June 23 and 24, 2021 - A Few Hours of Social Fishing from the Sand – Ocean County, NJ

Fishing lessons and social visits, but a couple shorties messed with.

I went to the beach and visited with my mom and my sister’s family during their vacation.  Besides seeing my 3-year-old niece play in the ocean, I also planned to give my brother-in-law Uncle Ben a promised crash course in fishing 101.  He and my sister lived in Denver for a decade or more, but he only fly fished a couple times out there.  He has recently expressed more interest in fishing, and he inherited a rod from Joe’s shed during the big liquidation this spring, so it was time to get out.  I had work stuff going on, but I got down about 2 PM on Wednesday and left probably 24 hours later.  We had a casting lesson on the surf on Wednesday night after dinner and a visit to the bait shop for some bucktails and Gulp in case he wanted to get out on his own after I left.  We ran out of daylight quickly and snagged a lot of post-Claudette grass—which hung around on Thursday morning too, unfortunately.

Pretty morning and some mitches

Dolf was also on the island having a family get-away.  I was urging him since last week to get a boat lined up for Wednesday, but I guess he only had one car, a wife, and two teenage girls, so all he could commit to was a couple hours this morning.  Ben and I picked him him up outside his hotel for a little Barnegat Bay walk.  The water was dirty and pretty weedy, and the tide was coming in cold.  I like to fish this spot on the outgoing because it’s warmer and because the structure is more reachable with light tackle, but I landed two shorts and Ben lost one.  Dolf just looked pretty.  It was good to have another dude coaching Ben, though, and it was just good to see a mitch anyway.  We have not fished together since the fall striper run concluded.  I did not know it was Dolf’s check-out day, so we literally fished 90 minutes with a 30-minute hike in there, so 2 hours on the sand tops.  It was a beauty morning, and the entire thing was a social trip, so it was all good.  I will be back down a couple times in July, I am sure.  I am due to fish with Dolf and his brother-in-law Jeff, aka my boy Sandy Dunkin, and maybe Jeff and I together will convince Dolf to leave dry land.  Weather permitting, I also have a July small charter trip with the Wardman, so July posts might be fluky or weakie.

June 18, 2021 – Am I Turning into an Old Man? – Little Lehigh Creek

Early summer shift, though cooler morning.

They say we all turn into our parents, and turning 52 this year and losing my own old man less than two years ago has maybe put that in focus.  I mentioned that on the Lackawanna I spent probably 20 minutes talking to another older dude about fishing, and I found myself in another in-depth conversation with another angler today too!  They were both older than me, but not that old that they saw me as a whipper snapper.  I used to get away with a wave and even a stink eye, like I wish you weren’t out here on my turf today, but now, apparently, I am that guy who talks to you if you want to talk.  I am an introvert too, and you’ve probably noticed how often I like to fish alone, but I must channel my dad at times.  Even before I spoke to the other angler, a grandpa was out taking a hike with kids this morning, and I made a total Joe comment to the kids, like, “I hope grandpop is taking you for ice cream after this,” or something to that effect.  That was my old man.  He called everyone “babes,” too, which they thought was funny, but we knew it was because he’d forgotten your name.  So forgive me, Pamela, the Orvis AF lady angler (and a surf fisher too) I spoke to this morning if I call you babes next time we run into each other—no sexism intended.

Small bugs, 6X, 3WT kind of day.

This was just a fun fishing day, no expectations, but knowing this is a spot where it is hard to avoid social gatherings I was out early—though not that early.  I actually went here because I slept through an alarm and woke at 4:30 AM, ideally when I would have liked to have been on the road.  The Little Lehigh is only 45 minutes away before traffic, and I had not fished it since last summer, maybe, so I just jumped on a highway or two and was fishing by 6:30 AM.  No one was out yet, besides exercise enthusiasts, so I should have fished the honey holes, but I wanted to throw small bugs in pocket water instead.  Of the several creeks in the area, this one had the best flows and even a little color, so it was a fun and effective choice.  I had to chase two gear fishing parties out of the Heritage FFO section on a Friday, so no doubt the fish get pounded even more these days, and no wonder the “supplemental” stockers increase every year in a Class A creek.  At least the bugs and water quality are fantastic, and it’s catch and release, so the stockers look great and fight well.  I even caught at least three brook trout—which smells like a TU thing…  One bow was hot and nearly perfect, so it could have been one of the few wild bows in the creek. 

