May 26, 2024 – Despite Summer Air Temps, Fish Were not Ready to Get Up as Early as Me – Northampton County Limestoner

Two out of three ain't bad.

Limestoner time, I guess.  I want to tell myself that we are going to get another couple of cool weeks in June, but I am not so sure.  Marginal creeks might be done for the season without a drastic cool down or a week of rain.  The bugs and fish are still on the late May clock for now, at least.  I proceeded this morning as if it were late July, and I only had a few hours to fish.  I was up at 4:30 AM, on the road before 5:30 AM, and fishing by 6:15 AM.  The trout did not get the memo, however.  If this were any other creek, maybe, I could have gotten a fish or two to move to streamer, maybe even a big terrestrial, early.  I tried, but these fish get pounded.  I had some follows and one nipper, but no takers on the bugger.  I had to remind myself about small, non-descript bugs and encourage myself to be patient until the 9 AM hour, which is when I finally I started catching fish.  I would say I caught one fish before 9 AM, and then I went on to land over 15 more between 9 AM and 11 AM, including a few good ones—well, I got 2 out of the 3 good ones in the net, so a couple good ones.  I quit at 11 because it felt hot.  It felt like I needed to stop trout fishing at 80 degrees.  Not that this stopped a couple of Jersey jadrools from suiting up as I was leaving.

It took a while for them to get going, but once they did, it was game on.

My thermometer was in my waders because today was the first day of 2024 that I was wet wading, so I will reserve judgement on said Jersey jadrools.  I was perhaps being overly trout woke, but I can say that the legs don’t lie.  And by legs I mean scrot’?  At no point today did I get close to shrinkage.  Fish were in prime fighting shape early, and they all went back quickly and lively, even the one that drug my point fly into a stick as I was bending to net him, in the process taking the dropper tag with him and gaining his freedom while retaining his anonymity—no hero shots of this one today.  Flows and color were perfect, so I was still hopeful even with the quiet start.  I also kept moving and was able to find the sweet spot between two easy access points, perhaps at just the right time of the morning.  Bugs were out in force late morning.  Well, bugs were out in variety more than force.  There were midges, olives, caddis two ways, even some egg-laying sulfurs in the mix.

Besides the heat, it was a perfect May morning on a pretty crick.

The twist with so many bugs about is figuring out what they want to eat, especially when nothing has risen yet.  On some level that was part of my issue last week when I fished with Josh.  At creek two, we saw a half a dozen different bugs on the water.  He solved that mystery in the stained water with a streamer and a big old Pats while I stuck to the script to my own detriment.  Today, my gut was right and simple caddis patterns got them going, including the famous little brown nothing.  Once the fish were going, however, I did try the sulfur nymph route and was rewarded with a few fish.  The fish here seem to love the small dark caddis emergers, and the three best fish all took a size 16 CDC blowtorch on the dropper tag.  That dropper tag take, with the point fly dragging two feet below, cost me the third nice fish, but having caught two before that and the fact that I got to do everything but net and photograph this third one, I was okay.  I even quit on that last one as the high note that it was.

Just gorgeous, these two in particular.

This was one of those days during a more typical May when fishing might have been good all day.  Everything but water temperatures were lining up, unfortunately.  Despite the stain, flows were pretty normal.  There were so many bugs to choose from.  No one was out on a pressured crick besides the two dudes showing up when I was leaving.  I thought about refilling my water, digging my thermometer out of my waders, and reassessing the situation after a snack.  Part of me wanted to re-fish some prime spots that were dead early in the morning.  Instead, I just enjoyed the walk out, looking up from the creek to see what was happening on a warm spring day.  Wet to the ass, evaporation kept the swamp to a minimum, and the trees are in full coverage, so it felt good to stroll and dry off a bit before the relatively short ride home.  Besides a pair of mergansers playing grabass, I saw several small families of geese, one sadly small one with just one gosling I called Ryan.  I also stalked a big tall and lean buck already sprouting new antler growth.  He kept sneaking down to the creek, very aware but defiant of me, in order to eat some especially succulent new growth.  I eventually gave him a snort, and instead of trying to kick my ass, he moseyed off.  Perhaps there were early berries of some kind.  There was the smell of flowers and skunk cabbage in the air, maybe mulberries mixed in.  A very good morning despite the slow start.  I will take it.

