April 27, 2024 – I Did a Mitzvah for SleepySheep – Wissahickon Creek

Alex starting to dial it in!

A couple of weeks ago, I responded to an earnest sounding post on the PAFF forum from a new fly fisherman looking for someone to help him figure out the mighty Wissahickon.  He went by the handle SleepySheep, he lived in Philly, and he found the Wissy as much of a refuge from the big city as I once did as a long-time urban dweller myself.  He had found the right man for the job!  Not to get morbid, but some of my ashes may still be scattered on the downlow in this crick someday.  It was the cheapest therapy a young man could hope for.  I don’t love the crowds or witnessing the degradation caused by getting too much love these days, especially from all the swimming dogs illegally off-leash killing the riparian buffer and filling “my holes” with sand, but if I squint a little harder than I used to, I can still imagine I am in an old growth forest in an unspoiled wilderness.  Scranton, Easton, Reedsville, even parts of Centre County cannot match the beauty of the park even if they all have far superior fishing, and one can’t even escape car and truck noise in most of the aforementioned places.  Billy Penn had a vision, perhaps through those same squinting eyes (or sporty spectacles? or eyes half-blind from syphilis?).  I am one of the many who still appreciate that foresight. In fact, I had a random meeting with a co-worker and his fiancé out for a hike today, a couple West Philly folks enjoying this City gem.

The SleepySheep finding success in the pocket water and faster runs.

Anyway, “I met a couple of strange men in the woods,” one of whom goes by SleepySheep, could have ended in many ways, but my instincts were spot on with this one.  Alex (his real name) and his partner Bryant were good dudes who loved the Park.  Bryant hung out and spin fished for a bit, but he left Alex and me to the fly fishing after about an hour.  Alex has loved fishing for some time and is now diving headfirst into fly fishing as the next step in his angling journey.  With a busy career, the Wissy is about as exotic as he can usually get these days, but he has put in the time.  It is much easier to teach someone to be a better fly fisherman when they have fished before and have a basic knowledge of how to read water, tie knots, etc.  He owns a couple kayaks and is a multispecies angler, even a little tenkara.  As far as fly fishing, he has done the practice casting, watched the videos, put in the time, basically.  I don’t envy the guides I know who regularly take out total newbs, but I probably have the right demeanor to take on that challenge someday, maybe as my retirement gig.  I never thought I could be one to be a spectator to fishing, but I did really limit my own fishing today and thoroughly enjoyed Alex figuring stuff out.  He was a quick study and understood the adjustments I suggested, which made my job very easy.  He was also just good company, which is always a bonus.

Some trout were caught.

I guess the true measure of the day was the text he sent me later in the evening.  We parted ways around 1 PM after a particularly successful hour of fishing when the weather warmed up and Alex got in the groove.  He shared that he had landed a couple more trout on his own after he left me.  Honestly, he caught his first of the morning on his own too, so he is going to continue to have success.  I left myself open to future questions and even a future outing.  I still value the idea of figuring it out oneself, and I put a lot of solo time into all my various fishing journeys over the years, but I would be lying if I didn’t share that several dudes shortened my learning curve with their most precious resources, time and knowledge.  Before Sam, there were a handful of my father’s friends like Chris, Kurt, and Barry.  As an educator, I know full well that you learn best by teaching too.  As a way to pay that generosity forward, I have mentored a mitch or two myself over the years (still working on Eric and Sandy Dunkin), but like today the vicarious rewards of being a part of someone else’s success far outweigh the effort expended in giving a little time to the cause.  You probably would not catch me dead chasing stockies on a spring Saturday, otherwise, but even that was not so bad today.  We found elbow room, and I even stuck over half a dozen bows while Alex was addressing the tangles that come with learning the indicator (and split shot; I was reminded how much I hate split shot) nymphing game!

April 26, 2024 – So Glad I Did not Amend My Plans – Lackawanna County

NEPA stud with SEPA former stud?

