted to get below a specific plunge angled into an undercut bank where I lost the good fish a couple weeks ago.  The water was dirty that morning, so Tom and I only saw flashes of how big it might be, but the fish pulled and stayed deep like a big brown before it took me into a mess of wood and broke me off.  Well, today I still had 4X on the tippet for this hole, and I was sneaking up in clear water and sunny conditions, as I mentioned.  Heck, I even took a knee and crawled into place before dropping the mono rig into the sweet spot. 

Woods are getting green.

The fish softly took it, but took it immediately, then did the exact same thing it did two weeks ago!  Right into the wood, hanging itself up in a matter of seconds.  With the water clear today, I could see him, a colored up male that I was going to wade into 4 feet of water and get with the net if I had to.  Well, keeping pressure on him, but not too much pressure, I felt and watched him work his way out of the wood he had wound himself through.  I didn’t waste much time letting him get back under that mess.  I chose instead to pull him towards the back of the hole if I could, and he complied long enough to get a net under him.  What a beauty!  For reference, I have measured and know the bottom of this net, the same one I use on bigger creeks for bigger fish, is 14 inches, so this fish was over 15 inches, maybe close to 16 (I also know my spread hand, thumb to pinky, is 8 inches, and this fish was probably two hands) .  When I texted Tom a pic, I said it was likely in the top ten of my Valley fish, and that remains true, I believe.

Quill perdigon, pinky, many smalls at the second spot before the wind kicked up.

I was worried about a first fish jinx after that.  Honestly, if you catch a 16 on Valley you are justified going home unless it’s streamer conditions.  I worked through this short stretch without another hit, though I did spook a few (a theme today in low water and high sun) so before heading somewhere to test the new rod on stockies, I drove to another parking lot for Valley.  There were plenty of people out, but I did not see fishermen, so I took a walk into the woods.  Knowing I was too deep and too heavy, I re-rigged on the shady banks with 5X and one of Eric’s quill perdigons.  I kept pinky on the dropper for a while, but eventually I ended up sight fishing and hunting fish with the one size 18 perdigon on the long mono rig.  I had enough fun to never leave, so my new rod will have to wait for Tuesday in order to get a workout.

Back to reality but fun.

I dropped a couple 10-11 inchers, but I landed a couple others and a bunch of 6 to 8 inchers too.  In total, I would say I landed another dozen trout, more if I counted all the dinkers too.  No risers or bugs besides an isolated caddis blown from the streamside vegetation, but fish were up in the heads shallow waiting for nymphs, at least until about 2 PM, when they got even more spooky.  Even being careful, a couple times I watched a school of fish of multiple sizes shoot back to cover from upstream in the riffles—this just happens sometimes.  Even if I had the room to lay out 50-foot casts with a dry dropper, in some spots these fish just know you are there.  It was still a fun challenge to hunt them.  I was so stealthy, I managed to not spook a pair of snakes basking on a log—I believe they were queensnakes not moccasins, but I used the camera zoom to get the close-ups anyway….  

Pretty snaky out there.

Frogs, salamanders, all the usual post-rain suspects were out.  The woods are getting green, and I welcome some shade in the not too distant future.  As the clouds all but disappeared, the wind picked up.  Nothing steady, but gusts just annoying enough that I had to change flies again.  Instead of the 18 perdigon, I tied on one of Eric’s walts in size 16 with a bigger bead.  It was not so heavy that it would grab bottom immediately, especially since it was fuzzier and would fall more slowly.  With the ability to keep the line a little tighter in the wind, I did manage a few more fish.  I lost more in the wind and with this new bug, however.  Another case of just a little too little hook bite, perhaps, but just as likely the wind and the bow in the line coupled with mid-afternoon spooky trout barely taking the bug.  Eventually, I got tired of the wind and dropping fish after the hookset and called it a day, albeit a good day.

Pretty little guys still a fun challenge to stalk in clear water and sun.

