August 29, 2021 – Still Not Making it Easy – Northampton County Limestoner

Definitely made me work for him.

After a cool rainy morning on Saturday, and not as much flooding as expected, I set the alarm for Sunday.  I was just going to get up and check gages, which I have done quite a bit this summer.  Often, the tea leaves tell me to go back to bed, but today the signs were looking positive.  This creek holds a charge longer after the rains, so it was pushing 75 CFS, which is about double normal flows for this time of the year, but the color was good enough to nymph with natural bugs for the most part.  The bump of water is both run-off here and revitalized springs after a soaker, so it is not uncommon for it to run high but also pretty clean.  That said, a few deep holes were cloudy enough that I tossed a black jigged bugger and connected with a few, but for the most part, in the absence of hatches, a caddis larva did the trick.  It took me an hour to remember I had one of Eric’s versions in my box to beta test.  I caught a lot of smalls on a size 16 green caddis, but after switching to Eric’s variation with a pronounced dark collar and a little wire for flash, I actually caught three of the best fish of the morning, including two over 12 inches and the one pictured above that was a solid 14.

Many smalls and YOY.

Despite better flows, my recent experiences have underscored that the better fish are still in summer stealth mode.  It takes a little work to coax the better ones out of the better cover, and the truly big fish have mostly eluded even that extra effort.  I think I would need a weed whacker and a chain saw or even night vision goggles to get at some of the pigs of spring.  Sometimes, all this getting up early, swatting mosquitos and spiderwebs, avoiding stinging nettle when not swamping up waders, and then working really hard for dinks in order to land a decent couple of fish, well, it gets old.  I hit the wall around this time of the summer and start longing for shorter days, cooler mornings, October caddis, and so on.  Today was trip 60 of the year, however, so I didn’t say I wasn’t fishing a lot, just starting to feel the late-summer blahs…  I see from the blog archives that I often do at least a couple bass trips in September, as well, but that’s another case of watching the gages with more tropical storms on the way.

More smalls, even on a bugger, until Eric's lucky caddis.

In order to give myself at least three hours of fishing, I thoroughly worked through a few holes and two distinct stretches of pocket water.  While there are fish in the riffles this time of year, most are in the deep water and/or close to undercuts and cover.  I think it’s a lot of effort for fish to hang in the heavier water when it’s getting close to 70 degrees each afternoon, and with fewer hatches, the terrestrials probably make an easier meal in slower water.  As a nympher, however, I am happy for the lifecycle of caddis, since there are multiple broods in different stages of life all year.  A larva or scud will often do the trick, as will a midge or perdigon, of course, but those small bugs get the prevalent small fish.  I landed the usual array of dinkers and YOY.  I can’t tell how successful last winter’s spawn at this point, as the YOY are not yet annoyingly voracious on any of my go-to cricks.  There have been hungry babes present in all of them, however, so I am hopeful.  Despite the heat, the amount of rain we had this summer bodes well.  And as kids go back to school and people to work, they may get a well-deserved break too.   The boy starts school on Monday, Labor Day next weekend, both sure signs that a much needed change is on the way!

Not a bad showing despite my bad attitude!

August 27, 2021 – A Hot One, So a Short One – Little Lehigh Creek

Spot the heron.

All the good flows kind of went to waste this week because they coincided with SEPA’s sixth heat wave of the summer.  Besides one class and the boy’s high school orientation, I didn’t have a lot to do, so I set the alarm for 4 AM twice this week, but after checking flows and water temps on a few creeks within an hour of home, I rolled over and went back to bed both times.  Last night, I did a little research before settling down for bed and set the alarm again.  It was either going to be the Lil’ Lehigh because it had decent temps for the last few mornings and normal flows, or it was going to be a Wissy trip.  Either way, it was going to be a rather quick one.  It was about as tough, maybe tougher than I thought it might be, especially since the tricos seem to be waning, and I only saw a few caddis.  Fish were caught, however, and wet wading in 64-degree limestone water was more comfortable and offered more relief from the heat than the 80-degree Wissy—though both are probably still flushing out a lot of pollution from the flooding rains (with more on the way).

Real purdy but not real big.