Some wild browns in there with all the stockers.

Plenty of small to average wild browns cooperated too.  I turned one better sized brown with a hook set, but after catching stocked browns in this stretch the last few years too, including a good one today, I will not commit to it being a missed opportunity at a good wild fish.  I had fun regardless, catching about 15 fish between 6:30 and 10:30 AM on small bugs.  The hot bug was def a size 16 bomb walts, especially on the browns, but the rainbows loved Eric’s version of my fav Saucon Creek bug, a brown hare’s ear nothing—I now call it the brown daub in honor of the billboards along Route 33 in the ‘Burg area for a local car dealer than also sounds a little like the results of a shart, to be honest.  I guess with a CDC tail, this fly could be called a shart too?!  Note to self.  Anyway, small natural bugs work on these pressured fish.

At least they are primo stockers who get to live here.  Some of the rainbows look too good.

There was a brief caddis hatch, so I fished the same set of riffles again when that started.  I caught fish both times through, and many of the wild fish the second time.  The warm up probably helped too.  It was 55 degrees to start this morning.  On my walk back to the parking lot, I did not see hordes of trico chasers, but I did witness a decent cloud of them myself, so either it is beginning, or today was an off day because of the colder temps, or I just started something by mentioning them here.  I will leave others to decide and pray for rain so that I can return to my other favorites in the area that have been less compromised by time and fishing pressure. 

Not mad a brookies anyway I can get them.

I felt kind of bad chasing a mom with two sons tossing a spinner not 20 yards from the famous Rat Hole, and the other dude was fishing a magnet on a float and said he is strictly catch and release.  Both thanked me for letting them know their error.  However, I did see at least two dead fish, likely rainbows, in the water as I waded, so either deep hooked or commanded to release from a stringer by the Commish or another concerned fly guy like myself.  Not that fly guys fishing hatches midday in 90 degree heat don’t kill fish!  Plenty of that here as well.  Either way, dead fish.  I guess I was feeling capable of social fishing today, but now that I write this, I am thinking that maybe I won’t let it happen again.  See you in January, babes?

Loved the 16 waltz, they did.

June 16, 2021 – Like a Central PA Day in NEPA – Lackawanna River

A good fish.

The Lack is about two hours away, and I was fishing this morning by 5:45 AM, four or five fish in by 6:30 AM, so you have an idea how early my day started.  Even on a cooler day like today, that is the summer grind that has started much earlier this year.  At least there are still fishable water temps for the time being.  With a couple breaks to eat or just sit and enjoy the breezy and cool day, I fished until after 8:30 PM too.  It was not steady all day—there is that lull this time of year after 11 AM typically—but I caught enough fish to have lost count around 20 before my lunch break.  Many of the fish were solid thumpers too.  Besides the one a couple clicks over 20 inches pictured to the right here, I had two others in the 17- to 18-inch class, a few more in the 14- to 15-inch class, on down young of the year.  Too much to tell here to create a narrative with any coherent timeline, really, but I will try to break down what I remember of my awesome long day—perhaps three shifts makes sense.  I don’t think I overdid it with pics, so this shouldn’t be pages of collages....

A good start too.

My first fish was a solid 13 inch brown, and like I said, I had maybe five fish before I checked a notification on my phone at 6:30 AM.  I landed the first good fish in this early shift, a fat one at least 17, but the highlight had to be the sighting of a pig, which I may have landed later and/or tangled with in March when I was here.  The water was really low this year, so unlike previous years at this time, I had only a light pick fishing the riffles and pocket water all day, which was the plan I had before I arrived, at least through that midday lull.  I think with the drought conditions and hot weather earlier in the month and late May, instead of migrating to the oxygen-rich riffles to gorge on larva and emergers, the fish had to sink back to the holes for safety.  As a result, they seemed to be bunched up a lot like in the winter—all the year classes, with the better fish in the better fish spots and the dinks and YOY in the tailouts and wherever they could find some space.  That mixing in the same hole can’t be good for the little fellas, but it’s good for fattening up the pigs.  To whit, before 7 AM I had a big wild brown try to eat a YOY off the end of my line.  She made a couple swipes too, undeterred by my presence all dressed in drab in the lower light conditions of 7 or 7:30 AM.