April 20, 2021 – A Great Birthday Present to Myself – Brodhead Creek

A Brodhead bully.

I used to laugh at my father when he couldn’t remember how old he was, but I had to do math today myself to confirm my own age, so it happens, I guess.  Besides ordering a new rod that should arrive this week, I decided to treat myself on my birthday to one more dance with my old 10’ 4-weight on one of my favorite creeks.  Flows on the upper gage were around 130, which is pretty good for moving around, but the lower gage was over 500 cfs, so where I fished in between was still a bit pushy.  With a wading staff, I was able to cross and fish a favorite stretch this morning—not bad for April and not bad wading for an old man.  I landed a 17” this winter, my last visit to the creek, but I lost one over 20 the same day, so I was hoping to find a good fish today, maybe even that fish if I was lucky.  I was loaded with big bugs and a long 4X mono tippet to plumb the snaggy depths.  I lost some bugs, of course, but the water was clear for April, so not as many as a typical winter excursion. It was chilly enough in the morning for me to wear a soft-shell hoodie over my thermals, but it was sunny and set to warm up, and it did, pushing 75 degrees before I headed for home around 3:30 PM.  As I mentioned, water was lower than most Aprils, one of the reasons I decided to fish the bigger water today, but it was still deep and dangerous even if the flow was clear.

Big water and 'burg beaver work.  No fish for over 3 hours....

The colder morning was slow.  I don’t think I had a bump for over 3 hours.  I was going quality not quantity, so I stuck with the plan for a long time.  Caddis and midges and even some larger mayflies were popping by day’s end, but I didn’t see any risers in the big water yet.  I saw a couple later in the day when I fished up-river a few miles.  I did see my winter white whale, however.  I spooked him out of the big rocky ledge where he owned me this January.  He is massive, and he just moseyed off to deeper darker water with his yellow fins flared.  Before I went down to investigate his lair and eventually spook him, I did stay way back and float some big bugs, even dead drift a bugger, past where I thought he might hide during the day.  It is a big fish spot: deep, softer water with easy access to a deep riffle and run, and more cover than any one fish needs.  If he wasn’t there, or the threat of him being there, it is the kind of spot where I may have spooked a dozen out from under the same type of ledge.  From a high vantage point, I saw more fish, out in the open but not making any moves to eat, but out in the open, nonetheless, so maybe waiting for the midday something to begin, like a hatch, you know?

Plenty of cover.

I didn’t give up on the dream, but based on the presence of olive and tan caddis, some of them big, I eventually did rig up with some deep bottom roller larva patterns and 5X.  That helped get the bugs down quicker behind boulders, plunges, heads of riffles—with high sun and clear water, those spots were my best bet of fooling a wise old trout today, even if with smaller bugs.  Around noon, after fishing for over 3.5 hours with nothing to show but a little sweat and a little sun tan, I hooked a beast.  I was out on a gravel bar between heavier current on both sides, and he was hidden behind a boulder in heavy current on the far side of the creek, so it did not take long for those pulsing head shakes of a large brown to become a run into current.  He went up at first, which would have helped me land him if he stayed upstream, but I had to turn him out of more boulders and then the bank at one point, so he eventually took off downstream too.  I just posted on Sunday about how valuable I find a 4-weight in these situations, but I was even wishing I had a 5-weight now.  When he pulled me down the gravel bar about as deeply as I could go without losing my feet, I held him tight while I shook my collapsible wading staff back together.  I inched myself and the fish upstream enough to feel safe wading again, but now we had reached détente.  

The bonus reel.