The nature show, more crick pics, the empty netter....

May 24, 2024 – Young Kenny Still Has the Juice – Susquehanna River

That's over 20 inches, Young Kenny.

I have not really written about this before, but my boy Kenny has been sick, and it’s not something he is going to beat.  There have been upsides to this journey too.  We have had some real talks about the changes that have taken place in him.  He’s always had depth and, besides the shared fishing obsession, it is a reason why we are friends.  But he has had access to himself in a way that has probably changed his life and how he sees the world.  Maybe things really do happen for a reason?  As a contemporary and also a dad, it certainly affects my perspective on life when I hang with my boy(s), and it definitely makes me appreciate these days together, and all the days in the past, on a different level.  We laughed our asses off again today and still had no filter even around a new captain, Glenn, who is working for Chris Gorsuch of Reel River Adventures.  Glenn looked like he was enjoying himself, but I imagine he had some stories for Chris tonight!  We actually hung with Chris at the ramp at the take-out today, so we were able to catch up and plant the seeds for a trip this summer with my son up on the North Branch.  Today, Kenny and I made Glenn look good, just as he made us look good.  A bunch of nice fish got in the net, and a couple even laid down for a quick measure on the deck.   Kenny snuck in a 20+ too, just to demonstrate that the kid still has it.

We might be able to get Glenn to dance next time?  Or did he?

I met Kenny at his house around 5:30 AM, and we probably launched before 8 AM.  The river was high but nothing crazy, but there was a lot of mud still flushing out from the banks and tributaries.  Funny thing is that Chris had his party fishing soft plastics all day, and they also had a good day, but Kenny and I ended up tossing a black or dark green chatterbait nearly 90% of the day.  That is actually a lot less work than finesse fishing, so I was down for it.  It is also a lot fewer snags and rerigging for our captain, which I am sure he appreciated.  When Kenny, my dad, and I used to fish Canada for 5-7 days in a row, I often took a day or two just to throw a shallow running crankbait as a way to take it easier and switch up from concentrating on that telltale *tic* of a pickup all day long.  We tried a squarebill or two today, even a spinnerbait, but the fish wanted that dark profile and the vibration.  I know it was the vibration drawing many strikes because we probably had a number of bumps and territorial nudges until we started pausing for them to catch up for a second attack.

I got a few good ones too.

Kenny started out very slow.  I bet I had 20 fish to his one in the first hour or more.  He was getting in his own head despite my constant teasing—go figure 😉—followed by assurances that I know he can fish (I am not a total douche).  He took a break, had a sandwich and was feeling better.  Glenn gets the assist, however.  He was curious about all the soft rock that tends to get played when Kenny and I fish with Chris.  It was a new window into his business partner or ammunition, maybe both.  Well, once Glen put on the yacht rock playlist, it was game on for Young Kenny.  He had two hours or more of going toe to toe with me, and even after he had decided to take a break or call it for the day, he made a precise cast to a spot Glenn called out and landed the best of the day.  When I landed a 19 not ten minutes after that in another spot Glenn called, we were content to end our afternoon a bit early.  Before that, plenty of solid smallmouth were landed, many over 15, a few 17s and 18s mixed in, even a big old channel cat that ate a chatterbait in the cushion in front of an island. 

A lot of bass, yo.