Not how it was supposed to go!

I wasted no time in tying on the first streamer I could find.  Unfortunately, I could not get that fish to come back, at least for another 8 hours!  I got an average fish to eat it, and even a dink as well before switching back to the nymph.  I kept working upstream with another deep spot in mind.  I caught a pig in March here, and I usually can count on a couple good fish—today I caught nice fish on the first shift AND the third shift.  With the river so low, I knew they would have their heads right up in the plunging water, so I put on a big caddis larva and added an extra 4mm bead for weight.  I got a couple this way, but then I put that jigged streamer back on, one of Eric’s, also with the added weight, and started hopping it in the meat of the deep riffle and eddy. 

But that's more like it.

For some time now, I have been carrying one of Kenny’s 1/8 ounce hair jigs with this same potential scenario in mind, so it was not an entirely impromptu move.  It worked.  I took a nice 15 incher this way and a couple smaller fish.  I even stung my first potential beast of the day.  Hop, hop, and then a soft and heavy stop.  I thought I was snagged on wood, and eventually I was.  The pig just kept digging deeper into the unseen mess.  I did the old bass move and kept tight, just hoping he might work his way out.  I could feel head shakes and thumps, but the fight was going nowhere, confined to a couple feet.  I eventually got the streamer back without a fish, but my mind was reeling about another possible spot downstream where I might scare up another pig before the morning got too late—it was probably 9:45 AM by now.  The plan didn’t work out, but I caught more fish in this other deep hole than I ever have before.  The streamer got no love, but the caddis larva with the extra weight of two big tungsten beads did scare up some smalls and a couple average fish.

Targeting the deep bouncy stuff worked.

My first disappointment about the potential of riffles and pocket water happened after this.  I worked a shaded bank with all kinds of rhody overhang and only took one small fish.  Around 11 AM, I decided it was lunchtime, but I continued to work this pocket water for a few dinks until after 12 noon.  I was ready to eat and fill up my water bottle, even down a cold brew (the coffee kind, though the beer sounds nice now) but instead got into a long conversation with another fly guy who was just fresh air inspecting.  We picked each other’s brains about NEPA spots and compared notes on our euro-nymphing rods—he noticed that my 10’6” 4 weight was the same one he used in 3 weight—so it wasn’t until close to 1 before I sat down on the bumper of the ‘Ru and took a long (for me) rest and finally ate some lunch.

Pocket water, not so much.  Double double caddis.

For shift two, I thought to abandon the plan of working a long run of riffles, but I stuck to it with one alteration.  I drove to another spot that at least begins with some holes, and then I moved very quickly and only targeted water over 18 inches deep, only spending time at a couple decent holes.  Fish were caught, but it was slow between holes.  I also dropped at least 5 while beta testing one of Eric’s gasolina perdigons—I think this one did not have the changes in hook gap that he made on later iterations, so I had the same issue as I had earlier in the spring with this one.  When I switched bugs, I landed a few in the deeper holes.  

More deep plunge fish.

It was getting windy at times.  It had been pleasantly breezy since late morning, but I needed to make several bug changes and fish with two hands to control line belly and all that. I moved quickly through marginal spots, but I did not abandon the juiciest looking pockets.  When I saw a few tan caddis, I went to one bug for the last set of riffles in this stretch of water, the old trusty CDC pink tag fly.  It’s a bigger bug but bulky, so it was the right tool too.  The line management was better because of the bigger bead, but the fall was slower.  I hooked, fought, and landed my second fish in that 18 inch range with this bug before turning back for my second break of the day, so it was a good thing I kept trying those better pockets.  One fish made it worth it.

Not all the pocket water was a bust, however!

That was a good fish to end the day on, but I had a feeling that the evening could be great since most fish had been inactive since late morning.  There was even a chance of some late season sulfurs or other big mayflies showing in the final hours of daylight.  I debated heading home, but decided to eat and drink and sit some more after driving back to the spot where I started the morning.  What I really wanted was that cannibal pig to show up again!  It was a good call.  I landed another 10 to 12 fish, including a big old brown.  I sent a pic to Tom, and he was like, “Whoa, is that thing 23 inches?”  I don’t think so but it was over 20 by an inch or two, so his eyes are good.  After a long battle, I had a choice between getting a tape on the fish or getting a photo shoot.  I went with pics after doing a hand measure and the net estimate.  I've caught fatter fish this spring, but this was the longest this year, for sure.  By now, I was throwing Sam’s sexy walts to get deep and a size 16 caddis pupa on the dropper.  The caddis pupa, with some latex body cleaned up during the third shift, but it was Sam’s bug that fooled the pig hugging the bottom in this bouncy spot.