He wasn’t going to make any more runs if I didn’t let him, but he also wasn’t going to be pulled upstream into my net, not in this current, so with rod in one hand and wading staff in the other, I just said eff it and made a waist deep crossing.  Moving downstream with the current was not as fraught as I thought it might be, and I was rewarded at the end with some calmer water against the near bank, where this fight finally ended with a net job and a couple self-fish shots.  With the water so cold, I guess, despite the battle, this fish didn’t even rest after the fight, just move off at a decent pace into darker water.  I, however, needed to take off some layers, drink what was left of my water, and rest.  After texting some of my fly fishing buddies, I did fish my way upstream to my original crossing point without another bump.  I could see the nice day had brought out more fishermen of all ilks, so I knew I might have to choose my post-lunch break spot with care.  After drinking an iced coffee, sending a couple emails, eating some almonds, a banana, I took a drive to a popular spot with fly guys and other outdoor enthusiasts.

Eric's bug.  I get a peaceful easy feeling in 130 cfs.

The lot was pretty full, but I was just parking in order to take a longer walk.  Thankfully, the plan worked, and I had another favorite stretch to myself.  Man, I felt like superman wading up this far on the creek with only 130 cfs, but the water was very clear, so I knew I would still have to consider the bouncier water as cover for both the fish and me.  I went back to a big anchor fly, either a size 10 pt jig or hare’s ear jig, but with the presence of two kinds of caddis, midges, and a few mayflies to boot, the four additional fish I landed here took the smaller bug on the dropper—most on Eric’s fuzzy caddis pupa.  Three were rainbows that had moved up from the stocked section at some point, but they had good fins and color, so probably not from this spring but last spring.  One was about 11 inches and a leaper, which was fun.  By now, in order to reach over the current to the softer seams on the other side, and to give my aging body a rest in this heat, I began fishing a bobber.  Wind had continued to pick up from the South with the afternoon heat, so despite a couple tangles, the bobber was a good choice.  Not pretty throwing a bobber on a 30-foot mono-leader, but nymphing isn’t always that pretty, anyway, especially on bigger creeks. 

Back to reality in the second shift.

I did land one more smaller wild brown on Eric’s bug, but after another rainbow and a tangle, I decided that I was not going to fish a third shift.  A modest birthday celebration with the family waited at home, anyway.  It is amazing that even on a challenging day, the charge of a good fish can make it all worth it.  I often like numbers days, but big fish are worth the effort, even if it means fewer chances.  This was my first 20 of the young year, just 29 trips in so far for 2021, and bigger is out there, I know.  Sam sent me a shot of a 22” nymph fish that he landed last week in between guiding trips!  I am not a size queen, anything over 12 makes me happy because wild fish that big are all the fun anyone could need most days, but I do anticipate more days hunting for piggies this year.  If my aging eyes can handle it, I may finally do the night streamer/mouse thing in Central PA this summer, something I have talked with Sam about for years now!  Until then, or some more substantial rain, more Lehigh Valley limestoners with caddis imitations in my more immediate future....

April 18, 2021 – Eventually It All Came Together – SEPA Blueline

Took a while but the fish eventually cooperated.

Eric and I took a ride over to our little spot this morning.  I had an appointment for that good Pfizer stuff at 2:45 PM, so we wanted to get out early.  It was a bit chilly, and the water was still frigid with low-average and clear flows, so fishing was slow before 9 AM.  I got four tiny fish in the first 90 minutes while Eric made many bug changes trying to figure things out.  Almost all my fish came on pinky—a size 16 soft hackle jig with a 2mm pink tungsten bead, though a few came on Eric’s walts or caddis larva on the point, too.  Midges up to size 18 were ever-present, but as the morning progressed, we started seeing a variety of bugs.  Caddis were the most prevalent and the ones that got fish to rise, so no surprise pinky on the tag killed today, but we also saw isolated olives, craneflies, even a couple large yellow stoneflies—which I failed to capture for a photograph at least twice. 

An early, chilly start with some dinks and one decent fish in 90 minutes.