It was a hot day for May 24, and visibility was terrible, but by recognizing seams and structure, paired with Glenn’s knowledge of what lies beneath even without seeing it, we found fish up tight to rock piles, riffs, and grass beds at a steady pace.  Chris had another party out today, as I mentioned, but he also paired us with Glenn to get a trusted assessment of his newer guide.  I would give Glenn high marks, and I would fish with him again for sure.  His boat was sexy too, a roomy jet sled that performed well.  Glenn was good company too, and definitely got a show from the two jamokes on the decks.  He mentioned that he usually does not get to take out experienced bass fishermen, and he even marveled that we could throw his personal baitcaster.  Fly fishing has not robbed my ability to chunk and a wind, though I did have a minor backlash that he justifiably had to bust my balls about 😊.  A good day with a good friend who still can fish well despite all the challenges.

May 18, 2024 – A Good Day of Terrible Fishing (for Me not Josh) – Mifflin County

Josh hooked up in a nice riffle.

I met Josh through PAFF and have been communicating with him about some of his local creeks for a while.  A couple of these creeks, I have been learning more on my own over the last few years, branching out beyond the usual suspects a short drive further west in crowded Centre County.  He is also generous enough to host a bunch of old fly fishermen at his mom’s property on the banks of the Juniata River each year, so I got to meet him in person early last fall.  He helped my learning curve by giving me two spots that weekend where I had a solid afternoon of nymph fishing (also in the rain).  We finally made good on another meet-up this morning, and I got a tour of some of his favorite stretches on the bigger creek and another off the radar limestoner.  Thank goodness he was on his home waters and fished well today, despite the fish being pretty dickish for most of the day.  Without Josh’s performance, and his own pats rubberleg variation, you would be seeing a lot of dink rainbow and brown pics for this post.  I started out fishing poorly and really never got any better as the day progressed.  More snags and lost bugs than I care to count, hanging casts in trees, wrapping tippet around my own ankles at one point, nearly taking a dip while rushing up to photograph one of Josh’s trout just so we had content for this blog.  I even targeted a big rising fish, got him to eat, and then snapped the fish off with the hookset.  Add bad knots to the list of my foibles today.  It was good to connect again with Josh, and I had fun trading stories all day, but I probably need a do-over on the fishing.  It happens.  I know I have had rough starts with Sam after the long ride to State College on little sleep, but I usually recover.  Not today.  I struggled for the duration today.

Rainbows and dink browns for me at spot one.  A few fat fish early for Josh.

Josh and I met up at a spot close to the first stretch of river he wanted to fish.  I would guess we were suited up and fishing by 10 AM.  I was not complaining about leaving the house at 6:30 AM, not 3:30 AM, my usual when I head this way this time of year.  Rain fell most of the ride, but it stopped a couple hours into the fishing at the first spot, so meeting later in the morning kept us much dryer, for sure.  The potential extra sleep did not help my performance, unfortunately.  Fishing started out good, with Josh landing a couple plump wild browns.  I was thinking we were going to have a solid day, even though the flows were up and the river pretty stained.  I was the stocked rainbow warrior for a while before I finally stuck a few small browns on the walk back up to the parking lot.  Fishing shut off pretty quickly, so we made a move to another spot on the same creek and soon pieced together a possible reason why fishing had shut off.  The gage on the creek had been dropping for a day, but on a hunch, Josh pulled it up on his phone and showed me the graph rising again.  The second spot was nearly unwadable at this point, nearly.  We gave it a shot for a few minutes, and then decided to fish another creek that was smaller and in a different watershed altogether.

Josh continuing to school me at my own game at creek two.  Even a better beard today!

On a tip, I had explored this creek once before, but I did not really fish it, just walked it making notes for a future visit.  Growing up in the area and knowing folks, Josh had a legal parking spot and a legal ingress/egress for this otherwise pretty private stretch.  This creek is sort of like fight club, you don’t talk about it.  I know the Centre County dudes had a few of these before the dreaded Keystone Fly Fishing book, but I also know they still have a couple left.  As you know, I like to keep lesser-known spots quiet, even (or especially) if they are not my own.  It was a good-looking creek in places, but the most exciting part was that the color and the flows looked much more promising.  I was even hopeful that I was going to be able to shake off my bad mojo today—I still don’t know what it was, allergies, work stress, just tiredness?  Josh took time to rig up to fish a bugger on a fly line and even took the time to rerig back to a mono rig to continue nymphing.  He caught fish on both, a few decent ones too.  I don’t think I even capitalized on him being out of the game to rerig on occasion.

