April 16, 2023 – Took a Mitch to the Old Crick on Quite the Morning – Wissahickon Creek

Some stockies in the skinny water.

I started a new job this week, so my fishing will be curtailed or weekend-ed or evening-ed for a while.  I only have to go into the City two days a week, so eventually I will stop being good and figure out some mornings or evenings that work, and I will eventually learn to fish like regular dudes using holidays and vacation days.  For now, I am being good.  The upside of working in Philly again, besides some quality lunch options and not having to drive to the office, is that fun, random stuff happens.  On Wednesday, ahead of the playoffs, I ran into the Sixers hype team and Franklin the dog (or is it Hip Hop the rabbit?) on a double-decker bus giving out hats and shirts.  I scored a couple hats, gave one to my new boss for her son, and kept one to give to young Eric.   He stopped down with his youngest daughter on Saturday to get the swag, and we hatched a plan to fish for a few hours.  I assumed correctly that the crick down the street was probably 70 degrees already, so I pitched the Wissy deeper in the City.  It crossed my mind that this weekend might be the local tournament, and a quick Facebook check confirmed.  A bunch of dudes in Roxborough have organized the thing for a few years now, and they put some monsters in there—I randomly caught two bows pushing 8 to 10 pounds last year a week or so after the tournament weekend. 

One for the stringer?

I did not realize it was two days long, so we ran into 20 jamokes and assorted jadrools already on the crick at 6:30 AM.  There would be more before we quit at 9:30 AM, along with a bunch of nice teens and father/son teams, which is what it’s all about.  They were mostly camped out in the holes with easy access, so we walked down to a run of pocket water hoping for the best.  When the water warms, I often clean up in this type of water as the fish move up for more oxygen.  I did not know if they would be doing that in April, but they were, and for good reason…  I took a water temperature at 9 AM, and it was 66 degrees on April 16!  Terrible.  A combination of no leaf cover, several days over 80 degrees, and little to no rain is a recipe for a quick trout season on a SEPA freestoner.  Thankfully, Eric and I nymphed up a bunch of fish, and then worked through the same water and got a few more on a jigged bugger, including the resident smalljaws and sunfish.  No 10-pound trouts or even goldens—sorry, I mean palominos.  I heard one of the organizers, who were driving Forbidden Drive on an ATV all morning, somehow connecting the replacement of “pali” in the lexicon with the term golden as a “trans” issue?  Oh, Roxborough….  I lived there for like 13 years, so I know what I am getting, of course.  It’s sort of like Delco, only hillier…  

A lot of wild fish active in the warm water.

It was good to get out with a mitch, and I even contributed a few to a stringer of five for his smoker.  With the water this warm, there were dead fish everywhere from mishandling and maybe just exhaustion from day one of the tournament, so better in Eric and his dad’s belly than belly up in the crick.  One nice fella we spoke to on the walk out postulated that the fish came from water in the hatchery that was 53 degrees, and then got dumped in hot soup—that would be a shock, I agree, and besides dying the fish also got lockjaw by 9 AM.  I think it may rain on Monday and get very cool on Tuesday.  We need a prolonged cool down and a few days of rain, but a couple days’ reprieve will help prolong the season so I can get the boy out one more time, perhaps.  I am thinking Monday after school might be the day, especially with the potential for him to catch a monster stocker.  I honestly wonder if the Commish will even stock down the street if they note the water temps?  A strange winter, and an equally strange spring.  Maybe it’s a perfect year to ease into a new job after all? 

Can't believe I got a pic with no one in the frame?  Must have been at 6:25 AM.