The highlight of the first hour was seeing a state record-sized sculpin.  I think 5 inches is an old sculpin, and this thing was close to 7.  Maybe it was not the common mottled kind but some other variety—I thought I had spooked a sea robin for a minute!  After the four dinks tight to an undercut bank and root ball, I finally landed a real-sized fish in the first rooted-up hole where Eric and I confirmed first-hand the presence of wild browns in this creek just over a year ago now.  If you may recall, our one year anniversary on the creek did not go well.  Thankfully, it was all uphill from this fish.  It got warmer and buggier, so when we approached a favorite plunge pool, now with more wood in it, it was game on.  Eric landed a nice fish, then I did too, and we may have even taken a third out of there before moving on.

Eric's first nice fish.

In a great log jam at a bend where we often pull multiples, I landed one nicer fish.  However, upstream in the deep flat, fish were starting to chase adult caddis with splashy and sometimes unsuccessful rises.  Most were dinky, but at least two were nice fish for this small freestoner.  Eric had brought an extra spool, and I was fishing a mono rig on my 9 foot 4 weight loaded with a WF line behind the leader, so I too could have switched to dry fly fishing within 5 minutes, but we decided to give them a shot with our small nymphs instead.  We never did catch one of these spooky fish, but we targeted and landed plenty more risers in better nymphing water where our approach was concealed without resorting to crawling.  I actually tried to get one on an elk hair caddis on the way back, but I put them down.  We decided to carry two rods next time, as the spring caddis fun has only just begun.  

Another of Eric's plumpers.

Another highlight today was that fish were coming from holes that we always try and rarely or never find cooperative fish—like the mouth of a tributary, today more alive with caddis than the main branch.  A couple fish that came from these places that have always looked too good to be true were actually better fish for this creek, where a 10-incher elicits, “Good fish, fella.”  In turn, some reliable spots did not produce or spots that usually produce a couple produced 3 and 4 fish.  Just when you think you know a crick, winter comes around and changes conditions on the field.  At least the fish have only moved a little and have not been washed away.  By June, they will be spread everywhere again, I am willing to bet based on last year's experience.

Pretty parr marks, pretty scenery, plus that walts did get eaten (not ALL pinky today).

Around  11:30 AM, close to my proposed quitting time of noon, we decided to turn back and fish again a couple spots that didn’t produce or meet expectations earlier in the morning instead of forging ahead.  Before that turn back, we had a solid flurry of nicer fish in one of those aforementioned holes that usually only produces one or two.  I even got one at this spot on the way back after resting it for barely 15 minutes to let mud clear, and Eric took one out of a similar spot where I had come up dry earlier.  It was on the way back that I tried a dry fly to no avail—still on the mono rig and just a dry-dropper rig on my nymphing leader.  Fish were still rising here, but with clear water, I easily put them down after one short cast.

Almost didn't get him out of all that mess behind him.

When I re-rigged, I just tied on a single size 16 pheasant tail jig, which ended up being a great choice, at least for one productive spot.  I large tree, maybe a neighboring one or a larger fork of the same as well, lay over the creek here.  I usually can coax one in the scour under and below the tree, but today I swung the pt under the front of the tree and landed a little guy.  This is a big fish spot in theory, and the swing had worked, so I casted again, doing the same thing—casting it upstream to get the bug below the logs and branches and letting it swing underneath.  With Eric as witness, a thick 12 to 13 inch male took the bug and started digging under there.  I was having flashbacks of the recent Valley trip with Tom when a similar fish in a similar spot broke me off.  Not today, and not that he didn’t try.  At one point the fish did get stuck, but like fishing docks or something, I just stayed tight enough and he swam out again long enough for me to net.  Somehow the 5x tippet was not even frayed from all that, and the knot held.  The result was the handsome fish above that also opens this post. 