I walked to some pocket water during false dawn, having made better time on the roads than anticipated.  I started out tossing a perdigon with a size 18 caddis pupa on the dropper, and I actually jumped a decent brown before sunrise.  Small bugs, half-hearted hit, and the hookset of one not expecting a hit on his first cast, I guess.  After that, however, I had to work hard for a few YOY and a couple average rainbows.  They were pretty bows with white-tipped fins and great colors, but barely 11 inches, I estimate.  I worked a few high percentage spots really thoroughly, and I kept hoping that some bug life would wake them up, but I had a feeling it was going to be challenging.  There were guys in every hole on the walk back towards the ‘Ru, just prospecting for risers it appeared.  I saw only small fish making splashing rises very early, and only a few all morning, so those others probably did as badly as or possibly worse than me.

A piggy holdover, methinks.

In an effort to find some real estate and at least one last fish, I took a walk out of the FFO section and tried three holes that I have not fished in a few years.  I got sharp bumps in two of them, but they were probably YOY based on where the hits happened.  However, I did jump another decent brown (just another hit that barely registered and a meh hookset) before landing a bonus fish to end the morning.  Even though it was a really pretty fish, and even had the blue eye spot, my gut tells me holdover stocked fish.  That said, it was a healthy 18-incher on August 27, so I was content to mess with him, especially after such terrible fishing in the morning.  I wanted more, but I dropped my thermometer after landing this fish, and the water was climbing close to 67 already, so I called it good.  The heat and those warm water temps did not stop at least three dudes who arrived after 10:30 AM from walking down to give it a go!  No doubt, this place has been abused this summer, hell, this year, but I was happy I got out and bit my tongue.  No use ruining my already mediocre morning by getting into a potential dispute.  I had to chase two gear fishing parties out of the FFO last time I was here, so I try to do my part sometimes.  Today was not that day.

August 20, 2021 – Not the Kind of Rain that Always Makes Things Happen – Northampton County Limestoner

Sometimes just one makes it worthwhile.

Not all rains are created equal.  I thought this morning might be a little more bonkers, but I know these flooding rains at this time of year can also mess things up for a while.  I took two water temp readings of 64 degrees this morning, but I was fishing near known springs when I did this, and the water had also fallen for a day, so it may have gotten warm over here.  For example, Valley Creek was not yet below 70 degrees when I checked on Thursday night.  A lot of rain water that comes all at once and then sits on hot roads, not always the best.  Still, I had to fish the good flows, had to give it a shot.  I even started out with a pair of jigged streamers and, while I landed one, got bumped and move two others, it ended up being a nymphing day—and mostly a slow and low nymphing day, at that.  Eric and I fished here earlier this month, and it was a bow day.  Not a one today, which is fine by me, but it does underscore how every day is different on this particular creek.  We ended with some cicada dry fly fun that morning too.  I did see a massive fish come up once, and I did end the day tossing a cicada—the noise was deafening here by 10 AM—but they were not feeling it today, not even the sunfish.

Let's hear it for the YOY.  Time to be careful with those midges and perdigons, I guess.

It was a drizzly morning and not uncomfortable wet wading.  I learned my lesson after having to de-swamp my Simms earlier in the week.  I was fishing by 6:15 AM or earlier, and landed the first small streamer fish by 6:30 AM, but I could tell by the lack of follows and very few early rises that it might be tough today.  I was wondering if I was fishing falling barometric pressure but settled on my hypothesis above—the water was fine to fish and getting cooler as the rain flushed out, but it must have been pretty warm yesterday.  I actually caught my first fish by targeting him after he showed himself with a rise.  Not many gave themselves away.  There was not much bug life until around 9 AM, when a short, sporadic caddis emergence gave me a good run of three or four fish on a CDC jig.  Before that, and after abandoning the tandem of jigged bugger and bunny leech on the dropper, I had to dig a few smalls out with a walts.  Sometimes one fish, though, you know what I’m saying? 

Some more small to average pretty fish.

