June 30, 2023 – A Rather Decent Late-Summer Morning (Except It’s Only Early Summer, Dig?) – Northampton County Limestoner

Worth getting out of bed finally!

I fished the very early shift today, likely an hour before the trico chasers were finishing their first or second cups of coffee.  I only encountered three guys even when I was quitting around 8:30 AM, and they didn’t want any parts of me besides a quick hello either, which I appreciated.  The swarm was still doing its dance, but there were some fish taking duns and/or emergers, and a heron was resting in a roost over a prime spot for the eventual spinner fall.  I had the wrong tool by that time of the morning, anyway, and I bet my 7X tippet is growing moss if I could even find it in my pack.  That said, I did have a good morning nymphing, landing a total of 11 trouts, I believe.  I even landed a nice 15-inch class wild fish dead-drifting a size 12 jigged bugger before 6:30 AM—which explains the blurry (or smokey) shots of this beautiful fish.  I was fishing a new reel for the first time, so I got to see how the drag performed on day one, which was nice.  My very first fish of the morning was a rainbow, and I landed at least six of them, which has been more common in this stretch for whatever reason.  I even saw a golden that has been in the same hole in a supposedly unstocked stretch of Class A water since March.  He didn’t want what I was throwing, or I would have harvested him for Eric’s smoker (or the local racoons depending on my mood).  I even caught a stocked brown, which is just stupid management in, again, a Class A wild trout stream.  I did not let it ruin my morning, and I was happy for the steady action, even if fish were fussy-hitting like it was August not June.

My share of bows, but a stocked brown is uncalled for in these parts.

There was still a stain from the rains, but the creek was near normal flows for the time being, and it felt cool.  I could not take a water temperature reading because I was wet wading this morning for the first time this year, and I forgot that my stream thermometer was in a pocket in my waders.  I think there is another in my pack somewhere, but I knew I was quitting before 9 AM, so I didn’t worry too much about it. Fish acted fine when released, even or especially the bows—I will admit that I expected to have to piss a lot more than I did, so it could not have been all THAT cold.

More holdovers, some quite lovely, and an average wild fish for the morning.

If this had been a morning during one of those late summer windows, I would have been very happy with my three hours on the water, and I was pleased to land some fish, even a nice one.  But if I look back at this blog, I could easily find many late June trips that were fantastic, so in retrospect I know I had already lowered my expectations for today and this season as a whole.  I am just surprised I got out!  Since at least Monday following the weekend storms, I have packed the ‘Ru three times in case I got inspired in the wee hours, but I either rolled over and enjoyed the extra sleep or saw something on the gages that I did not like.  Being even a little informed about summer trout fishing can be a burden at times.  But I can still vividly recall past moments standing over big wild fish in Julys of yore waiting until they could strongly swim away post release.  Yes, they hit a streamer and fought well, but even water over 65 F for big fish seems to take more of a toll.  It ain’t easy being trout-woke sometimes.  

June 19, 2021 – Schools Out for Summer, a Strike Out for the K.O.B. – Ocean County

Good sports.

I got a bonus day off this Monday thanks to the new national holiday, and it just so happened that the boy finished school AND my sister had a house for the week on LBI.  My brother-in-law Ben wanted to take his one fishing trip per year with us, and I would like to say that I put him on a crazy fluke bite, but I can’t.  I reserved a boat in Beach Haven with easy access to my old stomping grounds, back when I was the “King of the Bay” (more on that below), and I served as a low-rent charter for four hours.  Those four hours happened to fall between 1:30 to 5:30 PM with a falling tide and a North wind working in tandem for some solid 2 to 3 MPH drifts!  I don’t think poor Ben could sense bottom even with three ounces.  The water was dirty too following a couple days of South wind (the best, yeah?) even though it had turned North that morning and then a foggy Northeast around 4 PM—a little too late, yo.  The boy landed the only fish close to a keeper, one of only three short fluke, along with a sandshark.  I hooked a skate—at that drift speed, let’s face it, I snagged a skate—demonstrating the jigging technique for Ben.  He got to reel in a spinning… I want to say fish?  I believe Tami was pregnant with our son some 16 years ago, and we were staying at a place that Ward and I rented with friends for several years on the island.  She woke up and recounted a dream where a little boy—let’s say it was the future boy on the boat today—spotted me and said, “I know you!  You’re the King of the Bay!”  She even made me a craft project that still hangs in the powder room of our house that I got a chuckle about on Tuesday morning.  Man, my then-unborn son should have picked better heroes!  Ask Uncle Ben about my prowess as a fishing guide!  It was still a nice couple of days with family, albeit a little breezy and a lot of work and money, all mine, for a nostalgic boat ride over my old honey holes on Monday.