Some of my b roll beauties

My birthday on 4/20, so along with a new rod on the way, I am taking only my second trip to the Brodhead of the year this week.  The new 10’6” 4-weight won’t be here in time, so my current long 4-weight and I will have one final fling on Tuesday.  She has been good to me, and she is going to a good home with the Silver Fox and his bride not into the retirement tube in the garage or something.  Plenty of good mojo on that stick!  Even though I use hip(ster) techniques, I guess, I am a bit old school and feel way under-gunned with a 3-weight on big rivers.  I even have a 10’ 5-wt. that comes out once in a while.  I am hoping for one more banner day this week before breaking in the new rod later this month, perhaps even next week.  Another busy one at work, like last week, just too many meetings and committee work for an accreditation visit on top of my usual teaching load, but I am going to make the most of my Tuesday, at least.  A day like today helps with the FOMO, for sure.

April 12, 2021 – A Few for the Smoker – Wissahickon Creek

Where'd he find such a contraption?

Eric got off work a little early, so I met him down the street for about 90 minutes before he had to be back for his daughter’s bus stop pickup.  The creek in my neighborhood has been a little depressing and challenging.  It is looking more like a flood plain and less like a creek every year, and I have a feeling that the Commish knows this stretch gets more marginal every year, as they have curtailed stocking to just two times for the season for a few years now.  Add little to no help stocking, all the efforts going to the Penny and Stony, it seems, since they have an interested group that the PFBC can contact for help during Covid, and I don’t see stocking continuing much longer here even when normal returns.  The irony is that the Commish likes when the resource is “utilized,” which is the reason they cited for cessation of fall stocking on the Wissy in the City years ago, but this spot surely gets used.  There are always cars in the lot, mostly bank fishermen in the easy to access spots.  Last year, all the fish were dumped near the bridge, so social distancing was a joke, and even on Mentored Youth day mid-afternoon, the boy and I had a hard time finding an open spot.

A brown on Eric's egg pattern

Well, Eric got himself a new smoker, and he had been picking away at the fish for a few days in one particular hole that must have been loaded up.  Since we hadn’t gotten out in a while, I welcomed the chance to take a break from work and hang with a mitch for a while.  Perhaps because the creek was still high and muddy after the Sunday rain, it was a challenge, but we landed a few in his spot before it shut off.  We moved down to some spots where the boy and I moved fish before Opening Day, but had no luck before a quickly approaching quitting time.  Good to get out for some air and fish, but the creek is in bad shape, and lines were in all the trees and snags, signs the creek has been loved since MY Day.  There was even a likely unlicensed dude hand-lining and tossing fish in the weeds behind him.  Maybe he forgot his stringer?  Yeah, right….  I have lived in my current house for about 13 years, so this park has been good to me, and Eric, and my son and dad, but I do foresee this convenient spot’s imminent demise.  As I have said before here, time to teach the boy to fly fish and surf fish!

April 11, 2021 –Some Swampy Small Stream Sneaking with the Silver Fox – Valley Creek

Photoshoot.

A slow steady soak today eventually added up to prime nymphing conditions in the upper reaches of Valley Creek.  Tom wanted to fish, and I have turned down his offers to meet at Valley in the Park or Chesterbrook for the last couple of pleasant weekend afternoons, but today’s weather had my number.  We met around 12:30 on a stretch where he has never fished, despite being a frequent Valley visitor.  It started out slow for a couple reasons, perhaps, but by the end of the afternoon we had a blast on some nice fish—even what seems like a given for me this spring: me losing a very nice fish, a couple inches bigger than the one posted for the ‘gram (tail up, yo!) to start this post. 

Silver Fox getting in some reps.

Early in our walk downstream, we ran into one fly guy coming back, so not everyone stays home in a little rain.  He was all about one word, caddis.  I did not see many today, about as many caddis as I did olives, and the rises mostly looked like mayfly rises.  Based on dude’s intel, however, I started out with a caddis pupa pattern, but Tom had on a basic hot spot frenchie, and he was getting bounced more than me.  So reason one for the slow start was the need to go baetis not caddis, and reason two was that dude had already worked through these rather clear holes, perhaps recently and with a caddis, so fish were a little skittish.  When I made a switch to one of Eric’s CDC jigs in size 16 on 6X tippet, and the creek started to cloud up a little more, it was game on for both Tom and me.  We both fished a single mayfly jig pattern for about 4 hours, and we landed at least 20 fish, probably more, taking turns working through every plunge, undercut, and bend pool. For the small creek, I was using my 9 footer with a mono rig, which was a good choice today.