In retrospect, taping him might have trumped the mediocre photoshoot...

I fished the deeper seams of the hole with a bobber to give my shoulder a rest after, what? ten or twelve hours of fishing, and I couldn’t keep the smalls off that dropper.  It was clear the better fish had moved up into the prime parts of the runs, under that bouncier water, so I spent my last hour fishing another deep run upstream.  I got another solid fish on the walts here and stung a couple with a streamer to end the night.  I waited for sulfurs and saw about a dozen of them before I thought it wise to cross the creek with sufficient daylight.  Good call, as I did slip and get a wet arm while fighting what would be my last fish.  

Rise east, set west.  Long day.

Some of the rocks in this hole are like ice, so it could have been worse (or it could have been during my March trip when it was cold and the creek was pushing 250 not 75 CFS!).  I was excited that I had another pig, but this was just another one about 15 inches but with a very bad attitude.  It may have been the only bigger fish that jumped today.  A couple small fish, and one larger one, did make moves at the mayflies, but I had neither the energy nor the light to switch out leaders at this point.  I didn’t think I was going to top my day in the final 30 minutes of light, anyway, though I did toss a streamer for a while in the tailout.  No takers, so I hiked out and began the long, but not that long, drive home.  Besides the one silly day on the Brodhead this spring, this was the best day of 2021 so far.  I thought about Central PA this week, but I was glad I stayed a little closer to home.  Wow, you know?

Pretty. Low. Some B reel from the early shift.

June 13, 2021 – Quite the Unexpected Adventure – Berks County Limestoner

Flowering catalpas providing the shade.

Taking advantage of cooler temperatures and better flows, I decided on Saturday night that I would sneak out early on Sunday morning and fish a Berks County creek that I have not fished since the winter or very, very early spring before it was off limits in March.  It is a stocked creek with some pockets of wild fish, but most of them (though certainly not all) are small—the wilds that is.  The creek has great bug life and cooler flows than your average freestoner due to some limestone influence in the tributaries, so the fish hold over really well here too.  As a result, I avoid the creek until June and also love to fish it in the fall and winter when it’s only me and a handful of other fly guys who bother to fish it (three of us during the weekdays).  This solitude and mixed bag was what I was expecting this morning: some pretty and healthy holdovers that the bait crew had forgotten about, along with some small to average wild fish once in a while, all in a shady wooded area hopefully not teeming with mosquitos yet (not yet anyway, but gnats are out!). 

Would have been content with this.

The population fluctuates here, but the swing has been up in the last couple of years.  Today, I found the hen that likely birthed a good number of my small friends over the years.  I always assumed reproduction here took place in those aforementioned tributaries, mostly in private hands, but I may have to look more closely for redds this fall because of her proximity to a historically rich cache of wild fish.  My adventure ended about as well as fighting a 19 or 20 inch fish with my 3 weight in a small creek full of woody obstructions on 6X with a size 18 perdigon in its mouth.  She had the dropper too, not the main line more firmly attached to my anchor fly.  I haven’t done the math, but I think I am back to batting 500 with these pigs during a spring where I had been enjoying better than all-star numbers with my at bats. 

Pretty holdovers, one bow all morning.

I was fishing by 6 AM.  I was shocked that another car was parked when I arrived, but there was another when I left, and both had hitch racks, so I think my only competition for these spots are road bike enthusiasts.  It is bucolic AF in this part of SEPA, so I am okay with sharing.  The pull off had a foot of water in it, and the early bird was in the only dry spot, so I had to dress out in the road, but thank goodness for a little ground clearance (and a little who cares if it gets wet and dirty) with the old ‘Ru.  I didn’t take a water temp, but the gage was showing low to mid-60’s after rising over 70 a couple times in the last week.  The water was higher and stained, so maybe a cell of storms had passed in the night.  These storms also raise the water temps this time of year, especially if they run off over hot road surfaces.  No surprise, then, that chubs were out.  I think they are spawning too, so even more aggressive than normal.  I caught a colored-up king chub later in the morning, and I also encountered smallmouth throughout the day, including one close to 13 inches, that I dropped before a photo, on down to several YOY who loved Eric’s perdigon.

