May 13, 2023 – Well, I Am the (Weekend) Warrior – Northampton County

Bang, bang....

I am at least two for two with finding solitude and fish on the weekends, maybe three for three, and I didn’t have to resort to the secret spot with Eric (yet).  This weekend warrior thing is just a new puzzle to figure out each week.  Today was easy: a perfect cloudy morning with average flows nearly everywhere and bugs as expected, mostly caddis.  Had today been a Wednesday, I definitely would have had FOMO, even while I ate Jose Garces tacos or something fancy for lunch in Center City.  Still paranoid about crowds, I admit, I was up at 3 AM, on the road by 4, and fishing before sunrise.  I did get a jolt of anxiety when I passed a dude in a monster truck way too close to civilization and with his fly rods mounted to his windshield like Allentown was Denver or something, but he was going the other way, at least.  I imagine he was probably all swole and smoking a big old stogie at 5:30 AM.

On the board early.

Despite the paranoia and suburban lift kit scare, besides one dog walker, I had this particular stretch of crick to myself for five whole hours this morning.  The reason I chose it is because I had a great late morning at this little spot last year, and it was around this time of year—a bit earlier and in higher flows, actually, but close enough—so I figured this was worth a shot for the early shift.  Plan B was to fish the same creek much closer to its confluence with the river, which would have been a quality over quantity proposition, although last year it was all primo, club stocked rainbows over 14 inches long and very little sign of big wild browns.  I did not have to consider Plan B, however, since Plan A worked out perfectly.  I love small stream sneaking, especially in pocket water with fish tight to cover and requiring precise casts and fast reflexes.  Even the hits are sharper in this type of water.  It is just a good time all around.

Love the small stream sneaking.

Caddis in two sizes were active very early, so I landed about ten fish in the first hour on my dropper tag—a #16 CDC soft hackle.  A couple took the perdigon I had on the anchor spot too, including a largemouth bass—one of two I landed today, which is pretty odd in a creek that supports a healthy wild trout population and has a steep gradient, so fast current.  I think they get in from a nearby pond flooding in high water or get washed over a dam.  I used to find random panfish in other cold, spring-influenced creeks that have small impoundments nearby.  I also hooked and lost what I pray was a sucker, but it acted like a big old brown too.  No worries, as I landed a great small stream fish, the one that opens and closes this post, a few minutes later.  This creek is stocked, so while I started out catching many wild browns, as the morning wore on, I probably landed close to as many rainbows.  They were fun because they were in bouncy rainbow water too.  Healthy leapers all of them, bow and brown.  Without exaggeration, I can say I landed 30+ fish in 5 hours, so a good morning, you know?

First mostly browns and then the bows joined in earnest.

Once I fished a known honey of a stretch twice, I switched to just a single caddis pupa and worked my way through a bunch of skinny pocket water.  Because the sun was low and it was cloudy, I was able to catch a half a dozen more smaller wild browns, most of them very close to roots and other cover.  The last time I was here, a couple bait guys were above me fishing a few prime plunge pools, but today I had the place to myself, and those plunges did not disappoint.  I started out catching a few small stream solid wild fish in the softer seams and pockets, and then just as many bows right in the white water.  Young Pete, who actually fishes in the City and at night, will bust my chops about this one when he reads it, but this creek above these plunge pools becomes pretty urban, maybe more urban than it already is.  I fish a couple creeks that I consider industrial, and this area was once that, but right now the only word that comes to mind is urban.  We are not talking mountains, not even grassy suburbia, pergolas and backyard patios and fancy barbecue grills.  Nope.

Montana it's not.

Retaining walls made of old barrels and cement blocks, fencing and railroad ties holding banks in place, at least three BMX bicycles, a shopping cart or two, but still the cold water and steep gradient and a mix of both wild and holdover stockies.  One hole was loaded.  It was looking like the lair of the biggest wild fish in the crick, but if he or she was there today, they were beat out by half a dozen bows and five smaller wild fish too.  I even put on a jigged bugger to see if I could move a pig even if it didn’t commit.  No dice.  There was an equally sexy plunge another 50 feet upstream, and I tossed the bugger there too.  Nope.  This time, however, I landed that aforementioned second largemouth bass of the morning.  Smallies here, especially small ones just getting by on bugs, I get.  But nothing about this water says a LMB could thrive here.  They looked cool too, almost like spotted bass, but I think the mouth says largemouth even if the colors and spots say spottie.  

Where'd you two come from?

It was humid all morning, but it was getting hot and swampy by now, probably after 10 AM, and I was out of drinking water too.  I decided to end my uphill walk here and double back to the ‘Ru to get a snack and refill my water.  It was hot out of the water, but I wanted to walk back downstream and see if I could spot any risers at the first hole I fished before sunrise.  I was not all that hopeful, but I figured I could throw a dry dropper and catch a couple more even if no fish were active on the surface.  I also have never explored much below this honey hole because it looks like it gets wider, which usually means shallower.  At 10:30 AM in bright conditions and lower water, I was lucky that I landed a nicer bow on the dropper and had two little browns come up and hit the caddis.  Neither riser stayed on.  My suspicions about the nearby downstream waters were confirmed.  In fact, it was probably worse than I thought because it was so wide that the creek braids after storms and remains braided for a while.  I did take a shot at one of a pair of little risers in a tailout, but after one cast the 3 AM wake up call probably was catching up because I stumbled and my own wake and/or noise put two fish down for longer than my late morning patience could tolerate.  Did I really need two more fish, anyway?  

Bonus crick pic for RR in less "urban" stretch.  One more of best fish of the day.