October 8, 2021 – Gave it the Old College Try – Brodhead Creek

Worth the effort...

Straight out of high school, I had an unsuccessful stint at old ESU, and that began my affair with the Brodhead.  At 52 years old, that means I have been trying not to drown in this mighty river, hardly a creek, sort of the way Penns is called just a creek, for over 30 years.  When I say this is my home away from home waters, perhaps way too often in this blog, this is how deep it goes.  At least 10 trips per year for 30 years, some years upwards of 20 trips.  After a mutually beneficial parting in my early twenties, I have continued to visit the creeks in this region, bringing Ward, my dad, Kenny, and a host of mitches along—Ward and my brother Steve may have even gotten me back into a couple of the bars.  As a first generation college student, I probably didn’t know my worth, and I definitely didn’t know myself, so I found and discarded parts for a few years in these mountains—setting skis and flipping burgers at resorts, drinking at all the locals, not going to classes, and fishing, even hiking into those class A and B creeks before there were guidebooks to show you where to park or PFBC interactive maps complete with topography.

Homecoming.

Only the fishing, which was part of my true identity since I was 8 years old, survived.  At some point during my time in the ‘Burg, I realized my worth, my calling and, perhaps more importantly, what I was NOT going to be.  I think that if a guidance counselor had urged me to eliminate what I didn’t want to be when I grew up, my journey to adulthood would have been shorter.  I dumped a “perfect” girlfriend, moved back to Philly, enrolled in a university and a major that was decidedly more academic, cosmopolitan, and diverse.  I threw myself into music and writing and music writing and eventually a Master’s degree in creative writing (even now working on a second Master’s, this time an MFA, a terminal degree in my chosen field).  Because the memories of the town and the college are complicated, I have no desire to attend homecoming, but every fall the Brodhead hosts several alternatives for me instead.  This is the second trip this fall, and if I am fortunate they may not end until late December when I allow myself to target stockies or post-spawn browns in places where they don’t actually spawn—I messed with some big post-spawn fish in January of this year, even, and will again if weather and flows permit.

Some smalls and a couple bows this time.

The water was higher than when I was here a couple weeks ago, pushing 100 cfs over normal flows for this time of year, but I know that if I can actually get to them, these high water conditions can bring out the beasts.  No beasts today, quite the opposite for most of the day, in fact.  I caught one decent fish last time on a streamer before dark, and a host of smalls and average wild browns.  Today was far tougher.  I landed one dink in the first two hours, I bet.  Sticking with the plan with slight alterations, I eventually caught a little piggy hen today that looked like she had some time before she was ready to look for love.  She was a beauty about 17 inches long that ate a single size 10 hare’s ear jig in a deep pocket behind a boulder in heavy current.   I got tired of losing pairs of flies and working really hard, both wading in heavy current and getting bugs deep under that heavy current, that I landed on a single bug on 5X not 4X with the one modification of the added tungsten bead added for weight—yeah, I guess it was a 6mm of tungsten kind of day.  Whoever thinks of fly fishing as delicate work has never nymphed the Brodhead or the Lehigh or the aforementioned Penns in these good flows.  I should have thrown hair jigs suited for smallmouth on the Susky or Big D.  Reelin Ron might even remind me here that I do still own spinning tackle and a lifetime supply of Rapala CD5s, as well.

A lot of creek pics today, plus that double-bubble hares ear.

I fished the same stretch where I had a fun night in September, but that stretch was a dud today.  It got too dark too quickly last time, so today I was able to fish the entire beat, and I found the upper end far more productive.  Still a lot of work for 8 to 10 inch browns, but the single heavy bug in swirly and deceptively swift pockets and the far seams netted me maybe 8 fish total for the day.  Unlike last month, today I landed two holdover rainbows that moved into better environs.  Neither were the long time holdovers that grow to epic widths here over time.  But all the hard work did result in at least one fish that was the target for the day and a lot of fall foliage and creek porn.  On the ride home after 1 PM, I realized it was getting hot in the Lehigh Valley, close to 80 degrees closer to home.  I had finished my day in a deep gorge where the sun was just starting to warm things up, so my sensors were off, I guess.  I don’t know if I would have given it such the old college try if it was humid and 80 in the mountains.  I often ask myself if it is worth all the effort for one 17-inch wild brown, but when I look at the creek pics and then sleep like a baby from an aerobic day in nature, I usually end up saying yes and, with the clock counting down to the redd making, begin planning the next alternative homecoming.

Some B roll of the best of the day, roughly 17 inches by hand and by net estimates.