After maybe 4 smalls in the first 90 minutes of fishing, I snuck a cast into a perfect little spot that many would not have cast to, one of those spots that are cleverly hidden in plain sight or appear to be too snaggy to risk a bug.  I decided that there had to be a fish in there, and there was a good one, but I got very lucky.  I put a perfect cast in this snaggy spot, the pocket between a large rock and an undercut bank, and I saw a big flash of gold.  I never felt the hit, just saw the flash, but luckily I did not stick him when we did not connect.  The fish took my second cast into the same exact spot, maybe even closer to the undercut.  The fish gods were kind to me in this moment at least.  It was a gorgeous fish that I slipped the net under, about 16 inches and a perfect specimen of a wild brown trout.  It gave me a little hope that changing tactics back to spooky summer fish from post-rain feedbag might help me piece together a decent morning.  But sometimes one fish like this alone can make it worth getting up in the wee hours and taking an hour drive in the dark.

A couple more of the healthy 16-incher.

I landed a couple more fish deep in pocket water, and I dropped at least two more smalls before seeing some caddis activity in a deeper hole.  Normally, this would be dry fly water, or I sometimes float the sighter, but the remaining stain in the creek let me sneak up and take four fish up to 11 inches in this hole.  I caught one more about 10 inches from another pocket in riffles upstream and then watched a long, deep pool for life.  I saw some noses taking midges but at least two splashy rises and one rise from the monster fish I missed earlier in the month.  I tried to float the sighter with unweighted nymphs and even a weenie and only caught sunfish.  I thought about going back for my dry fly rod in the ‘Ru, but stubbornly held onto the idea that I might fool one or two with the long rod.  When it was quitting time, of course, that was when I couldn’t help myself.  Instead of quitting, I took the cicada pattern for a walk downstream to a couple other spots where I know big fish live.  It was getting towards 11 AM, and the sun was trying to break through the haze, so it ended up just being casting reps for a few minutes before I decided it was time to go home and time to allow these fish and the creek to bounce back for a few days—or at least until the next rain warms them up on Sunday and sends them hiding again.

August 17, 2021 – Let’s Hear It for the Bows – Northampton County Limestoner

Let's hear it for those pretty bows.

I caught some browns today, at least two confirmed wild ones, a definite stocker or two (rare for me here) and one that, minus a blue eye spot, had all the right moves.  But without the rainbows, some of them feisty and pristine, it would have been just a decent morning.  With their help, though, I ended up having a lot of fun, mostly nymphing one small caddis larva, or pupa, or even a jigged sculpin for a couple.  I lost count around a dozen, so maybe 15 fish, and I lost my first and last fish of the day, too.  The weather cool down had me all excited, but I gave it a couple days to do its work on the creeks.  I can be certain the water temp was barely 64—I placed a thermometer in the creek after releasing a bigger rainbow that seemed a bit winded.  This bow had an atrophied peduncle and other signs that living has been tough.  She was in a tough spot in pocket water where I expected a wild brown to eat, so maybe she’s working too hard in there or spending too much time fighting the residents for this spot.  I forgot the thermometer, something I have done too many times to count, and continued fishing for another hour, I bet, before I wanted to take another reading.  Yeah, it was 300 yards downstream somewhere.

Doing a heck of a good job too, brownie...

I don’t always find them, so I always buy the cheap Angler’s Image type, just a glass thermometer in a protective metal tube, but I found this one—I guess the old brain still works sometimes.  After that soak, an hour later than when the poor bow swam off slowly, the water was 64 degrees.  Solid conditions for fish.  It was cloudy and drizzly, humid as hell, for humans, though.  Seeing the forecast for the morning lows, I was wearing waders, which needed to be dried hanging upside down with a fan blowing inside.  #schwampass.  When I arrived at 6 AM and suited up, it felt warm enough for just a t-shirt, and it was.  The creek was really low, but the gages will have to adjust from dam removals in progress, maybe, so it was not drought-conditions low.  Because of the clouds and slight limestone tint, I even caught a few in deeper slots well behind the plunge pools and riffles, although most had their noses right up in the whitewater or were sitting in mid-riffle soft spots.  By 9 AM, some size 16 caddis were popping, and by 11 AM when I quit, I even saw trico swarms at the second spot I visited.  No rising or nosing fish here, however.

Early start, smoke on the water, more wild brownie.