Some nicer fish ate the streamer and the rubberlegs.

I caught some small wild browns, but nothing close to the size that Josh got to eat his pats rubberleg.  The pics don’t do justice or perhaps the dreary light all day had an effect, but they were pretty and very healthy wild browns.  For whatever reason, I resisted putting on my own big stonefly imitations (I was even carrying a few rubberlegs) and even after finding success with a big size 10 and even 8 jigged pheasant tail a few times, I kept going back to smaller confidence flies.  Heck, I should have thrown a bobber AND a rubberlegs.  That may have been a nice accommodation to help me get back into form for a while in the afternoon, a confidence boost, perhaps.  I did none of that and just kept grinding away.  Snapping off a big trout did get under my skin a bit, so when Josh suggested we hike out around 5:30 PM, I knew I was heading home not looking for one more spot to fish!  I may need a do-over in June.

On the other hand, my average browns today on a pretty crick.

Deep Thoughts #10 - Sorry, Gonna be a Buzzkill Here for a Moment….

Schmidtties?

Let me preface what follows by saying that I am not a teetotaler by any means, and to be honest I have one failed college attempt in my late teens and a DUI in my early 30s to offer as my bona fides.  Perhaps my age and experience and history make me more attuned to this, and I am sorry if I ruin anyone’s reading pleasure or make them get too self-reflective (or reflexive) about their own habits.

Alcoholism runs in the far-from-glamorous, seasonally-depressing, and anxiety-ridden guiding business for sure (and on the Irish side of my family—three of my four sides are Irish, too).  I have avoided that issue myself (arguably, says the aforementioned DUI expunged from my record after ARD classes).  

All this preamble is to ask, is anyone else getting a bit suspicious and/or tired of the alcohol “product placement” in every bit of fly fishing media??

I am the father of a 16-year-old, and I was probably a 16-year-old boy who ravenously read fishing magazines around the time when beer and alcohol ads were getting banned for good reasons from publications in the US.  Now The Drake, Fly Fisherman, and others have to get creative and slip beer ads into the book and website review sections or something.   I have seen fishing-themed beer reviews in several places: “Best Beers After a Long Day of Fishing” or some shit like that…

And there is mention of alcohol in over half of the articles, sometimes more than half!  In a recent Drake there was a story that was more about sipping beer than catching largemouth, as if the beer was necessary even though it made dude miss fish because he was paying more attention to the beer than the fishing.  A cheap laugh, basically, one my 16-year-old self might have found funny.  Not five pages later, a story about fishing-themed watering holes….

Pun, see?

Don’t even get me started on the beer companies who put fish on the label and then give some pittance of profits to the environment.  That is the equivalent of check-out line donations and receipt roundups: “Target gave 1 million dollars of its customers’ money to a charity because we care…”  Just donate from your record profits if you care so much.  Rep my Member, Rep my Water!  But I digress….

Lastly, is it a chicken or the egg thing?  Did every writer turn to this lazy-ass trope about having a drink before, after, and/or during a fishing experience to make the experience complete?   Or is there backdoor influence by the industry that has seeped into our brains and now makes its way onto the page whenever a writer needs a quick way to ingratiate himself to a reader—hmmm…we all drink, so I need to work in a drinking reference here!

Even kind of looks like edible weed packaging, you know?

Legalized cannabis is next, of course, and I am working tirelessly in the lab to formulate some edibles that look just like thingamabobbers.  Sorry to be a buzzkill, but something is up, perhaps innocent, perhaps a bit more insidious, but either way the youth and this old man are watching and learning.  For what it's worth I am going to send a version of this letter to The Drake and maybe post on PAFF after I run it by Dave Kile.

Cheers, everyone!

