January 30, 2023 – A Friend of a Friend, A Retirement Party, and Finally Some Wild Trout – A Couple Northampton County Cricks

A real looker this one.

I guess my car goes where it wants to go.  I did not intend to begin my morning where I did, but before I realized that was where I was heading, it was nearly too late.  I just went with it.  It’s not like I don’t love this first creek, but the last time I was here, I had a heck of a time finding elbow room, even on a winter weekday.  It was all holdover fish, too.  I could not interest a wild fish, but I was limited by where I could fish by the strong showing of other eager weekday anglers.  At least I was able to have first crack at my preferred spot this morning before I started running into all the people again.  Fishing was terrible despite decent conditions, but this first stop was apparently a social visit.  I am working on changing my attitude about all the coconspirators, so maybe the autopilot was for a reason?  In the end, I even took a drive and fished the originally intended creek, alone and with some level of success not found at the first unintended spot.  Maybe I was just giving the creek I left home for a chance to wake up because I had some olives and midges that made for a good 90 minutes or more of mid-winter action, even one rather nice, and certainly beautiful, fish for the effort.  She was likely 14 or more, and uniquely colored up and plump.

Small bugs at stop two.  Too many mitches at stop one for pics, I guess.

As I was closing the hatch of the ‘Ru to start my day, two SUVs with single anglers inside were rolling into the lot.  My gut said, guide meeting his sport, so I headed right for one of my honey holes.  I will spare you my feelings about guiding such a crick as this, as the toothpaste has been out of the tube for some time now.  Been mad Jersey up in this piece adding to the pressure on the fishes for years now too.  Anyway, I guess I know a little something about honey holes on this creek (I have landed several big fish and lost a couple even bigger on this body of water) because guide and sport ended up heading my way.  They didn’t see me and come my way anyhow, as I was on a bend in the river and had bushwhacked to get to the spot.  When I got within eyesight of them, they stopped what they were doing, and I said to myself, “I know that guy.”  The guide probably did the same, as he was one of Sam’s good buddies and someone I have gotten to know over the years, as well.  I chatted unnamed guide and sport up for a while, and then worked out a plan to give us all space.  I had already given my best shot at glory with a bugger in the two holes here, anyway, so I headed upstream to a couple other spots.  One my way, I ran into the self-appointed and thusly knighted keeper of this stretch of the crick.  I am glad he keeps an eye on things and engages with everyone, honestly, and I told him that once again today.  Like me, he seems obsessed with all the Jersey plates and the internet heroes naming cricks, so he makes me feel more normal.

Four average wild fish.  Another shot of the nicer one.

He told me one of his buddies was heading where I was heading, but I eventually spotted his buddy camped out in a spot some distance from where I wanted to go.  My second honey hole was dead too.  Perhaps the flows were just a bit too much to mine effectively today.  If fish were up off the bottom for bugs or chasing (which they were not in 40 degree water temps) then it was going to be tough.  Of course, I tried, knowing that there were fish down there, but eventually I decided before it got too late to take a ride to the other creek, which is smaller, shallower, and probably warmer.  Well, I got into my third conversation of the day with the buddy of the creek keeper.  These retired guys want to talk more than fish, but I know I will be one someday in the not-too-distant future if I am lucky, so I engage.  He had as much luck as me, and when I ran into guide and sport, they had had it tough, as well.  Not a fishy day despite it being so nice out.  This creek is like this in the winter.  Tough.  Oh yeah, three other old-timers, two of these guys really, objectively old, were in the lot suiting up, and they wanted to talk!  I eventually separated myself from the tailgate, but it took some effort.  By the accents, they were surely certified Jersey Fresh, and lovely gentlemen at that, so I repeat that I must have come this way for a reason this morning.

Grey end after a sunny start.

Who was doing whom a mitzvah, I am not sure, but the good vibes worked, and the reluctantly social me was rewarded when I finally arrived at the intended creek.  I was prepared to head up to some skinnier spots, deeper cut spots, in case there were trucks everywhere, but I had my preferred stretch to myself from about 1:30 to 3:30 PM.  Blue winged olives and midges were active, and I was rewarded with five wild trouts to end my full day.  I “fished” from 9:30 to 3:30 today, but the actual time spent fishing was far short of that with all the jabbering with friends and strangers.  As an introvert, had someone tried to engage me at this second stop, I may have had nothing left and just nodded and waved.  The fish don’t speak English as far as I know, even Jersey English, so I was better speaking with the size 18 olive nymph dropper in some pocket water.  A couple pics, especially of the nice fish pushing 15 inches, and we parted ways with maybe a one-sided, “Thanks, fishy, I needed that."  No reply needed.

January 18 and 28, 2023 – A Couple More January Trips to Small Creeks for Wild and Even Native Trouts – SEPA

Some pretty wild fish and native fish in January.