I was throwing my 10’6” rod with a mono rig to accommodate a small single bug, as I expected low water and spooky fish.  Adjusting to that slight change, I guess, I lost my first rainbow of the morning after I let it get below me in the riffles.  I was just happy to have a fish eat on an August morning after ten days or more of not fishing due to the fourth heat wave of the summer.  I landed plenty more after that.  It was just a steady pick until I got to a favorite deep hole, where the bows seemed stacked up.  I caught a few on the larva on the way up to this hole, and a couple in the hole, then after seeing adult caddis over the water, a few more on the pupa/emerger imitation—the trusty old CDC pink tag fly.  After realizing I’d left the thermometer downstream and taking a walk to retrieve it, I rigged with the sculpin and worked some of the same spots quickly on the way back upstream.  I moved a couple and landed a couple more hopping the sculpin in productive looking spots in the back of the holes where few had eaten the nymphs the first time through.

Eric's sculpin, caddis larva, some very nice-looking stocker browns.

As I neared the end of the productive line on this stretch, I landed another plump brown that was in great shape.  Probably a holdover, but not from this spring, with white-rimmed fins, a red adipose fin, plenty of orange spots, but just enough stocker features to make me think not wild—plus no eye spot, as I mentioned.  It was humid, but still cloudy and cool, so I decided to check out another spot before going home.  They are pulling down dams on this creek, so I wanted (not) to see one of them in person.  I have mixed feelings: I know the potential advantages if they do it right (they can do it wrong) but I also will miss the deep holding water that dams create in seasons, say, like summer or mid-winter.  I have landed some pigs in these deep holes, and they are a unique challenge to fish effectively.  The stretch below still had some additional silt in places, but it looked okay.  I did not fish immediately below the work on one dam, but I hooked, fought and lost my last fish of the morning just prospecting another stretch a little further downstream.  Another bow, go figure…. I will keep an open mind, but I was happy to see one of my other dams still intact for the time being.  I made a mental note that I may have to make a few final visits before that one too comes down.  Staying hopeful...

Scrawny peduncle and some cuter friends.

August 6, 2021 – Something a Little Special to Mark the End of the Cool Week – SEPA Blueline

Mostly healthy smalls, like Eric's here, but good to be back.

Eric had the rare Friday off to attend to some family business in the afternoon.  Since he was heading to the old homestead, he texted me on Thursday afternoon to see if I thought our little spot might be fishable in the early morning.  I assumed it would be pretty low, but with a good canopy and a week of cooler evening temps, I said I would be willing to try.  If nothing else, we would see how this creek looks in the summer after no rain.  Since he was staying out there after we finished (how early our quitting time remained to be seen) I followed him up in the wee hours.  We arrived long before official sunrise to a crisp and beautiful morning.  The creek was low, but I took a temp after we waded and bushwhacked into our first set of spots.  I was wet wading, and that first step in the creek was a little cold before 6 AM.  The stream thermometer read 64 after a good long soak in rather shallow water, and Eric took a temp before we quit in one of our favorite spots where we think a couple small springs help out, and it was still 64 degrees at 11 AM when we turned back to end the morning.  I was happy to see that the creek does not dry up like a many freestoners.  It was recognizable and ethically cool enough to sneak around for a few hours.

Small stream sneaking with the dry dropper for a change of pace.

One sign that it warms up this time of year, however, was the number of chubs, large and small, and even very large black-nose dace, which are more a sign of clean water than a warmwater fishery.  We only saw one smallmouth and landed no warmwater species beside the ever present chub life.  For some added stealth, we both left the long rods behind and threw dry dropper most of the morning.  I have not thrown my 8’3” 3 weight rod in more than I year, I bet, so that was fun in itself.  I just had a stimulator with one of Eric’s black stonefly (really a perdigon with some rubber legs, two of which I clip off usually) hoping for a decent drowned ant imitation.  Later, I also used a quill perdigon and a frenchie with a blue hot spot, all droppers in size 20.  Eric was tossing a big Adams or Coachman with different perdions and thread-bodied flies underneath.  Many chubs and trout ate the dropper, but a handful blew up on the big dry.  Eric and I both missed decent fish on the dry, but even with the droppers, the takes were tentative.  They were spooky, and rightfully so.  Most were tucked up under ledges and plunges and undercuts, so we actually moved a bunch of fish with jigged buggers before we decided it was time to go.  While the dries would not coax them out of hiding, the presence of all those chubs and, more importantly, their fry were able to get some aggressive fish to shoot out for a swipe even if they didn't commit or just nipped. 

