August 2-4, 2024 – Three Days of (Mostly) Bass Fishing at the PAFF Warmwater Jamboree – Central PA

My accommodations for the long weekend of variable weather and fishing.

It rained enough to stop traffic on 322/22 on the way out to Central PA on Friday morning.  Since I was not hydroplaning or anything drastic, I just slowed down and kept moving.  My intention was to get to the warmwater jam at Josh’s family homestead along the Juniata River early enough to help him set up a bit.  That did not really work out, as I did not arrive until after 11 AM with all the delays, including an accident just past the bridge over the Susquehanna near Dauphin.  Josh had done most of the work himself already, but a couple other guys were there earlier than me that may have pitched in (or not).  Last year I car camped in the ‘Ru, but I decided that a tent was a better option, except for the forecasted rain and all.  I put up the tent between showers and managed to keep everything dry until the rainfly was in place.  It was hot and humid, but the sun returned quickly after the torrential downpours.   

Some chunks

After hanging out with some other early arrivals, Josh and I fished midday and did pretty well.  Always the good host, he cut his fishing short to start prepping an early cookout so that folks, including himself, could hit the river for the evening bite.  I met some good guys and reconnected with a couple others, but the highlight had to be hanging out with Larry, who has read this blog for a long time.  We have talked about fishing together for a little while, but that will certainly happen now that we’ve met.  Food and fishing talk with a couple of the forum moderators and other members was followed by a decent but disappointing evening fishing session.  Disappointing because the topwater bite never happened for most, but Dave W. found white flies, or more likely some other pale mayfly, and had some surface fun after most had returned to camp.  Always one of the last to leave the water, I still missed that white fly hatch while floating a black gurgler with no takers, all while listening to Dave’s success in the dark.  I caught some decent fish in both day and night sessions, however, most on a bugger or a crayfish pattern.

A nice evening after a rainy afternoon.

The tent was plenty comfortable and cool, but a nearby railway with trains sounding the whistle on the hour all night brought back bad memories of poor sleep last year at this event!  Oh yeah, and the rooster was up at 4:45 AM. Good thing I was only in for a 6-mile float in a two-man Flycraft raft on Saturday.  I met Joe last year and communicated with him a bit this year, but I had not gotten out to Central PA to fish with him again.  Even though he took Larry on Friday for a long, hot, rather mediocre fishing day, he did not want to disappoint me, I suppose, so he did it again on Saturday.  It was a very cool experience, and it was good to get some fishing time with Joe, but we probably should have heeded the weather reports.  It was hot to start, then we hit heavy enough rain that we had to bail 2 inches of water out of the boat.  It was the wind blowing upriver, enough to blow us back to the put-in ramp had we not anchored a couple times, that really made us wonder if we’d make it to the end of the float.  We made it, eventually.  Josh and the crew sitting safe and dry under the big top back at the farm sent a couple wise-ass text, but I think it was just their way of showing concern for our well-being.  Yeah, right! 

Joe even got to fish a bit while I rowed; the work it takes to float.

We caught a few fish, but nothing of size and nothing worth the effort we expended rowing, bailing, and casting.  It was a very sexy part of the river, however, so Joe and I were both impressed enough to note that this was a stretch to try again in much more fish-conducive weather conditions.  Joe is about my age and just as obsessed.  Even after a physically and mentally draining day, I think we were riding the high of actually surviving our day on the water or something.  Instead of relaxing and eating the dinner the camp dudes kindly left behind for us on the grill, we suited up again and headed right for the river, still in the wet clothes we'd worn all day long!  It was a good call and truly made the day for me.  Although the dinner looked really tempting at the time.

A very sexy stretch of river worth a redo someday.

That Saturday evening, I decided to experiment with a level/balanced leech under an indicator, and it was a good experiment.  A level leech is basically a bugger that is tied with a jig hook’s eye about in the middle of the bug, not up by the bead.   A pin is used to tie in the tungsten bead ahead of the hook eye, so the bugger hangs level under a suspension device.  I had a vision that this technique of dead-drifting a bugger most often used in stillwater fishing could have deadly applications in certain rivers, especially this stretch of the Juniata near camp.  I was not wrong.  

Balanced leech did damage.

I lost a very nice fish and landed a couple solid teens, close to 20 fish in total in a couple hours of fishing.  The little fish hit like trout, or showed like trout on the bobber, but the bigger bass buried the plastic bubble!  That was exciting, what I imagine steelheading must be like with a similar set-up.  Even with a 7-weight rod, any bass over 12 inches accounts well for themselves.  I fished well into dark and heard Larry land a solid fish on a white wulff when the so-called white fly hatch returned.  I caught fish up to the last cast on the bobber and leech, so I did not switch up.  I think in our haste to get to the river, I neglected to bring my dry fly box anyway, which was my intention for the evening if the leech experiment was a bust.  I remember hearing Larry shout, “You’re the last man on the river,” as he headed back to camp to join the others.  I did join the rest of the dudes and some newer arrivals shortly thereafter.  I even got a shower and agreed to Josh’s offer to sleep on the couch in the house (and in the AC) this evening.  I still heard the train, but I did actually sleep more than an hour at a time on Saturday night.

A nice leech fish.  Many fish that evening well into dark.

Because I was there to fish and we both had the time, young Josh and I trout fished on Sunday, too.  I gave it an admirable try much earlier in the day, making a ride north and west to a watershed I enjoy fishing.  I was up at 5 AM, so why not, right?  Rain totals varied from town to town, ridge to ridge, and this valley had gotten pounded.  The creeks were not fishable, basically, so I got a coffee, a Gatorade, and some gas at Sheetz, and then scoped out a little Class A brookie creek on the way back.  I just walked and did not suit up.  I knew Josh was coming back to the farm to start coffee and breakfast around 8 AM, so I figured I would check in and be a social fisherman for a third day in a row if others were staying.  Sunday was the nicest day weatherwise, and the rain made trout guys like me a bit jittery with possibilities.  When everyone decided to head out pretty early on Sunday morning, I joined Josh alone for a little trout adventure.  

The rain made the trout guys wanna fish.

He showed me a couple spots, and one looked fantastic, but fish were not all that active.  I did witness Josh catch a decent small stream brown of about 10-11 inches, so I trust they are in there.  The second creek we visited did not get the same rain totals, so it barely had a stain.  I caught a few little gemmies and a spring holdover rainbow.  Josh found a couple bows and a few brookies the same size as mine, like 4-inchers.  Still, it was good to spend some more time with Josh, who has been generous with his home waters, heck with his home period.  Not only did he allow 15 or more dudes to camp on his property, but he set the older gentlemen up with beds and linens in the house, cooked for us, put up a big tent alone, shared fishing spots that would highlight his beloved home river, even served as a shuttle for a couple floats.  We fished together this spring, and we made plans to hook up again in the fall once his school year starts.  I also anticipate fishing with Larry and Joe again in the not too distant future.  Part of the reason I have been going to these things and branching out in general is to find more fishing partners, some dudes as sick with it as myself, and even some who can teach me a few things.  Even conversations with the old timers and OG PAFF-ers, like Tom, Barry or the illustrious Les, whom I met when he bought a rod from me some time ago, is not always on the nostalgia tip. Instead, there is a welcomed exchange of ideas with those who are wise, curious, and still young at heart.  Hot, rainy, buggy, mediocre fishing-wise at times, and yet a great weekend getaway with a bunch of good guys.