I left my house at 5:30 AM this chilly morning, hoping that by the time I reached my destination a couple hours later that the air would warm up.  Maybe you heard about the truck fire that closed the Northeast Extension for nearly two hours?  A state trooper and a third car were also involved in the accident.  Well, the accident happened between Quakertown and the Lehigh Vally exits, and guess who had just passed Q-town with no chance of exiting?  Yep, I sat from 6 AM to 7:30 AM with hundreds of other motorists.  Good times.  It was so long that I had to open both passenger-side doors so I could piss, and I turned the engine off at the 45-minute mark despite chilly temps when I saw a chopper arrive and realized I should stream the local news since KYW had nothing to report besides the obvious, having no traffic cams nearby.  Fire crews on the scene…  When I finally did start moving, it was really hard not to get off at the LV exit and fish a limestoner, equally tempting not to head to the Brodhead or Lehigh River, something a bit closer.  But I had taken a day off today to do something a little more special, and in sticking with the original plan despite the unexpected, it actually did end up being just that.

You better work!  More from the photoshoot.

I have already shared three or four photos of the bonus fish that turned a good day into a great day, so great I actually quit and left them biting at 3 PM, my cup runneth-ing over by that point anyway.  Things were slow even with my arrival after 9 AM not 7:30 AM as originally planned, and the bluebird skies and normal-to-seasonally-low flows made fishing the holes a challenge at that hour of the morning.  My gut said, yes, it is still April, but I think these fish are already tucked into the riffles and pocket water trying to feel safer while they gorge on tan caddis nymphs and emergers.  So I fished like it was June not April, and I started putting together quite the morning.  Nothing huge to start, but not the small fish that make up the late spring and early summer pocket water fishing I tend to have here (often with a bonus larger fish or five in the mix too).  As the remaining photos probably show, there were a handful of additional fish between 14 and 15 inches, maybe one spotted up 16 or at least 15+, and a lot in that 12–13-inch range too.  And I was catching them in 12 to 18 inches of water, so they could only go up in the air or run all over the place trying to get loose.

A bunch of mid-teens in shallow pockets and riffles.

It was not bonkers like it can get in June with smaller fish harassing nearly every other cast, but the fish that did eat ate with purpose and fought with plenty of piss and vinegar.  Honestly, minus the weight and fear of breaking such a fat fish off on 5X, especially 5X on a triple-surgeon knotted dropper tag (!), a couple of those 15 inchers fought way harder with leaps and runs, and even a couple downstream runs needed by this guy in order to get a net under them.  Flows were higher than June flows, so I still needed a heavier perdigon with a 4mm bead to get a smaller bug into the strike zone, and a couple of the average fish ate the perdigon too, so it was more effective than simply drop-shotting to get a size 18 bug down in swiftly flowing water.  It got warm, and this kind of fishing can be aerobic, so I did take a 15-minute break at lunchtime to lose a layer, eat some leftover pizza slices, and refill my water supply.

Top left was the first fish of the day, the only dinker!

I caught the biggest fish and at least half a dozen other very decent fish between 12 and 2:30 PM, but by that time, I had to make a choice to keep pushing upstream or call it good.  I would say I had already landed close to 20 fish, and I was confident that I was not likely to top or duplicate the stud I had tangled with this afternoon.  I decided to head back to the ‘Ru and drink an iced coffee I had packed, eat another slice, and make a decision after a sit in the shade.  The leaves are not really popping yet in NEPA, so the shade was at a premium.  In the end, after my morning traffic nightmare, I thought it wise to make my way through the thriving metropolis of Scranton and get on the turnpike before the early Friday commuters hit the road for home or happy hour.  Had I not caught a pig, I may have still been hunting for one until dark, but I had the luxury of quitting early today.  A long day, made longer by things out of my control, but one I will not forget for years to come, I am sure.  This fish was not even a personal best for this creek, but it was in its own category where girth not length was the true measure of piggy-dom.