It’s been a while, and I have been busy, but I did sneak out a couple more times this month, and I hope to get out Monday too.  Today, Tom and I went to his little brookie spot, a spot that is slowly becoming a wild brown spot.  That seems to be the story with several creeks within a couple hours of home.  I like browns, but I do like to mess with a native (or ten) a few times a year if I am lucky.  That is becoming harder as creeks warm and browns keep migrating upstream and procreating at better rates.  It was not a terrible day by any means: warmish, sun and clouds, good flows.  It was winter fishing, so my expectations are always guarded at best, but the water temperature was 40 degrees, and we saw some midges and even early black stones on the water, so there was a chance it could have been an even better day.  In fact, Tom had an eager brown pop his indicator at least twice in a deep, slow hole, where I eventually landed the best brown of the day on a small jigged bugger.  It was a healthy 9- or 10-inch fish.  Most of the brookies we landed were very small, like last year’s babes, but I did land a couple toddlers too.  For a while, we saw some bugs on the water, and we witnessed at least one more rise, but the action never turned on like we had hoped.  Tom had plans for the early evening, so we had to quit around 1:30 PM.  That said, I don’t think we missed much in leaving when we did, maybe a couple more browns at the first spot that produced earlier in the morning.  It was good to get out with a mitch and catch a few fish, and some days that is enough.

Nearly skunked earlier in the month

Earlier in the month, I narrowly avoided a skunk on one of my favorite Northampton County limestoners.  I got surprised by another angler at my winter honey hole here, after most of my other spots came up empty.  I was retying next to a loud plunge, so I didn’t even hear dude walk up and ask me if I caught anything, and he startled the hell out of me.  He then proceeded to fish the same frigging hole!  He appeared to be a noob, perhaps accustomed to the close quarters tolerated on stocked creeks, so I held my tongue and just put a lot of distance between us.  After a long walk downstream, I was rewarded by a nice fish eating a jigged bugger in another favorite hole where I came up empty earlier.  Well, sort of rewarded, as he got off the bugger before a net job and a photo.  It was a shame because he was a good 14-inch fish too.  Of course the only fish that hit in two hours, when I was lulled to sleep by no hits, was a solid fish.  It was a fun fight with a pretty, colored up male fish, but had I not landed a YOY before I quit, this day in January technically would have been my first skunk of the young year.  Better days to come, I am sure.  I like February fishing, especially when some bugs start waking up with the longer days.  January can be tough, even a warm January like this one, but another short warm up already has me thinking about Sunday or Monday of this final week of January.

The Silver Fox in action and some more small winter brookies.

January 11, 2023 – A Handful of Holdover Trout, a Gaggle of Geese, and Way too Many Fishermen for a Winter Wednesday – Northampton County Limestoner

Hopefully, Eric is okay with me tinkering with his bugger. Pretty bows on a gray day.

It was cold overnight because of the clear skies, so despite the forecast of milder, mid-40’s air temperatures, it took a while to warm up today.  I can’t say it ever got warm or mild, however.  A little breeze and mostly cloudy skies made it feel colder as the day progressed.  Not what I expected, which was a theme for today.  I took my time leaving the house, so it was 40 degrees in the Lehigh Valley when I began suiting up about 10:15 AM.  I could not fish where I expected to fish today.  With the visibility through barren woods, I could see a bundled-up dude was chunking a spinner at the first spot I wanted to park, and another fly dude was suiting up in the lot.  I took a ride downstream to another access, and there were two dudes with fly rods crossing the bridge on foot and getting ready to drop into another prime spot.  That was four so far on a Wednesday in the middle of winter and not on a freak 60-degree day either.  Valley 2.0?  I settled on what one might call in music parlance a “deeper cut” spot, one that is also literally a bit deep for winter fishing.  Fish are there, but the wading is more challenging and takes commitment.  The water also takes more time to warm up.  I fished two very deep holes, first with midges and then with the jigged bugger that I fished for most of the remainder of the day, before another fly dude and I surprised each other.  He had perhaps wisely skirted the deep wading and bushwhacked into a spot, only to see this bundled-up mitch working some pocket water.  That was now five dudes on an average winter day.  I need to start night fishing, maybe?

No wild boys today.

Before I encountered dude five, who was friendly and cool enough to know not to jump in ahead of me, I had notched two fish on Eric’s jigged bugger.  One was a holdover brown that had me fooled until he was in the net because he fought so well.  He jumped three times in sub-40-degree water, which is something none of the holdover bows that I later landed did.  I expected to land at least a small wild brown or two, even in this deeper cut spot, but I only messed with five spring survivors.  I expected that geese would have vacated for the winter, but there were 50 of them being all loud and splashy.  They don’t really affect the fish in my experience, but they do cut into the peace and quiet, the gentle lull of pocket water and winter breezes.  I stuck with the bugger until about 3 PM, when I finally saw some midges hatching and even one riser at the tailout of a deep run.  I was lazy by then and rigged a midge off the hook of a pheasant tail on the same 4X I had been using to toss the small bugger, so I am not surprised that the fishes did not jump all over my presentation!  In the end, this was not the day I expected it to be, but that is fishing, especially in winter.  The presence of all the other fishermen, and even the geese, are signs of the times, I guess.  There was even a (corporate sponsored, mind you) story in a national fly fishing publication about the advantages of winter fishing, which used to be a niche pursuit for only those most sick with it.  I will eventually get used to seeing larger numbers of fisherman this time of year, larger numbers of fishermen, period, but it takes a while to retrain my expectations. 