A couple of Tom's better ones; starting to stain up after the slow soaker.

If we started fishing by 1 PM, by 2:30 PM we could expect a couple opportunities at every likely spot, and that expectation also means more fish in the net, better hooksets, and so on.  The water is pushing close to 60 degrees, so the fish are in prime fighting shape too.  We had blast, even jokingly posing 11 and 12 inch fish the way you see them posted in magazines and Instagram to make them look huge!  And because Tom was getting so many reps, we actually worked on his tightline game along the way, so not only did he catch more fish, but he may catch more fish next time too.  Because we were taking turns in tight quarters, one dude sneaking up to a spot while the other hung back or behind the less intrusive shoulder, I could coach the way I had been coached.  But sometimes it is easier to just show someone what you do.  I often ask Sam, for example, to show me how he would approach a particular hole and just watch him.  Not in a creepy way, I think?

Still loyal to Eric's bugs.  This one had the right formula.

Well, at a perfect “big fish hole,” one where Tom was up and I had called big fish as we approached, Tom did the same thing.  He stepped out after not getting a bump and basically said, Lemme me see what you do here.  Too perfect, then, that my demonstration resulted in me hooking a big Valley fish, or a Valley-big fish, from the fight and flashes of body we both saw, at least 14 inches.  Too perfect, then, that he broke me off in a deep mess of wood too!  Can’t blame Eric’s fly this time, as the same fly landed probably a dozen fish.  This fish just broke 6X tippet.  It was one of those close to impossible situations where I say to myself, I might hook a fish here, and he could be a good one, but there’s no clear endgame.  I did okay keeping him out of the first couple obstructions more out in the open, but then he dug for the undercut, and I just tried to hold him out of there with a little more muscle than 6X can muster, I guess.  *Ping*  

Tom didn't let me pose, but we made another decent fish ready for the 'gram.

At least there was the redemption story to follow today, which tends to happen on good days or when I am having a good day, all cylinders firing. Taking Tom’s success in mind and not dude’s caddis call, I tied on a single size 16 frenchie with a hot spot for the final yards of this stretch. After landing a couple more each, I pulled a Valley average out of a culvert, so Tom was on deck for my last favorite hole in this stretch.  He pulled a good 9 or 10 inch fish out of there, so I got to give it a shot too.  My best fish landed today came out of another tight spot, between an undercut and two intersecting logs.  Where I landed the cast and where he hit meant fish or snag, like many spots bigger fish wedge themselves into, and luckily it was a good fish.  He had a head on him, so he will be bigger once he packs on his post spawn weight again—it won’t be long with many more caddis and craneflies on the way.  Unlike the first nice fish a few minutes prior, I got this one to the back of the pool and got a net under him.  Of course, we had to pose this one with the tail up…  Maybe I will hold a nice fish backwards for the next post?  It was a fun afternoon with good company close to home, and good warm day to get soaked.

Some lovely B roll too.

April 7 and 8, 2021 – I Had Good News and Bad News for Eric – Northampton County Limestoners

Only dinks to hand and only after a fly change.

Man, I had a challenging couple of days on the water this week.  I have some creek pics and a bunch of dink shots to show for about 7 hours spread over the two days. Okay, I may have a shot of one 10-incher from this morning, but it was pretty bad and not for the usual reasons.  It was technically not my fault.  Each time I have been out this spring, and I’ve sent pics to Eric, he’s asked if the fish was on his fly.  Some of them were, of course, but I do have confidence patterns that I gravitate towards unless I consciously go for one of Eric’s.  I beta tested some of his flies on Fishing Creek after putting together a solid run on my confidence patterns for early spring—larva on the point and something small and baetis on the dropper with all the midges and blue-winged olives around.  In March, I put a bunch of his nymphs in a small dedicated box as a reminder to fish some more of them.  Some are waiting for more consistent caddis time later this month, and I have used his walts and frenchies for a year now with great success, but there were a bunch of perdigons that I needed to try.  Well, as the title suggests, I have good news and bad news for my boy Eric.