Awesome fish and awesome day.

April 14 and April 20, 2024 – A Couple of April Trips: One Meh, and One with a Little More Magic – A Pair of Northampton County Limestoners

A good one during the early shift.

I should not expect “normal” April weather anymore, but it is hard to break 50+ years of muscle memory.  The ups and downs of air temperatures are strange, but at least the precipitation is keeping streams plenty "hydrated."  I fished last Sunday for the evening shift at a limestoner that has so many springs that it holds the pulse of rainwater for a long, long time.  It was a bit too high to chase heads, even if I had seen fish rise to the evening caddis dancing over the water—alas, I did not see a single rise.  A weird front was coming too, so I did not do well.  Fish had lockjaw, perhaps from the odd barometric pressure and impending storm.  I ran into another fly fisherman who had the same results, perhaps worse, since I actually stuck a YOY.  On the ride home, on April 14, mind you, I saw a lightning storm in the heavens and even small hale in the deluge of rain that fell for a brief time.  A weird night, but a nice walk in the woods and an experience, for sure.

A couple more decent ones.

After a busy week at work when I couldn’t even sneak out for a morning Wissy trip, I just had to fish on Saturday morning.  It was my birthday, so my phone was blowing up all morning, but it did not distract me from the task at hand.  I arrived at another SEPA limestoner about 7 AM in clouds and drizzle.  This creek gets pounded, so I rarely get anything to move on a bugger, except in the dead of winter, but this morning would have been perfect on a less pressured and fertile creek.  I had a jigged bugger on to start and caught a little brown before rerigging to nymph.  Besides one friendly and respectful angler, I had the place to myself, which was a good sign for a Saturday.  We spoke briefly and worked out a plan.  Unsolicited, he shared a truth about this creek that I have found to be the case myself.  Small bugs, nothing flashy, not even a hot spot or silver bead; otherwise, the fish tend to ignore.  You would swear the place has no fish until you dial it in or get lucky enough to hit them during a mid-hatch feeding frenzy.  In one such hatch a couple years ago, I landed a 22-23 inch wild brown feeding late morning in 8 inches of pocket water.  A rarity, of course, but today I did land a toothy buck in the high teens on a fly Eric and I like to call the little brown nothing—just a size 18 on a 16 competition hook with a spot of hare’s ear and a dull tungsten bead.  You might mistake it for algae, but the fish don’t.  

Clouds to sun, tan to black sedges.

Don’t tell dude, but I caught this fish in the hole where he began fishing today!  I said I was going to fish the next two holes below where we spoke, and he could have the third if he wanted.  I was going to nymph upstream after that.  I saw him work this third plunge, but not the spots I would have worked, so after he left, I had to tuck my nymphs into a sweet spot in the riffle, and sure enough there was a good fish in there.  This buck just dug for bottom, and I kept him upstream of me, so the fight was nothing epic on a small stream, not like the aforementioned pig that had me running through knee high water to keep him in control.  This was still a beautiful fish and even sweeter on a warm Saturday morning on a pressured creek and in a hole that had just been fished not ten minutes earlier by a dude who at least knew the bug secret if nothing else!

A pretty one just before the release.

It got sunny and warm as the morning progressed, but in between taking texts and calls wishing me a happy birthday, I did pick away at a dozen more fish over the next few hours.  Most were average size, but there was another one close to 12 inches in the mix and only one stocked rainbow amongst the catch, so a solid day.  There were tan caddis in the bushes and some over the water, but on my walk out the black caddis were starting to get active.  I planned to quit sooner than I did, in the end choosing to take advantage of the new bug in the mix and so adding an hour to my outing.  I re-fished a couple deep holes on the way back downstream and caught a few more fish to add to the tally.  All were deep avoiding the direct sun but still interested in dark-colored, buggy flies—as long as they were small, of course.