May 11, 2024 – The Attack of the Hungry Rainbows – Northampton County

A lot of rainbows...

Man, I caught a mess of trouts today.  A very conservative estimate would be 35, but I fished close to 7 hours, I bet, so that would only be five fish per hour.  The creek was definitely way more productive than that at times, so let’s say a conservative 40 fish.  The only problem was that this is a Class A wild brown trout creek, but the bows accounted for sixty percent of that 40 fish count.  I could not keep them off the bugs.  I caught a bow double after 1 PM, even after I got so happy skewing towards wild browns for a few hours after 11 AM when caddis and a couple sulfurs started to appear.  It was a chilly, foggy, and rather bugless start, so I should have been content to catch so many eager bows, but I only had one brown in the first two hours of fishing.  And when I thought I finally hooked a lazy pig in a prime hole around 9 AM, it ended up being a lazy sucker instead!   I have not fished this creek since February, and I don’t think I have fished this section so close to stocking season before, but it was eye-opening to witness just how many stocked fish remained in the creek. 

Alas, it was not a big lazy brown.  On the mouth, though, so fair play!

The creek was a bit low for this time of year, but it had a nice stain from the light but sustained rain on Friday.  Besides one dude arriving early as well, I saw no one else fishing.  This is definitely a small creek and one with a high gradient and lots of pocket water, so not a great place to fish with bait, spinners, or plugs (although I saw all three just out of reach in overhanging trees).   As the weather warms and the fish push even deeper into the riffles, it is definitely a great place for a single tungsten nymph, maybe a dry dropper rig on a long rod to hold the line off the water.  Many of the bows they stocked were small too, so not really table fare even if you did manage to catch a couple with gear.  

A particularly juicy looking spot that did not disaapoint.

I decided around 10 AM to take a walk away and try to escape the attack of the hungry rainbows.  It worked out eventually, but I still caught 6 rainbows in maybe 8 casts before finally sticking a decent wild brown in a hole that I last explored this winter.  I did find one rainbow in this hole in February, but I also found wild browns and expected to find a lot more than I did on a warm spring day like today.  I stuck with it, and found a few lovely and leaping wild fish here, but not the one I was hoping to find when I first found this hole last year...

Finally a good run of browns in cool little spots like log jams

As I mentioned above, from around 11 to 1 the bugs did shake off the chill and get active.  That, of course, brought the wild fish to life, and I had a blast catching fish in little pockets and even log jams.  For those, I had to swing bugs underneath and from upstream.  I still caught rainbows in these spots, mind you, but at least I was catching browns at a steady clip too.  Fishing was so good for those two hours that I even fished through some water where I only caught bows early in the morning and now found a couple browns, at least.  Because the gear fisherman—one of only two I saw all day on a lovely Saturday—was heading upstream, I let a good chunk of prime water go first thing this morning.  No sign of this guy or any other fishermen around 1 PM, so I decided to work through this water.  The hot bug was a gasolina perdigon, even though I tried to tempt them with many other combinations, even a bigger sulfur nymph that only got rainbow love.  For a while, a chartreuse hot spot frenchie also had the magic, and in the much-welcomed shaded spots, a frenchie with a purple hot spot.  I had to take a soft hackle dropper off because bows were loving it, and catching rainbows on the dropper tag is not fun: a sure recipe for tangles.

What's more tragic?  The deer's demise or stocking over Class A wild population?

All good things must end, so while I did catch a few more wild browns between 1 and 2 PM, certainly more than during the early shift, the bows made a resurgence.  It was the double, one on the perdigon and one on a pink beaded pheasant tail, that was the sign to call it a day.  My first double of the year, but I was now motivated to find one more wild brown to end on.  I did find an exceptionally pretty one and then one a bit bigger, so I turned back towards the ‘Ru without fishing a couple more prime spots upstream.  I knew if I got into the bows again, I would be kicking myself for not leaving when I had the chance!  A glutton for punishment, I did stop at a reliable plunge on the walk back, but I caught a rainbow and then snagged up.  Time to go, yo!  I am only half-serious about hating on all the rainbows, but it was a bit disappointing and definitely ridiculous there for a while.  In retrospect, the rainbows did make that 7 to 9 AM window more than just casting practice, and for that I am thankful.  I just hope most of them are gone before my next visit this late spring or early summer 😜

A sure sign to call it a day, but I had to end on a pretty wild fish.