Fished well (if I landed any).

First the good news:  I went out late morning on Wednesday in high sun, heat, and pretty normal to low water, so rather poor conditions to fish midday, and I landed about five dinkers.  But the creek, which can be very difficult, was fishing really well.  On his blue perdigon, I hooked probably ten more fish that all got off!  I even lost a good small stream fish that was pushing 16 inches or more.  After losing a 12-incher after a brief battle, and then another about 11, I thought it was me, but I lost so many fish on that same fly!  I think the ratio of hook size to amount of hook covered by the body of the fly to the size of the bead, it just all has to be perfected and balanced more.  They look awesome, so I used them with confidence until I was like, “Man, I am not this bad!”  We all have bad days, and I have plenty, but a pattern was forming that went beyond the fish being skittish in the conditions and bad hooksets.

Dink dink.

Many, including the little pig, popped the damn fly, and I got a good hookset, but I think every fish I hooked on that perdigon got off and quickly.  In order to land a few, and confirm my suspicions, I had to put a basic CDC pheasant tail the same size as the perdigon on the dropper.  I was reluctant to blame the fly.  For one, Eric is my buddy and his flies have been very effective in the past.  The other reason is that I was quick to blame his grinchy bugger for losing a pig on the Lack, and it ended up my fault for pinching down a barb.  I gave the perdigons way too many chances as a result.  The minute I changed the dropper, I had success keeping fish on, but it was already too late.

Need some rain, duracell still works, of course the 5-incher stays on the gasolina!

Jump ahead to today, and I actually got out earlier to fish another creek in the same region.  I was hoping for some redemption for me, and young Eric!  Today, I had one of his blue-collar Duracells (no CDC, so basically an ice dub walts) on the point and a gasolina perdigon on the dropper.  Like I said above, I was far too willing to entertain that I was just having a day yesterday.  The fish were not as cooperative on the whole this morning, despite the more advantageous timing, so fewer opportunities on the whole, but dammit if I didn’t jump another pig on the perdigon.  This was bigger than the one yesterday!  I think I landed nothing but dinks, and only one on the perdigon this morning.  The only real sized fish I landed was on the Duracell, and I lost a second fish over 13 inches on the same gasolina.  Remember that scene from “Caddyshack” when the Bishop is having the game of his life until he’s not?  I definitely shouted “Rat Farts!” (only not the PG version) to the sky, and thankfully was not struck by lightning.  The culmination of a challenging couple of days was dropping yet another fish when I returned to the big fish run where I jumped the pig earlier in the morning.  That was it, I started walking back to my spot and taking mental notes on Eric’s perdigons.  

The only halfway decent fish I could land in two days, and it's, what, 10 inches?

Artist rendering...

I may have to pick the brains of a couple of Sam’s local guide buddies for their formula.  My educated guess is the list I shared above: hook size to bead size to amount of body material.  I guess I will go back to confidence flies when I get out again?  I talked to Eric yesterday and today, and we agreed that this is why we beta test his bugs, but he tied a bunch of those same perdigons and has several in his own box, so he was pissed too. I know he talked to the guys at the fly shop about the hooks, and he used a formula to size the beads, but I assured him it was more the formula for these particular hooks than the materials, something to do with size of the gap and the hook length with the size bead on them, just not enough bite.  So frustrating.  I think we need rain, so I can throw something bigger than size 18 at them that they’ll consistently eat.  A good day beating them up on size 14 blowtorches or something, maybe that will get me right in the head again!