A handful of handfuls each and many, many chubs.

We landed a few on the buggers, and I even lost an 8- or 9-incher at the lip of a deep riffle.  The take was subtle, the hookset marginal, and after one jump, he was gone.  That was about it today: More encounters with decent fish that got away than not, but a good number of wild browns and plenty of action from the minnow family.  We also saw a deer cross the creek behind us, and a few snapping turtles, one of which was massive.  He tried to hide from me, but his tail and most of his ass was still visible, like playing hide and seek with a three year old.  A younger me may have tried to grab that tail and pull him out to show Eric, but with my luck today (and wet wading) I’d have had an ER visit. 

An especially pretty one.

All in all, it was a nice walk in the woods with some action.  Eric fished the creek once or twice in May without me, landing a good 14 inch fish while hunting mushrooms with his mom!  I had not been there since late April this year, so I would have been happy to wet wade and check out the holes, as I did, taking mental notes along the way.  It is a good way to learn a creek, just seeing it in different seasons and low water, much in the way lowtide intel on a stretch of beach assists.  Winter is not great here, but on the right July and August, probably September days, fish can be had.  Maybe the dormant season here is not as long (and in turn the growing season as short) as I think, and we might find a pig somewhere, someday.    

August 4, 2021 – A Little from Column A, a Little from Column B, a Little from Column C – Northampton County Limestoner(s)

What I expected...

I began my morning at sunrise slowly nymphing my way through pocket water on a small limestoner that is pretty low right now.  I was moving slowly but there were few targets to cast to with the creek so low.  I fished here a couple weeks ago and landed some smalls, but I dropped three in a row that were better fish, which made me want to return in spite of the low flows.  I also looked at my own blog from this time last year, and saw that the fish here were eating pretty well early in the mornings last year.  I was nymphing the last time I visited with a size 18 perdigon, maybe even 20, and under some overhanging braches that shade this riffle, so it was not unexpected to lose one, but three?  I had small bugs on again today, a size 18 bomb walts on the anchor and an electric caddis in 20 on the dropper, but this dropper had a mini-barb just to help hold them.  It was a quiet start this morning, with nary a bump for a good 400 yards of pocket water.  When I approached a favorite hole, I really took my time to avoid sending any wakes or mud moving upstream and ruining my chances.  The second cast in the sweet spot of this spot paused, and I set the hook on a beast.  The light was low, but I am pretty sure it was my old friend Karen the white sucker.  At least I hope so.  It certainly looked and acted like a sucker from my vantage point, but trout are a bit lazier in the summer too.  Karen got one run in before it was over.

What I got...

That was my only excitement for an hour, so things weren’t looking good.  I had notched a handful of very small fish by this hour on my last visit.  It was not over yet, however.  The spot I wanted to target, where I lost those three good fish, has a long flat of rather deep water for this creek on the in-water approach.  With the riparian buffer intact, in the water is the only way to approach.  I had to sneak again, but try as I might I could not avoid spooking a few nicer fish in the 12 inch range and one much nicer.  It was early enough and cloudy enough that some fish were out from the night, I figured.  Even on a day with dirtier and higher water, success here often depends on fish moving out of cover and into the riffles to feed actively.  I did not plan to tread through here catching fish on a short line and some nymphs, especially today.  I actually thought I was ready.  After losing Karen, I had tied a cicada to my dropper tag so I could dry dropper this flat just in case.  No takers, just spookers, but thankfully I did not spook all the fish in the hole as I made my way to the head.  I had a little redemption after rerigging to nymph a single bomb walts in the very head of the riffle that begins this run and hole.  A beauty fish with great colors over 14 inches long took the small bug and thankfully allowed me to keep him in the hole and above me and, more importantly, I kept my long rod out of the trees.  Awesome fish for August in low water, so I was content.  Sometimes getting up at 4 AM to fish a few hours and head home can become a grind, but then sometimes the effort is worth it.