Small wilds, small smallmouth

I started out tossing a caddis larva and a frenchie with a gold hot spot on the dropper.  Only the stockers took the dropper, but they were gorgeous, perfect fish.  For a couple, if I didn’t know better (I do) I would have called them wild fish at first glance.  More likely that they were multi-year holdovers, plus the Commish is stocking some browns that have much better diets and colors these days.  I did pick up a handful of small wilds on the larva too.  In a couple deeper holes, I switched out the larva to a bomb walts in size 16 and added a darker size 18 perdigon to the dropper.  It was the perdigon that opened up the buffet.  I landed a couple respectable wild browns, plus more holdovers, even the only rainbow of the day on Eric’s tiny natural-looking bug.

More wild browns.

I was fishing 6X, as I have mentioned, but as I approached a stretch of the creek where more wild fish are present, I had the forethought to switch out to 5X.  The water was stained, and the bugs I was using are designed to sink pretty fast, anyway.  Had that stop gone differently, there is a chance this post would have opened with a big old wild trout photo!  Maybe.  Anyway, I usually have a 5X spool on my tippet tender and an extra in the bag, but when I pulled maybe three feet off the spool on my tender and realized that was it, I could not locate more 5X in my pack.  I also dropped that three foot length somewhere in the grass.  Instead of going to 4X with a perdigon, not great, I re-re-rigged with 6X again.  The knots were good, as I landed a mess of fish with the new rig at a favorite deep run and hole.  The holdover browns, including more lovely fish, even a male that, short of an eye spot, I would have called wild, jumped on Eric’s perdigon and a bomb walts in equal measure.

More lovely holdovers; that one male in the top left though...

There were only signs of caddis and midges all morning, but the fish were up off the bottom and eating at this hour.  After a good run of fish here, I kept pushing upstream towards the two holes at the end of this stretch, the ones that made me want to switch to 5X.  I have never seen a huge fish here, and I have put in some time for many years here, but I have landed many over 12 inches.  Storms alter this stretch every year, and it is full of sand but also wood.  It is an obstacle course of down trees and undercuts piled with flood-deposited limbs.  I landed a couple small wild browns in a certain newer hole, meaning it has not always been this deep.  It is near a big fish lair, in theory, but I have never seen a big one here, and I would have—it is clear and low between the obvious structure.  Well, I tossed the bugs up into this new hole a third or fourth time, and saw a massive fish take.  I set the hook, and turned a big wild fish.  The minute she moved out of the darker depression and over the shallower sandy bottom, I could see just how big and wild she was.  In the sun, she was lit up electric like a mahi mahi, gold fins flared! 

That tiny bug on 6X a catch 22 itself.

This was a potential PB for this creek, and potentially another 20-incher.  Knowing I was fishing 6X and eventually confirming she had the smaller of my two flies, and on the dropper tag, I really just kept her tight and gently fought her for a couple minutes.  I even got behind her and tried to spook her upstream a few times when she looked ready to head down into her hiding spot, one of the aforementioned woody messes.  I could not stop her from eventually making a run for it, but I avoided disaster at least once.  She found one stick on the way to the undercut and was wrapped, so much so that I grabbed my net to try and salvage the landing—I was so convinced that this was going to be over soon.  As I approached, she spooked again and actually freed herself from that one.  But now she was below me and pulling drag towards more logs and limbs.  I chased and kept her from the obstructions again.  I was nearly below her again too.  I thought this was it, I had this one.  When I had a good opportunity to net, I went for it, and in the muddy water my pursuit had created, I actually thought I had the fish.  Nope.  She must have shot under my legs.  The tag was gone, along with the perdigon and the fish, and the anchor fly was in my gravel guard…

Everyone loves that little sculpin, I guess.  I actually see real ones here often.