Perhaps he had my gift for sarcasm even then?

June 11, 2023 – Still Doing Whatever It Takes Part 2, with Much Different Results – Lehigh River

Slightly bigger river this morning.

Well, I blame Ron for reminding me how fickle and complex the Lehigh River can be and how many mediocre days I have had exploring its rich bounty!  As I took my first skunk of 2023, I kept saying to myself, “I should not even be here!  Damn drought!”  It was not for naught, however, because I explored another new section this morning at the crack of dawn, so there was that, even though it probably yielded nothing in terms of new water to fish.  Potential new spots always take effort and the potential for failure.  There were other complications in the plan too.  Not just a skunk, I struck out on a couple fronts.  You see, Saturday was a whitewater release, and I know to avoid those, even though the pulse of water moves quickly from the dam and leaves the flows on the upper reaches back to normal-ish in no time at all.  I am not a sharpie, and I should have asked a couple guys I know who are, but I neglected to consider that the creek even on Sunday, while back to more normal flows, would be dirty.  Duh.  I remarked about trudging through mud last Sunday, over a week after the last whitewater release, but I did not factor that in.  Until I saw the first lone, DIY kayakers and canoeist early, usually grizzled old mitches like myself, I also forgot that Saturday is whitewater but Sunday is lazy river.  Too cold for tubes yet, but I bet I waved to a hundred happy folks in boats from the livery upriver.  To add to my struggles, I usually fish areas of low-density wild browns, or more sparsely float-stocked bows from the local stocking organization, not the usual stocking points, where in retrospect I should have gone today to avoid my beating!  Sadly, I had already committed to a longer hike and wade, so I stayed put and took my licks while trying just about everything.  Heck, I had even carried two rods in the event that risers started showing late morning.  Nope.  Wild fish are dicks, and they were not happy with the floods on Saturday nor with 48 hours of shadows of watercraft and paddling noise, I guess.  I had two fish come off in riffles, but I bet most of them had moved back for cover in the high flows, and I could not reach those deeper runs that I could easily reach last week.  The pulse moves through, but the water does stay up for a couple days, I see, hence the canoes, you know?  As a result, I don’t think this exploration led to any new spots either, as the area was too deep and soft to wade and too overgrown to bushwhack except in winter and early spring.  Live and learn.  I should have soaked a clam with Jeff!

Shiny happy paddlers from White Haven.

June 4, 2023 – Still Just Doing Whatever It Takes, and Good Fortune Continues – The Mighty??? Lehigh River

Fish in the foggy riffles, but I had to get there first!

I explored a new section of the river today, trying to avoid other anglers on a Sunday at the easier access points and staying close enough to that cold outflow from the dam to find optimum water temperatures.  I knew the river would be low, and it really was.  The one picture I took of a mid-river shoal where there are usually riffles was most telling, I believe.  The only upside of this low water is being able to wade without fear.  For the time being, I have also benefitted from many cool nights, with those 90-degree days still pretty infrequent.  I basically used my felt and spikes and wading staff this morning as the poor man’s drift boat, and I had a blast for about three of the five hours I fished—not that the rest of my time was terrible on such a beautiful morning.  During two of those most productive hours I was picking away at a bunch of browns, one up to 17, at least two over 12, and probably ten other small to average boys, not including a few YOY boys, too.  Before leaving the river to hike back to the ‘Ru, I also targeted a riser that ended up being an angry rainbow, and I even caught two more YOY stalking back up the small tributary I had used to access the river.  No adults in the trib this time of year, but I am going to assume the adults use it to spawn in the fall.  The water on the main river remained below 60 F for my stay, and the trib and river below the trib were like 57 to 58 F even in the sun! 