Bonus piggy shot, one bow, dude missed a spot, little brown nothing.

Eric and his wife both celebrate birthdays this month, his wife’s on the 21^st, both the big 4-0, so I pledged to meet up with their friend group and some neighbors at a local brewery around 5 PM for a joint birthday party.  My day had begun at 5 AM, so I needed nap before all that.  I also had to have cake and celebrate with my own wife and son, but they knew that a good fishing morning was all the present I needed, and they knew what attending Eric’s party would mean to him too.  I guess I get birthday part two on Sunday?  I might actually get the boy out for some local trout.  In true fashion for this April, a front is coming and the temperature is going to drop ten degrees, but maybe by late afternoon we can find some eager fish.  If not, maybe I am due for a Monday morning stocky chase before they stock again.

I actually got three good shots and couldn't decide which one to share.

April 12, 2024 – Another Soaker but a Productive Window after a Too-Long Absence from the Game – Valley Creek

 A day-maker on Valley for the first fish of the morning (and a couple weeks out of the game).

Besides getting soaked to my boxers during a brief (boxer brief?), heavy shower, I found a good window on Valley Creek this morning.  I had a bunch of afternoon meetings, but after getting the boy out the door for school, I had about four hours of time to catch a few fish.  The fresh stockies would have to wait, as the flows were up and muddy on the Wissy, but seeing the gage for Valley, which is by the Turnpike and the Park, I knew some further reaches of the stream would be less impacted and improving.  I needed a day, so when I landed the beauty pictured above, I was very grateful to the fish gods.  I have just been busy with work, but mostly home: Easter, yardwork for my mom, the boy’s schedule, some college visits, and so on. 

Went for numbers when the bugs made their case.

I arrived around 7:45 and was fishing by 8 AM.  The flows were up, but the riffles and shallower water had good visibility, so I would guess at least a foot of visibility—for me, probably much more for the fish, who had no problem finding my bugs.  As shared, my first fish was a very solid Valley fish that fought her arse off.  I was fishing upstream with a mono rig and one of Eric’s small, jigged buggers to start.  I also got one later in a really deep hole with one of George Daniel’s sculp snacks.  After the first fish, I had the requisite chases and bumps by the many, many small fish until I had another good fish eat the bugger.  I turned this one with a hookset and saw his head turn back towards me like I had gotten him, but a second later the bugger flew back over my head and into the many greening scrubs and overhanging trees behind me.  That greenery was full of caddis, not surprisingly.  Eventually, about 9 AM, I saw a riser in the riffles above a deep muddy hole I was trying to dredge with a bugger, and I noticed that more caddis and a couple craneflies were aloft.  I said, “Eff it, let’s go for numbers,” at that point.  I got the riser to eat a single duracell before I got poured on for 10 minutes or more.

More trouts & bonus shots.

Instead of switching back to the bugger, I took that rain break to rig up a soft hackle on the dropper and a larva on the bottom.  When the rain stopped, I had a steady two hours of action on the nymphs.  No more size, but enough to bend the rod.  I went for broke a couple other times with the bugger, but I could only catch average fish with that, so the nymphs were far more effective.  It got breezy at times, and the trees were creaking ominously, but the wind dried my clothes a bit and all the noise amounted to nothing, at least until I was back at the ‘Ru prepping for the ride home.  One other interesting note, which is sort of par for the course with caddis: Half of the fish hit on the swing.  I just hold the rod out steady and let the bugs swing under the rod tip once I notice that swing getting noticed.  Potentially deadly with grannoms. Anyhow, I am hoping to get out at least once this weekend, but I have a busy Saturday, and I am going to see a band in Philly with Dolf that evening, so a late night with a potential mild hangover and/or a belly full of Mexican food and likely a pummeling live show.  Eric mentioned Sunday evening on the crick down the street.  So maybe I will get into a few of those fresh stockies if nothing else motivates me to take a longer ride.  Buster wants to fish, yo.