...and got!

I picked up another smaller brown here in the same riffle, but I did not expect many.  I figured the first one set the tone in low water.  I had a better chance of trying again on the way back down in case another fish, maybe one I had spooked earlier, decided it was time to move up to the breakfast buffet ahead of a trico spinner fall.  No other caddis or midge activity today, so that was probably my only chance of fish coming out of hiding for a while.  No one wanted to commit to a big old terrestrial, at least not with me pushing a wake through the holes, so I kept the walts on and continued to more pocket water.  I picked up two more small fish, I believe, before I tagged another good fish.  This one was at least 12 inches and equally cute.  I called this fish (to myself, of course).  It seemed too likely that at this hour a good fish was not hiding behind a midstream boulder with water flowing over the top of it and a riffle behind.  The fish had its nose right in the whitewater and took the nymph a second after it landed.  No acrobatics for either nicer fish today, but this one tried to range downstream on a couple runs that I was able to turn towards softer water.  I called another spot that restored my humility to the proper level.  No one home for the rest of the run until a plunge pool at the end of this section.  I had one bump, and then a few minutes later I hooked what I thought was a big trout.  It just kept digging and at first was nearly impossible to lead and move under the heavier water.  What other fish does that sound like?  Smallmouth?  Nope.  Mr. Gill!  This thing was a huge panfish.  My net is not small, and you can see how much of the bottom basket this pig fills.  I caught a few here last time, and they were my sign to call it quits.  It was early though, and I had a dry fly rod with a cicada tied on in the back of the ‘Ru, so I planned the next move.

Bookends with notes and errata?

I hit a little traffic driving to another creek in the region that is on my way home.  This is the same creek Eric and I fished on Sunday.  By the time I arrived, I probably had 30 minutes before the morning bite died off.  I took one solid rainbow on the cicada in pocket water.  Holding the line high over a midstream back eddy, I saw the fish rise up once and decide no.  On the next cast, either he had second thoughts about refusing or a dumber buddy grabbed the big dry.  Seeing the fish eat from close by, aided by the bouncier water between me and the sweet spot, was pretty cool.  I spied the pool where I encountered a big brown on Sunday, and unlike the weekend, there were no splashy rises today.  I blind casted under a few overhanging limbs on the far side of the creek and coaxed one smaller wild brown to take a the tiny beaded electric caddis pupa on the dropper.  I had one other wild brown try to take the cicada as I gave it some motion, but in the end he refused even the dropper.  A sunfish choked the big meal, of course.  After sneaking up on a small pod of small fish dimpling for midges or maybe spent tricos from way upstream, I switched to a small emerger and missed one of the trout before landing another sunfish.  Bookended by panfish, it was time to go.

A couple refusals and rolls, one on the cicada, another on the dropper.  Still fun.

August 1, 2021 – Finally, a Small Taste of the Hot Cicada Bite – Northampton County Limestoner

Hot cicada, hot cicada...

The hype, you know?  I realize the cicada hatch was legit in places like Maryland, but it really hasn’t amounted to much around my usual haunts this summer.  Until today.  Jay gave me half a dozen cicada patterns a couple months ago, I bet, and I have carried them with me since then, even threw them once or twice, but I really never had cause until this morning.  It was good for the fly fishing industry and YouTube and, okay, just fly fishing to infuse a little excitement and high expectations, and for those lucky enough to experience anything resembling a hatch, my brief experience this morning confirms that it must be a blast.  Eric and I only saw one or two bugs get got by a big trout, and I only saw one live cicada in a streamside bush, but the way a handful of fish reacted to the big ugly fly I tossed—basically a souped-up chubby with some orange in it—I think the fish do not pass them up if they get a chance. 

My second of the morning, not bad.

Eric and I were nymphing by 6 AM this morning.  We were lucky enough to have the place to ourselves, perhaps because the weather was threatening to turn by mid-morning.  No offense, and I can say this because I identify as a fly fisherman, but the average fly fisherman is quite the mitch.  That works in my favor, as I don’t think I am a mitch, or at least I am not afraid to get up early or fish in the rain or cold or snow or drive far or you name it.  Whatever the reasons, some legit like low water or conditions not advantageous to a trico hatch this morning, we were able to fish for close to six hours in solitude and comfort.  Fishing was not on fire, and this creek is full of dick, especially in low water, but I probably landed a dozen if I add up the holdover bows and wild browns.  I even lost a pig bow on a jigged bugger and a monster brown on a cicada.  Sadly, my protégé did not have cause to wet a hand or a net this morning, and we tried, man, we tried!

