May 4, 2022 – Another Day another 20…. – Northampton County Limestoner

Another stud today

I guess I know enough to know that when I have a feeling about something, I can’t give up or get lazy or even content.  It was a damp and chillier start today, but the rain did not really do much to this creek, which is getting below normal for this time of the year, and yet it was cloudy and getting milder all day.  I just had to be patient, I kept telling myself.  Because I spaced out and started heading to another creek this morning on my way to this one, I ended up starting at a different stretch of the creek.  I have caught some wild fish here in the past, but it is heavily stocked and well-utilized by bait guys, so the wild fish usually come in winter or early summer when the pressure is off them.  I knew the storms last year had widened the creek and made the riffles and runs shallower—more rubble rolled into the once deeper runs has not helped either, but it’s better than gravel.  Anyway, I decided to work this area with a jigged bugger because the light was still low and there was a bit of a stain.  I moved some fish with the bigger bug, but once I scaled down to a smaller jig, it was game on with the small to average fresh local stockers.

Thought it was going to be just a stocker bashing, and it mostly was.

To fish a great swirling eddy and deeper tailout, I switched to one of Eric’s bugs with black dubbing around the collar, something very caddis-y, and I must have landed 10 nymphing the same hole in less than 20 minutes.  And that was after landing 10 or more on the bugger on the way up to this spot.  A deep plunge at the end of the line here before frog water was disappointing for two reasons.  I did watch one little wild brown eagerly taking midges, and another was steadily rising in the back of the hole.  I was hoping for something much bigger, so I fished a heavy jigged bugger in the deep, deep hole—like well over 6 feet, I bet—and I miffed on one good soft take that could have been the one.  The other disappointment was that I then sacrificed the same bugger deep in some unreachable wood.  I was carrying only one other of this big bugger, and I wanted to save them for a better stretch, the one I intended to go to before I drove passed it in the morning.  Instead of rigging up again, I decided to make a move to another spot closer to the one I originally planned when I left the house.  Twenty or more stockies in an hour was about all this spot was giving up today.  A few were holdovers with good fins and some girth and muscle from good living, but most were spring stockers all of ten inches long.  I was time for me to take a short drive....

Some big does, Eric's bug, that bomb teardrop hares ear.

When I started nymphing the second spot of the morning, and the fishing for stocked rainbows was perhaps even sillier, I was coming to terms with the idea that this would just be a numbers day beating up on the eager stocked fish.  With few exceptions to start, they were all cookie cutter fish here too.  I started fishing little out of the way pockets that spoke brown trout to me, but I actually landed my first wild fish of the day deep in bouncy water—I made a note of that, of course.  It was hardly a pattern, but it did land one other wild brown today, the pig that opens this post, my second 20+ inch fish in as many trips.  This first wild brown was 14 inches, and I knew by the way he was digging and not coming up that it was the desired target.  I would have taken a 10 incher at this point, close to 2.5 hours into my day, but this was a bonus.  Again, I thought this was going to be it, as the bows kept eating.  I had another deep, braided run in this stretch that gave up at least 6 fish in a row.  I did not get defeated but instead tried to enjoy the ridiculous action.  If nothing else, I would no doubt have the touch when another wild brown decided to eat.

Finally after 30 bows!

One my favorite spots on this second beat started out slow.  Either it had been fished out of the stockers or it had not gotten bucketed like a couple of the spots downstream.  I remembered that first wild fish was taking shelter in deep, bouncy water, so I fished the head of this hole with a bomb hare’s ear, one of those teardrop tungsten beads that really carries weight and rides hook up really well.  A few casts in with this bug—and a size 16 duracell on the dropper because I saw some black caddis crawling on the rocks nearby—and I stuck a good fish.  This one stayed down like a brown, at least at first.  When I eventually saw the flash of white belly, I knew I was mistaken, but it was hard to be disappointed.  This was one of those bows that I like to catch in this creek, that I welcome at times, especially when the wild fish are being snobs like today.  She was probably 16 inches with translucent, white-tipped fins and put on quite a show, eventually making a few leaps before getting in the big net.

Ain't made at ya, bow.

Okay, that was fun, and if I could find a couple more holdovers this size, I would really be okay with the day of bows.  A few casts later, however, all that self-talk was gone.  I knew the minute I set the hook that this next fish was the one I had been patiently waiting for all morning and now into the afternoon.  He just stayed under the deep whitewater and shook his head—this always feels like ages, but it’s probably 10 seconds at most!  I eventually changed the angle on him with some side pressure, and he started making his own moves right back.  He did all the tricks: run to the shallows on the other side of the creek, dig for the big obstructions he and I both know are in this hole, come back at me and towards a root ball, try to run down to the next hole, and so on.  When I thought I had him beat, he then decided jumping and tail-walking was the next move.  I kept my cool and unclipped my net.  The water was cold, so I figured I could play him out a bit instead of rushing with a 3 weight rod and 5X tippet.  I caught a break when I was able to intercept him making a second pass on my side of the creek, so I guess the big net came in handy today.  Had I missed, we may have been back to square one, or off to the races, hopping after him down the creek.

Yeah, the face again.  Pig.

I actually took a break after releasing this one.  It was over 20 inches according to the mark on my rod and the opening of my net, so the second over 20 in as many trips—granted it had been 7 or 8 days since my last outing.  I drank my water and texted pics to some of the usual suspects.  I even thought about calling it a day, but those bugs that had taken all day to wake up convinced me to keep going.  I had one more spot, and maybe if I had energy, water, and made a food stop, even one more stop after that in mind—you know, the one I intended to visit first thing this morning.  I did stop by the ‘Ru and lose a layer of clothing, eat something, and refill my water bottle before heading to what would be my last stop of this tour.  The boy and I had struck out at this last stretch in high water, but I brought him here last month because I have caught a few big fish here over the years.  It ended up being much shallower than in the past and much cleaner than I expected (or the sun finally peeking out had something to do with it).  I landed a few more bows, including one decent one that looked like one of those rare stocked males, much wider build and growing a kype.

A buck bow to end.

So today ended up being silly, but not just for the reasons I had come to terms with earlier in the day.  Nothing wrong with 35 or more stockers, I guess, but it seemed like a day the browns would cooperate.  I may have mentioned that the wild fish here are sometimes dicks?  I kept fishing like it was going to happen, however, and it eventually did, so there’s that.  I also saw some deer, had a face to face run-in with a fox out on patrol, and had the place myself for nearly the entire time.  I saw one bait guy as I was leaving, and one spinner guy around noon.  This is one upside of the gray days, although those conditions hardly ignite the caddis hatches. I have been busy with work and even had some basil cell removed from my neck (a Deep Thoughts installment may be in the works) and next week looks busy too, but I am hoping it is not another week before I can get out again.  I mentioned to young Kenny that we should get out before we do a Susquehanna trip (re)scheduled later this month.  I should probably do work tomorrow, so maybe Friday if the forecasted rain is not ridiculous?

Another close up.