May 4, 2024 – Like Two Fat, Acrobatic Bookends to a Solid Early May Trip – Brodhead Creek

First fish of the morning, an angry hen of the brown variety.

My first wild brown of the morning was quite the fighter, a Brodhead bully for sure.  One of my last fish of the morning was also a big old hen, this one of the long-time holdover rainbow variety.  She was an angry one, beautiful and angry!  She took several jumps and long runs, even dragging a bobber along.  Every time she caught a glimpse of me with the net in hand, we had to start from scratch as she ripped line out of the reel.  In between these two fish, I landed a bunch of wild and stocked trouts, a couple decent ones, but many smalls.  Still, with no rain for a while now, and the creek not even pushing 90 CFS when normal is closer to 175 this time of year, I would call it a good outing.  Some tan caddis were around in the vegetation, but not much on the water or enough to bring many fish up.   I saw few if any mayflies on May 4^th, so something was up, or the activities were just delayed today (I quit at noon, satisfied with my day).  A couple cool days in a row after a heatwave may have had something to do with the lack of bug activity early today.  But that water temperature in the high 50s made the fish happy this morning, and they were in prime sparring condition.  Like last Friday, I really had to resort to June tactics, tightlining shallow riffles and pockets and using the low water to my advantage, wading out to hot spots and fish that I would not otherwise be able to target effectively in normal spring flows.  This big rainbow was in a spot I could not reach if flows were higher, a deep pocket behind huge boulders typically in 6 feet of moving water.

A beautiful, albeit cloudy morning.  Perfect.

I was committed to taking advantage of these low flows today, so I was up at 3:30 and on the road by 4:30 AM.  Even after a couple stops on the way, I was suited up and fishing by 6:30 AM.  I had the 10’6” 4 weight nymphing rod out for the first time in many months, and with a fresh leader and sighter, it still felt like an old friend.  My 3-weight would have made the many smalls today a bit more fun, but I was glad I had the extra muscle to handle a couple really good fish in fast water.  No need for a wading staff in 89 CFS, but the boots with felt and spikes came along just in case.  I was disappointed to see some NY plates in the lot, and I was hoping it was a hiker or other outdoor enthusiast, but the decals on the back of the Jeep gave the game away.  I did see dude down there in the creek, but he was fishing in posted water, so I hope he was a guest of the landowner, who has chosen to close down most of this former wonderland to all but scofflaws or an exclusive group of out-of-state friends.  It is sad, but the river is a long one (also a navigable one if anyone is an attorney out there and wants to take this case on, but that is a post for another time).  There are many more spots to explore and revisit.  I don’t believe I violated any laws today, but I don’t like that the legal fishing area keeps shrinking each year.  It was arguably worse in the 80s and 90s with out-of-state, mostly absentee, landowners posting nearly all the creek that was not in Stroud Township possession, so I will play the long game once again?

More browns, stocked and wild.

After landing the first good fish, there was a lull in the action for nearly an hour, so I seriously thought about taking a ride to fish deeper in the gorge—really taking advantage of the low flows, you know?  But after I put together a run of fish in a hole downstream and then caught more fish in the areas I first fished now that it was warming up, I decided to stay put.  To end the morning, I did take a longer walk up to a favorite hole that thoroughly disappointed last month on a far more challenging day—cold, windy, higher water.  I ran into another friendly dude fishing where I wanted to fish, or making his way there, at any rate, but he was happy to let me go upstream of him and target some deep plunges and pocket water.  I am glad I did.  The wild browns continued to be small, but I caught a skinny 14-inch bow on my first cast into a deep eddy, and I picked away at bows and browns through this stretch before and after I landed the hot rainbow I mentioned above.  For that fish, I had to put on a bobber to reach the other side of the creek and reach over some frigging monoliths in the water.  I have caught a few monster browns in this area, but I had several years where I tangled with at least one tank rainbow per year here too.  In other words, I could not be sure what type of freight train I had hooked until she took her first of three high jumps.