Eric was there, but sadly the fish didn't get the memo?

I fish a few of these creeks like home water, sometimes twenty times a year, so I know every rock, stick, run, season, condition.  That is an advantage that I have been on the other end of several times.  It sucks, but Eric is a good sport and a good fisherman, and it was great to experience this cicada thing with another angler!  He saw me fight the big bow to the net, and then lose it.  He watched the big brown slurp the cicada, roll with a splash, and see me dumbfounded when the battle lasted all of three seconds.  Early on, I had success with a brown daub, Eric’s version of a brown hare’s ear that is killer here.  Fish that are pressured seem to prefer natural, nothing flies, and the smaller the better sometimes.  Besides some tricos, though not many today, the prevalent bug was a size 20 caddis, so small was the way to go.  That said, in deeper riffles, I landed fish on both a 14 caddis larva and a walts worm.  I don’t mess with a lot of rainbows in a given year on this creek, but they filled a void today, so I was happy to see them.  Without them, we are talking 6 fish in 6 hours…. 

On the board early.

My second brown of the day was a good 13-inch fish, and one cicada brown was a good 12, but the average fish was a summer-average fish.  Pretty and 8 to 10 inches long.  The bows were average and skinny for the most part, but two were plumpers and feisty like they’d been around a long while.  After working a favorite hole with no love, even after drifting a bobber slowly through a deep eddy, I did my jigged bugger last ditch effort and stuck a bow that was at least a fat 15 inches, maybe a hair more.  Apparently I chinned or finned him, so the net job failed twice—I guess what I thought was a straight line to the net (twice) was more of an angle while leading from off-center!  Eric was ready for the assist, so I should have let him.  We continued to work through pocket water and found more finicky browns, a few cooperative, along with a couple more willing bows.  At the end of the stretch, we both caught sight of a big bug struggling in the flat pool above us.  It was not long before a big fish took two swipes at it, and it did not take us long to decide to give that fish a shot at another big meal.

Some more pretty (and pretty average) fish.

Based on the surface disturbance, we assumed cicada, although I only saw and heard one on land, as I noted.  We saw another large live bug get eaten later, but both could have been hoppers.  The fish didn’t care, as I messed with five and landed three on the cicada.  I was fishing ugly, just throwing the big bug on my nymphing line, but it worked and after adding a dropper for weight, it worked reasonably well, even.  The first fish that noticed the bug was a brute brown.  I don’t know how long, but the body was wide!  Eric and I watched the eat, he from a high bank as my spotter, and I set the hook well, but I only felt him shake his head twice and he was gone.  Eric’s guess that I may have gotten him on the chin or fin as he rolled sounds better than I pulled a size 8 hook with a barb out of his mouth, but who knows.  My spotter saw me spook a couple pigs, even as I moved as gently as I could through the deep, quiet pool, but we rejoiced when a 10-incher ate the bug and came to the net! 

Cicada eaters!

I kept on working upstream, while Eric did the right thing and switched reels to a WF to do this dry fly thing.  Either the window closed too quickly or his mojo was just off today because even that effort did not net a fish.  Me, I worked through the remaining deep water and targeted risers with some success.  I landed a beauty holdover rainbow that was around 15 inches with white tipped fins and great colors, and then I landed another wild brown.  That fish choked the cicada!  From the pics, it looks like there was one more.  I do remember that I had a couple others miss because they were 8 inches long, I guess, and one other decent refuse after a follow.  Eric caught up to me by the second wild brown, and he led the charge from there.  A few fish continued to rise on caddis or tricos, and we saw another big eat, but we could not get Eric and his proper WF line and tapered leader on a damn trout!  I got one more nymphing on the way back, maybe two, before we decided to call it good.  Rain was just starting, and call me a mitch, but nymphing was not good enough to warrant standing in the rain after a fun morning.