After the dry heaves subsided, I fished the single walts through the rest of this stretch and kept taking a more smalls.  For the walk back, I switched to 4X and Eric’s micro-sculpin.  Now I had 4X, you know?  I had fun on the way back with a mixed bag of fish, including more wild browns, a couple decent small stream bass, and even #chublife.  I think I have had larger chubs eat a streamer on other creeks too.  They are a tough fish when they get to a certain size, sort of like the fallfish on the mighty Delaware.  By noon, I could not even get a follow, and I was close to the parking spot again, so I called it good.  Paradoxically, this would have been a good day with and without the big fish encounter.  Going out with low expectations and having them met or exceeded is a successful day in my book.  It is a catch 22, however!  Would it have been better if I just caught 25 or 30 trout on small bugs with 6X?  It also sucks that I actually took the time to make the right move, and I failed to have my bag stocked with a backup spool.  The through the legs thing?  Rookie mistake.  In the end, I will just say awesome day that could have been much more awesome.

June 11, 2021 – End of the Week, End of the School Year, End of an Era – Valley Creek

Tough start, but Tom and I did fool a few smalls with the nymphs around dinner time.

It’s been a busy seven to ten days.  Besides having a major paper due for my first class of the summer, which ends on June 14, it was commencement at work, and I had a couple meetings about a grant proposal/course release for the fall before I am officially done for the summer and harder to reach.  I am taking another accelerated class for my own degree too, so reading and writing a lot, even creatively at times.  That is all normal, although it was the boy’s last week of school, and we had a second vaccine shot appointment before he starts a few weeks of camp, so a bit busier than normal.  The kicker, however, was that this was also the week my mom and I finally decided to sell my dad’s bass boat!  I was fielding questions and offers all week, some the shady Craigslist kind, but it ended up not too bad.  The second guy I spoke to came down with cash on Thursday, and we did the deal with little fanfare.  Before that, I had to clean it up, get it running, and all that.  I had to play catch up on Friday with grading, but I actually got a lot done by early afternoon, so I was itching to mark the somewhat official end of the school year and accomplishing the mission of getting Joe’s bass boat in the hands of a family who can use it.

Magic hour had a lot to do with it, but Eric's sexy sculpin helped for sure!

It had been raining off and on all day, nothing too crazy, but steady and cool showers.  I decided to stalk a few streams on the USGS site and had a couple in mind, but then I thought of the Silver Fox working from home, probably stalking the Valley gage.  He actually was.  I decided some social fishing was in order, plus he was going to take my 10-foot 4 weight off my hands, along with a line and reel that was my dad’s—definitely a theme of cleaning out some of the less important memories this week, I guess.  Joe had just taken up fly fishing with me before he passed away, and the reel was like new, so really no sentimental value.  I did keep his 9 foot 5 weight for my boy, however.  Same with the boat.  My dad had a different boat and a different truck or SUV every two to five years.  I believe this tracker made our last trip to Canada, but it was not one of the boats that I was already missing, like a tank Xpress he let go a couple years prior because it was getting hard to push around the driveway with a dolly or crank up the ramp when alone.

Nearly dark before the 12-incher showed up.

It was about 5 PM before Tom and I were fishing the Park.  The water was not all that high, but like my last trip out, it was pretty dirty.  I was hoping fish would be in riffles, so we could beat them up on nymphs before maybe an evening hatch.  Perhaps because the water had gotten warm in the thunderstorms, fish seem to have pushed back a bit into deeper water, instead.  The water temp had also dropped several degrees in a day or two, so it was a bit challenging on the nymph.  Many short hits and fish getting off after half-hearted takes.  It was possible they weren’t seeing my offerings well, so I tried a bunch of likely nymphs, while also noting a few caddis and olives in the air, so not straying too far away from the naturals or resorting to worms (I thought about it, perhaps even out loud).  

Doesn't take much cover...

We ran into a dude in one hole near where we wanted to end up for the evening, so I pitched rigging with Eric’s sculpin and just working our way back to the parking spot.  That was the ticket, for action anyway.  We landed a good number of small fish and stung or moved a few better ones—in my case, one much better that I must have thought was a snag while jigging and tightlining the sculpin not swinging it.  I did land one about 9 inches and, just before dark, a skinny 12-incher, and Tom had a couple in that 9 to 10 inch range, so Valley-decent fish.  Not the night it could have been, at least on paper, but I was happy to get out, fish, and socialize for a few hours with a buddy.  I am hoping Sunday is another window to get out, at least for a few hours in the morning, and I'm going somewhere more fun next week, like west or north a few hours.  With the cool week ahead and the recent rains, I will not be alone, but the right stream selection might go a long way, I hope.  Time to do some more homework.