Bows, crick pics, and some very loud bachelors.

Every time this fish saw me, it took another run, and one of those runs even incorporated a little tail walking.  She was showing off.  Finally in the net, it was a colored-up rainbow that has been around for quite a while.  They are certainly not Comish fish, so I think these rainbows either come up from stocked water or escape from a tributary with private stocking, or they are primo stockers from the private clubs upstream (thanks Paul K 😉).  Whatever the case, I am never mad at them.  The big wild brown from earlier in the morning fought really well and made two jumps, but a bow that thinks she’s wild is in a different category.  Even in the net, they don’t ever stop bucking.  I discarded two blurry photos before finding one where the fish stopped moving long enough for a shot that did her justice.  Both fish were pushing 18 inches, I bet, a couple of piggy bookends to a solid morning on the water—and I beat the rain.

She'd get even angrier if you let her know she wasn't wild, I bet.

May 3, 2024 – Protect the Wiss, Y’all – The Mighty Wissahickon Creek

Perhaps the sign was a sign.

I love the sentiment of the sign, especially sitting right next to the more subdued call to action from the Friends of the Wissahickon.  It was a good reminder that my membership ends this month and it’s time to renew.  The park is definitely loved, and loved too much, but I still value this urban oasis for quick getaways like this morning.  I also appreciate the stewards of the Park who have filled the gap left by the ever dwindling funding for the Fairmount Parks Commission.  Before having to start a new job last year, I had taken steps to become an official crew supervisor/volunteer wrangler.  I was selected and had to decline because starting a new job with the added responsibilities that came with this role was too much.  The two offers had coincided so closely together that I just could not do it.  I am still motivated to get more involved beyond the odd volunteer day or park cleanup, however.  Perhaps the sign was a sign?

Even a bass and a rock bass or three.

I had a light morning with work, so I decided to fish one of the sections that I proposed to the SleepySheep last weekend.  We ended up fishing another favorite section of mine and finding plenty of fish, but this particular section can also be quite productive.  It’s been a while since we had a good rain, so the crick is getting lower and warmer (65 degrees in early May before 9 AM).  A couple of 90-degree days in a row, and more 80s next week won’t help, but today’s cooler temperatures, tonight’s low, and some rain this weekend will give the place a charge.  Not that I suffered from poor fishing!  I just half-expected bonkers fishing.  Instead, I found steady action on small bugs fished deep and slow.  I saw at least two very large fish, like in the mid-twenties, so I know some derby fish remain in this area, but I did not get them to eat this morning.  I had one golden move towards the bugs, but no frankenfish content for today's post, so you know how that encounter ended.

Protect the Wiss Y'all!

Only one small bass cooperated, but I caught several pretty sunfish along with the usual rock bass if the bugs landed in water just a tad too soft.  I wanted to find trout in the riffles, and I did when I looked for them, but I did not find as many eaters as I had expected for such warm water.  Perhaps, it was the front that came through?  This morning was significantly cooler and breezier than it has been.  There were caddis and midges bringing some fish to the surface chasing emergers, but no pattern of fish taking bugs on the swing (except the sunfish, who are wild and have been with the program for a while now).  I did not toss a bugger, not even a jigged bugger, but with the water pretty low and very clear, I decided to stay with a frenchie on the point and a small pt on the dropper—both of which were eaten in equal measure.  Something a bit more adventurous on Saturday to take advantage of the low water on a bigger creek, methinks.  The boy is game for a beach trip on Sunday too.  We shall see how he feels about wind-driven rain, however....