January 6, 2023 – Sometimes I Get a Sixth Sense about these Things – Northampton County Limestoner

A weird afternoon of extremes.  I see (future) dead fishy.

I made my first trip of 2023 to one of a handful of old reliable creeks within an hour of home.  I had a feeling with rain ending, falling temperatures, and fronty conditions that this was not going to be a banner afternoon.  I still wanted to get out and fish, and I figured no one else would be fishing here on a not so nice day.  Flows were up and stained, so I tossed a jigged streamer in some deeper water for about an hour with only one small guy eating and jumping off on the first leap.  I did not take a water temperature, but my spidey senses were telling me that nothing was moving for meat today, at least on this creek in this weather.  I rigged up with a couple bigger, heavier bugs (for here, which is a small creek pushing 50-60 CFS on a high day, I bet) and I eventually landed one decent wild brown in the soft seam of some pocket water.

A survivor that won't survive the winter!

The rest of this beat was, well, beat.  To add insult to injury, or at least novelty to the proceedings, the only other fish in the net was a holdover golden that ate a walts worm in a hole that I was really hoping would hold at least one more wild brown.  This is a Class A and Trophy Trout creek, but they stock upstream, so I sometimes get a random rainbow.  This is the first golden.  This fish was a wanderer and survivor, at least.  You know, I managed to get through all of 2022 without catching one of these, I believe, even from the Wissy or Penny.  I had a bad feeling about the day, and I was right, but I am hoping this is not an omen for the entire new year!  I thought I saw her in the hole, even with the stained water, and was like, “What are you doing here, girl?”  I definitely saw her move for my bugs.  With nothing hatching but a couple midges when the sun popped out for all of 30 minutes, I should not have been surprised that she was hungry.  I wish the wild boys had gotten the message, too.  I fished through drizzle, wind, sun, ominous clouds, and the first full moon was rising as I pulled into my driveway.  I get a sixth sense about these bad trips, but at least I caught something, did not fall in, and made it home in one piece.

January 4, 2023 – On the Board for 2023 on a Warm Winter Day – Berks County

On the board.

I am surprised it took this long to get out this year.  Some years, it takes weeks because it is so cold.  This year, I probably could have caught some fish on New Years Day if I had the time and the desire.  Actually, the Silver Fox wanted to hit his brookie spot on Sunday, but I had plans with the family, not to mention a couple fishing days in a row to end 2022.  With rain and unsettled weather around, including some fog, I was unsure about how some bigger creeks would fish this week.  Honestly, I just wanted to get out without too much planning and gage checking and all that goes into a longer ride to a bigger creek in the winter.  I took an educated gamble that this little Berks County creek on the natural reproduction list would be stained but fishable.  It is not Class A, but the wild browns do well, especially after all the stockers have been taken or gone belly up.  It took an hour to find them with any consistency, but once I did, it was clear that I made a good choice.  I landed nothing big today, but at least three hours of fun, small stream fishing for beautiful wild browns is certainly not a bad way to ring in the new season.

Mostly small wild trouts and small stained crick.

I started out fishing with the same little jigged bugger that caught so well with Eric on my final trip of 2022.  It was #chublife for a while, and then I broke the bugger off on a hero hook set on what looked to be a bigger trout based on what I saw by turning him.  It may not have been the knot, as the tippet broke somewhere in the middle, and I don’t recall adding any length to the leader the last time I was out.  Either way, it was better that the tippet or knot failed on this fish rather than the piggie from the trip with Eric.  I have not caught more than a couple fish over 12 inches on this little creek, so I may have broken off one of the few remaining holdovers—at least that is what I told myself while rerigging to nymph the upcoming run of pocket water.

Something to put a bend in the 3 wt.

Productive pockets.

Because the deeper water was really stained, I rigged with a hotspot frenchie and a darker soft hackle on the dropper.  The first consistent run of browns came in pocket water, not deep holes, so I don’t think the dropper netted a thing.  I probably kept it on for extra weight for a while, and then once I broke off (in a tree is the most likely spot on this sometimes tight creek) I went with a single heavier caddis larva.  With some chubs interspersed, and even a handful of YOY, I bet I eventually landed a dozen wild browns.  The biggest couple were probably 10 inches, but they put a nice bend in the 3 weight.  The stained remained, and rain began again as I was getting ready to quit, so I did try to bounce a clone of that bugger on the walk back, still hoping to find a standout fish or two.  Again, the trouts were not quite ready just to sit in deep holes and ride out the winter, which is slow to start or has come in fits and starts, so I only stuck uber-chubs with the bugger on the way back.  I only targeted three or four deep holes, and with the stain, I could not tell if they were silted up or had changed since my last visit.  Surprising, but I am not complaining because I would rather catch fish actively feeding in pocket water, anyway.  It was a good—albeit oddly swampy in the old waders for winter fishing—first trip of the year.  Many more to come, I hope!

Pretty and healthy trouts.