March 21, 2022 – A Dozen in One Hand, One in the Other – Northampton County Limestoner

A good plan delayed delivered

I was going to fish this small stretch of a favorite creek on Sunday, but I decided to stay in bed instead, so it was still on my radar this morning.  A couple weeks back, I gave Eric some 5.5mm slotted tungsten beads and some long-shanked heavy-duty size 2 jig hooks, so he has been tying some big-water sized jigged sculpins in his spare time.  A few meant for the Brodhead, Penns, the Lehigh even have wraps of wire underneath!  The plan was to hop a couple of these around some very deep holes and runs for my first quality wild brown of the year.  It’s been a while.  I had a head cold that the boy brought home from school, and Tami was out of sorts too, so three days of not fishing became seven, then ten.  It happens.  On top of the annoying illness, it was the first week of a new teaching session for me, and I had a draft of my thesis due, so even if I was up for it I may not have had the time.  I guess I needed the rest on Sunday morning, especially because I had nearly four hours of meetings with students that evening.  That’s a lot of Zoom.  But I really needed to fish today, so I was grateful for the success.  Despite the sun in the forecast, I did get out early enough for the streamer but also late enough for it to be warm enough to move with said streamer some fish, including the one pictured above that was likely over 17 inches and just healthy and strong and perfect.  There were good flows and plenty of midges, but few olives, so I only nymphed for 30 minutes at the end of the morning, choosing to live or die by that new sculpin.

A couple bigger ones got the whole thing!

I was the only car in the parking area as I was suiting up, not even cyclists or runners, but I thought I saw a dude entering the woods from somewhere.  He was not a morning mirage, as I would run into him an hour later, but it all worked out since his plan seemed to be sitting in one hole that the local TU had stocked with brook trout.  Before I turned a deep bend and confirmed that there was another dude fishing this stretch, I had already landed half a dozen of these stocked brookies on the big jig, just hopping it through a quiet and very deep hole.  He was fishing small bugs under a bobber in water I would have called just a bit too bouncy for a chilly March 21 morning, but what did I know?  I had not fished in 10 days, so maybe spring is in full swing and not just on the calendar.  We chatted a bit, and I asked his plans and if he minded me fishing through.  He really did wish to stay in this one spot it seemed.  Anyway, I caught three of four more brookies in another hole or two above him, so I was getting annoyed.  This is a Class A wild trout stream, but it is a difficult one, so this club must put in some fun fish.  I did not renew my Trout Unlimited membership this year for reasons like this.  If you are for wild fish, then why the Forks (hint, hint) the stocking supplements?  Not the place, but just a brief description of what I feel when I see way too many stockies dumped in a creek that has plenty of wild fish.  This creek is stocked in other sections, so some awesome rainbows survive and thrive, but in my mind it is different to plant stockers in a section of creek managed as a wild fishery.  Okay, enough soapbox for now….

What the Forks?

Eventually I began to see the willing stockies as target practice, beta testing for Eric’s new streamer, and after my ten day hiatus, they at least provided plenty of action.  A few even fought well and exceeded 12 inches in length.  I moved more than I stuck with such a big hook, but I was still hopeful that my plan hatched Saturday night might still work out today.  In fact, I stuck every fish that hit the jig as if it was the target species, and eventually I found the one I was looking for.  The brookies were sitting in the softer water all morning, but I had moved a bigger bow and maybe a smaller brown in slightly faster water.  I had Sam in my head saying something like, the bigger fish are often tucked up in the bouncier stuff.  I have found that to be true, even in the winter, and so it proved true on an average March morning too.  I was tossing the big jig into the whitewater above deep pockets and plunges and letting it slide in there with a push from the heavier current when I came tight to a good fish.   He went right into the air, then took a drag peeling run, and then went up again, nearly 2 feet in the air.  In pocket water, the big net came in handy.  With all the obstructions around me and the good flows, the longer he got to play, the more likely I would lose him.  Thankfully I made the most of my very first opportunity to net him.  

First quality wild fish of 2022, methinks.

I moved a couple and snapped one off of a midge in the last hole on this stretch of crick.  The breeze had picked up, and I was fast approaching the midday lull, so I hiked it back to the ‘Ru a little after 12 noon.  Because it was so nice out, I sat in the lot for a bit and ate something before heading for home early.  I thought about one more spot about 10 minutes away, but at this hour more dudes hunting olives would likely be out, and I would only have 30 minutes to fish before I had to leave to be home for the boy anyway.  It looks like Wednesday on the Susquehanna with Kenny is postponed, but I will be somewhere that day ahead of the rain.  Depending on how much, Thursday morning looks open too.  Eric claims he can fish on Sunday, so more days of March fishing on tap.

The full photoshoot....