Not too mighty right now, yo!

It took me a good 45 minutes to get my bearings and figure out where to best use my legs to target fish.  With persistent fog and low light, not to mention an unfamiliarity with this stretch of the river, it took me a while to find the fish.  Once I did, however, it was game on.  Before dialing it in, I took a couple deep wades towards what appeared to be fishy spots, only to find a shallow shoal or a boulder sitting in sand.  Eventually, I committed to a bit of a wade, and hike where possible along banks still muddied from last week’s whitewater rafting release from the dam, in order to reach a riffle I could just make out in the fog.  I knew it was there in theory because I had checked out the spot from the comfort of my desk via Google maps fly over.  I knew there was another riffle below within a do-able wade provided I could avoid chest deep holes, and this one actually has an island to fish around, but I could just make out a couple figures down there.  They may have been bank fishermen, but they were just as likely hikers taking a break.  Either way, I chose not to chance making a 500-yard wade for naught and fished my way back up the small creek instead. 

A beauty.

I was fishing by 5:20 AM, but I bet the magic time started around 7 when some caddis started making their way upstream.  I caught a handful of small browns before the magic two hours, but they made me work for them.  At the height of the nymph bite, I picked up some better trout and lost at least three more.  Fishing shallow, fast riffles is a blast, but it is very, very easy for fish to get below you.  I did my best to stumble below them first and even plan my potential landing spots once I was in the groove, but I did have a few come off before and after the peak activity.  Most of the fish, including the biggest one, took a size 16 CDC beaded soft hackle on the dropper tag, so caddis were the preferred bugs at the peak.  By the time I left, around 10:30 AM, there were a few dimples and even a few splashy caddis takes in a long glide—and that is where I got a rainbow to take my nymphs on the swing.  I did get a few fish to eat a purple hotspot frenchie on the anchor fly too.  I think low light, and then fishing the dwindling shade line, accounted for that bug’s popularity.  

A few other adults in with the smalls.

Once the shade was gone for good, the bite shut off pretty quickly.  I had a few options, but they all involved a long wade.  I chose the downstream wade and spotted the other people, so I probably should have headed upstream.  However, I likely made the right call by not exerting all that energy.  I could have waded all the way up to the next set of riffles (or down) only to find the nymph action was over, and I had already landed a dozen trout or more.  What I should have done was carry my dry fly rod and stash it in the woods until 10 AM.  I did wade out, partly to cool off after that primetime exertion, and swing my bugs in front of a small pod of dimplers.  That resulted in the hot bow that would not quit.  He barely cooperated for a photo, which is par for the course with healthy holdover rainbows.  Earlier, I also had a brown that was 13 inches or more that did the same thing, but at least I got a close up of him in the net chomping that little CDC bug before I prematurely dropped him back in the drink.

Bonus shots of the best of the morning + more fish shots.  Only 1 rainbow.

I would like to say that my stalk up the tributary—with my 10’ 6” 4 wt, mind you—was very productive, but it was not.  I did not have the right tool to continue on very far once I reached my parking spot again, but I have heard this creek gets better as it gets deeper into the mountains and away from easy access.  Today, I stuck two fingerlings with that same CDC bug.  One slipped through my net—in the dark woods, I was thinking brookie and wanted to confirm.  Another little fella took a short flight after an over-excited hookset.  He was camped out in a prime little spot, so I was anticipating a far better fish when I saw the flash of a take.  I decided that I was better off refilling my water and getting some food in me than continuing to climb this little crick looking for 5 inchers on my 4 weight, so I called it good around 11 AM and took my time hiking back, just enjoying the breeze and cool temps in the mature woods.  A good morning, especially at a new spot and in these challenging conditions.  I know the temperatures are supposed to continue moderate this week, but I really don’t know how long this small window of low water but decent water temps can last.  I know some creeks are pretty much done for now.  Post-spawn smalljaws or perhaps some more saltwater excursions may be on the menu very, very soon.

Damn you, bow!  The little trib with a big rod.