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| An early start in the mountains of Central Pennsylvania. |
This no rain thing is depressing. At least the bass are starting to migrate
into Jersey and will hit the beaches consistently when the winds and water temps get right. For the time being, looking for a quick
getaway on a weekend morning has been nearly impossible. I did make a few casts on the evening of October
19th when I was in Asbury Park for a weekend of drinking and socializing,
but kids were swimming earlier that afternoon, so my confidence was not high
even though the surf looked very sexy.
The following weekend found me looking at gauges and nixing plan after
plan, deciding instead to wait until this week to play hooky and fish a
destination crick without the crowds.
This destination crick had been holding its flows better than most, but
it was still very low. Still, Penns Crick
is almost always a memorable and productive trip, so I made the 3-hour drive in
the dark to arrive before sunrise to 35-degree air temperatures but eventually
cooperative wild trouts. Despite my once-common
practice for which this blog got its original title, for the first time in
quite a long time, I used a true sick day to fish, and I regret nothing. Remember the math is only bad if the fishing
is bad. Three hours there to fish six to
drive three home? Yep, and I caught over
15 wild trout in so-called “technical” but lovely conditions.
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| I gave it a shot at least. |
Technical is guide speak for low and clear, basically. For me that just means small tippet, small
bugs, stealthy wading in pocket water, and very careful casts in what deep holes
I can find. It also means fishing early
for the advantage of low light. In the
mountains of Central PA, depending on where you fish, that low light could last
until 11 AM this time of year, and I was fortunate to find a really good stretch
of pocket water right as the warmup and the last of the shade converged with a
sparse hatch of small caddis and midges.
I caught maybe 5 small fish, including a double (so 6), on small bugs under a
small bobber before the magic two-hour window.
It was cold to start, a few clicks above freezing, so the slow start was
not unexpected. During that perfect two-hour
window, however, I landed a couple good fish in pocket water, a handful of
12-13 inchers, and more smalls. I even
found one of the rainbows that the locals put in and had my second double of
the year too. I eventually settled on a
single olive perdigon and fished upstream.
Most of the better fish ate when I was well below them fishing a long 5X
leader—another “technical” approach I use.  |
| A good fish in "technical" conditions. |
A couple of the females looked misshapen and hollow enough
to have been post-spawn, but I saw no evidence of redds. I recall Sam, who knows this spot well and
even gave me some boots on the ground intel the evening before, saying that he
believes most of the fish here use the tributaries because they have better gravel
substrate in them. Sam was guiding (again)
today, so we have yet to find time to fish together this year! I can confirm that even in the low water, I noted
nothing that looked like good spawning habitat.
When I fished around one nice island and expected to see redds, there
was nothing but large rubble fanning out behind. There were some fish in all the deeper riffles
and pockets in the riffles, one pushing over mid-teens and a few over 12
inches. That handful alone made it worth
the long ride.
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| More fishes. Post spawn hen below? Doub life. |
When I reached the end of the island, it was close to noon,
so I decided to walk back to the lot and take a break. My day had started before 2 AM when I got up
to piss an hour before the 3 AM alarm, so I was running on caffeine and freedom. On the walk back I did watch a couple pods of
average fish dimpling for olives or midges, so I debated walking back up after
the break and fishing the same stretch again in warmer (but far brighter and breezier)
conditions. Instead, I decided to test my
memory and navigation skills to find another unposted stretch of water where I
have had some memorable visits with Sam.
Access to this stretch is in flux with some purple paint upstream and what
appears, judging from all the trampled grass and riparian plants, to be a
thriving Airbnb downstream, but I found the riffle and bend pool. Water was low and clear, so after nymphing
the head and some pockets without a touch, I even fished with a New Zealand
indicator for 30 minutes in the deeper water near the tailout. Not a touch.
I spooked one fish out from under a rock as I made a crossing to fish
the opposite bank—a novelty crossing since it would have been impossible on
most days. I was hoping that I might
scare one up in a deeper run along that far bank and away from the pressure,
but that productive morning window had likely closed for a few hours.
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| Even lower at the second spot I managed to relocate. |
With the breeze kicking up and some increased clouds, I was
hoping for some bug life to save the second shift, but I resisted heading back
to the first spot. It would have been a
lot of effort if the fish down there were acting the same way as their cousins
upstream. I accepted that the productive
window had closed and decided to get a jump on any Harrisburg rush hour traffic. The boys, especially Sandy Dunkin, are chomping
at the bit for some surf fishing. Pete already
had success with the snag and drop fleet in North Jersey, so if I head out this
weekend it may be in search of striped bass from the sand. I would rather be here in these mountains,
however! The drive up took me over the depressingly
low Juniata and Susquehanna rivers, but the drive home had me winding through
the heights of the Bald Eagle State Forest.
I have done this drive while snow was falling on the peaks in January. Today’s drive was equally enjoyable with the
remaining fall colors, and probably a lot safer.
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| Bonus shots. Another angle of the best fish of the morning. |
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