 

June 4, 2021 – Mostly a Numbers Day with Some Encounters – Valley Creek

One nicer fish out of many, many, many smalls.

During the cold rain last weekend, the Silver Fox hit Valley twice.  I was tied up with work and family stuff, and it seemed a bit cold for a magic day to develop, but he did well on that Saturday and did unintentionally shame me into heading out at sunrise today following Thursday night’s rain.  I used to get all excited when the stars were fixing to align at Valley, but I have steered clear a lot in the last year or more.  I have also had more consistent success with larger fish in a few creeks only 20 minutes further away, and a couple of them had assumed the roles of my home waters during the height of the pandemic.  It was much warmer, bordering on too warm but just bordering, like 65 to 66 degrees, when I quit.  That will change this weekend, I am sure, as 4 or 5 days of 90's are forecasted.

The roberdeau eaters.

The flow on the gage was 85 cfs and change when I left the house this morning, so streamer water, especially since the flooding looked bad, which makes the water more turbid and for longer.  It was supposed to stay cloudy skies for a good portion of the day, so that was another positive factor, even if the water stayed dirty, which it did.  I fished a good long time, like a full 7 hour trip, until the clouds burned off, and I covered a lot of ground.  I only saw two dudes all day, so I worked downstream with the streamer and back up to the ‘Ru (well, just some spots) nymphing with a stream-tied mono rig on my 9-foot 6 weight.  Not optimum, and I did miff on some fish, including a couple really nice ones while bobber fishing to see if that would help my game.  The 10 foot 3 weight was in the car, but it was too hot to hightail, and carrying two rods on Valley seems a bit much!  Plus, the nymphing back upstream was just something to pass the time, or so I thought…

Some b reel of same fish, 14 and change.

For the first time in a while, I started out tossing the mighty Roberdeau—one of Sam’s streamers that has landed some big trout.  In fact, I landed my Valley personal best on it a few years ago—a pig close to 20 inches long.  The best today was well over 14 inches, and that took Sam’s streamer.  The star of the morning, at least on the numbers front, was Eric’s micro-sculpin, however.  I caught so many fish and had so many bumps, swipes, rolls, and follows that I had to take it off.  When I tried a bigger olive sculpin, it also rolled some good fish, but it just seemed to piss them off because it rode higher in the water column.  The bugs that did well, like Sam’s and Eric’s, had tungsten beads and rode deeper in the water column.  I tried different colors, like black and a thin mint that covered most of the darker spectrum, but neither got touched.  Both had a thinner profile, which probably didn’t disturb enough water to get the fish zeroed in with the muddy tint.  

Eric's micro-sculpin killed them.  I had to take it off.

By the time the water looked perfect, the sun was out and it was hot.  I decided to nymph riffles and tighter to cover on the way back because the sun was really trying to win the early afternoon battle.  Like I mentioned, I spent a long time out there and covered a lot of creek.  I basically parked at one end of Chesterbrook and fished to the Turnpike, before running into a dude who had probably covered the Park at the same time I was out, and then I rerigged to nymph and fished back up.  After taking a water temp, I actually fished Lil’ Valley for a while just before I quit, and I landed 5 pretty fish there as well.  I told the Silver Fox 30 fish, but I have no clue how many I landed, maybe more than that, so imagine how many fish I moved and saw in 7 some hours on the creek….

Some nymph fish from the walk back in the hot sun.

The only encounter with glory came on the way back, while nymphing.  In a deep hole where the stain was still profound, I floated a walts and a purple frenchie through after picking up some dinkers in the back of the hole.  In a really slow seam that runs over the deepest part of the hole, I got a bad/late hookset on a fish that dug deep immediately.  At noon and fishing just to fish, a bonus round, I did not expect to tangle with a beast now!  Where were you at 9 AM when my streamer game was on point?!  Anyway, after that digging, the big hen took one jump, and I could tell she had the size 18 frenchie on the point because I could see the bigger walts dangling.  That was as close as we got, as she was gone by the time she reentered the water.  Hey, at least I have a confirmed sighting of another pig to sneak back and target.  Not this week, though.  The first heat wave of June looks terrible…

Some deer company on Small Valley.