September 29, 2021 – Good to Be Back, However Briefly – Brodhead Creek

A couple streamer fish before dark.

I worked until noon today, finishing up some grading and reading and writing, but I had nothing I had to do in the evening for once in what seems like a month or more.  I decided after lunch to take the rare evening trip, and I had one place calling to me.  I wanted to do a full day on the mighty Brodhead on Monday, but as I may have mentioned it was still over 200 CFS when I was investigating and making plans on Sunday.  Well, it was showing 178 on Tuesday night, so I had those good flows working on my head all this morning.  Not the best math, to drive 90 minutes to fish 3 hours, but then there was the possibility of moving a pig on a streamer at dusk or, despite the high flows, perhaps even a few risers to caddis.  I went out loaded for pork with my 10’6” 4 weight—now, thanks to Jay, equipped with a bonus fighting butt and weights to perfect the balance.  I rigged with 4X and big bugs, including on the point one of those new teardrop tungsten bomb jigs that I have experimented with in hopes of getting young Eric to embrace them for winter stoneflies and early spring flows.  They are not for every situation, but for the Brodhead in 175 CFS and pocket water, they do a good job of getting down.  I also used my old trick of adding a 3mm bead to a size 8 pheasant tail jig already with a 3mm bead, even with the streamer tonight, because the extra weight was needed to get below the bouncy surface in this stretch of the creek.  Sometime in August I also invested in another pair of Simms wading boots with felt soles for these very conditions, and I broke them in tonight too.  Even without any spikes in them yet, the fresh felt made me feel a bit Spidermanly.

Sexy crick.

I took the scenic route up, even stopping at two Delaware River tributaries that hold some wilds to assess the storm damage.  Once again, and not surprisingly, the smaller of the two was heavily impacted.  I did spy a small wild brown, though.  The stops had already subtracted time from my short fishing window, but they were part of the plan.  The closure of 611 below Easton was not part of that plan, however.  Speaking of damage from Ida!  After a long, scenic detour and an internal debate about fishing this closer area for the second time this week, I continued on to the ‘burg and my home away from home water.  It was a breezy and cool night, and the water looked sexy as hell, so I was not surprised when I landed two and dropped another in about the first five casts.  They were average fish, but all of them were pretty wild browns in pocket water.  Most of the fish came from edges, not from behind the boulders and other obstructions right in the current, which was strong enough to send a guy heels over head.  Regardless, I kept trying those spots looking for “the one,” while I continued to fish the pattern that resulted in average trout at the same time, alternating between the two approaches to be more precise.

About 9 or 10 on the teardrop bomb pt or the caddis pupa dropper.

I went out looking for one pig, I guess, but was pleasantly surprised by a dozen wild browns instead.  Put it this way, I caught as many fish, and all browns, today in three hours as I did in eight hours on Monday, so not a bad outing this evening.  I was thinking that is was almost good for me to have a set endpoint, which is about 7 PM at this time of year.  I put a good three hours in, moving with purpose to hit all the hot spots at least once, and I knew if it wasn’t happening before just before 7 PM it probably wasn’t happening.  While I had enough daylight, I went for broke and put on Sam’s roberdeau streamer with an additional 3mm tungsten bead for good measure.  I tried to fish behind those midstream obstructions in order to find big mama, but like nymphing tonight I had to be content with landing two and moving two other fish from the soft water on the opposite bank.  I had one rise up and swirl on the streamer during the swing, but the ones I landed, including the best of the night that was over 14 inches took the bug hopping in the far seam.

Even a couple smalls hit the streamer and the big bugs.

There were caddis flying upstream an hour before dark, larger bugs and not many of them, and swarms of midges, but while the water was plenty clear it may have been a bit pushy where I was to provide much opportunity for fish to rise off the bottom and contend with the current for a small meal.  I ran out of daylight before I reached the first consistent dry fly flat, so my timing or my choice to throw a streamer eliminated that option tonight.  I walked out in the dark, feeling the chill in the breeze now that the sun was gone, content that I had made a decent choice this evening.  It was not perfect, but it was a good way to reacquaint myself with an old friend and break in a few new toys that were acquired with this very creek in mind.  I may try a couple other spots if I can before the Commish does the fall stocking, or I may just embrace the bigger water next week and see if I can’t find one of those pre-spawn brutes.    

B-reel with a mouth full of the mighty Roberdeau.