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Beauty. |
I guess four
creeks in a day counts as a tour, right?
I hit three of them with Josh and one on my own waiting for Harrisburg
traffic to disperse before beginning the drive home. I used three different rods for three
different types of creeks too. It was a
solid 16-hour day, with at least 10 hours of them fishing or traveling in between
fishing destinations, so let’s stop debating whether it was a tour or not. As the title states, Josh’s final day of teaching
was last Friday, so today was the start of his 2.5 months of fishing his butt
off. I almost forgot that when I took
off Friday for my bass trip with The Boy I also put in a PTO day for today. When we flipped the calendar in the kitchen to
June, I saw my genius forethought. What’s
a guy to do? I texted Josh and asked if
he was fishing on Monday, and he said of course. Then he started formulating a plan to show me
some creeks or sections of creeks that he and I had not fished together. I did not have to leave my house at 3 AM, but
I did meet a mitch at 8 AM to start a long day of pretty productive
fishing. The piggy that opens this post
was at our third creek of the day, a rather large and, on this day, still rain-swollen
limestoner. Before that, we hit two
small creeks whose flows were perfect, and I closed out the afternoon at a favorite
medium-sized limestoner that was stained and pushing some H2O, but after the
big crick, it was like fishing a lazy river, a cool down from an aerobic
afternoon.
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The new signature hat? |
We packed all
my stuff into Josh’s minivan. A guy (barely)
under 40 without kids of his own driving a minivan? If you saw the thing, it would make sense,
and you wouldn’t make assumptions about his possible ill intentions or bad life
choices 😉
It actually works quite well as a fishing vehicle. In fact, when he did not arrive in the van for
our camping trip with Brian in May, I was a little sad. It has like 250 miles on the odometer, so it wisely
does not move far from base camp.
Fortunately, Josh’s home base is rife with spring creeks and cold freestoners,
many off the radar. Our first stop was
one such little-known gem, and it fished well.
Fish were small on average, but so was the creek. It was like brookie fishing for browns. We both appreciate wild brown trout creeks,
however, because there is a chance to scare up an outsized fish once in a
while. The best fish today on this creek
was my wide, mature 11-inch jigged bugger eater, but we both saw a massive fish
roll on a falling bugger in one particular pocket. Josh was like, What was that? And I was like, Did you see what I think I
saw? It was so big I swore it was an
errant rainbow, but with the high water, some of the browns today, including
the big one I landed in the afternoon, had very pale bellies not buttery yellow
ones. Josh has tangled with fish to 18
inches in this creek, so he was less surprised than me, I bet. Anyway, we caught a good number of beautiful
little fish here before we ran out of unposted land and needed to make a move.


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Creek #1 fish. Brookie fishing for browns. |
Josh’s next choice
was to show me his favorite creek, the one he hits for a few hours when he
needs to get out, his home waters. It is
a really gorgeous creek with chalky limestone water and pretty trout. I knew that before we arrived because he’d
taken me here before and forgotten…. He
gave me the option to fish another open section of the same crick, but I liked
what I saw the first time I fished this place, so we saw this beat again for
the first time. Josh landed one nicer small
stream wild brown, and we both landed a couple smalls, but we also had to
contend with eager stocked rainbows here.
With midday upon us, the bite had changed too, with fish only
tentatively taking the bugger or chasing it down and not eating. Josh and I each made a couple fly changes
after seeing what adult bugs were flying around—not a lot but enough to make an
informed choice—but when nothing really developed, we abandoned this beat and
decided that a bigger creek would be fishable.
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A nicer fish from creek 2# we fished again for the first time. |
Creek number 3
was fishable, but it was also pretty damn high.
We’ve fished a different stretch of this creek together once when it was
100 CFS higher, so it was not a stupid choice by any means, especially with a
guy who knows the crick like the back of his hand. When I fish it alone, I like it at 250 CFS
or under! When it was 500 CFS, I
struggled while Josh did well, due in no small part to that knowledge of the
creek and what’s underneath. On that
morning last year, I had no clue what I was looking at most of the time. Today, it was far easier to figure out the
bite. The challenge was really just wading
into position to hit the likely high-water holding spots. It was just a more physically demanding
choice, basically. But it was well worth
the stop. I mean, look at the piggy that
opens this post. This fish, and several seam
buddies, took the dropper tag of my two-nymph rig right where you’d expect them
to eat in high water. They ate a size 16
nymph, an olive one even in this stained water, so I bet they had over 2 feet
of visibility despite the sun lighting up all the particulates in the high water. Besides the one big fish, we caught a lot of
small wild boys and way too many hungry rainbows. Some of them were healthy, full-finned 14
inch bows, so they were fun until they weren’t. When you start out with a high teens wild
brown, you are hoping for more or at least some mid-teen relatives or offspring.
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Bonus shot of the good one. |
It was approaching
late afternoon, and Josh was done, so he made a heroic crossing with rubber
soles and no wading staff nearly parallel to our parked vehicles. I picked a stout stick and tried to follow,
but I am 56 and my day started at 3 AM, so I wisely turned back when I sensed
that my studded boots were not going to hold when I got into the full waist
deep current. I took my time and back
tracked to one of my original crossing points, and I think Josh thought he’d
lost me. He was packed up and ready to
head home by the time I strolled back to the lot—dry and not physically taxed. In fact, after we said our goodbyes, I decided
to take a rest at a local park in the shade, eat a little something, drink my iced
coffee, and fish one more creek before making the long drive home. I did not choose another stretch of this big
creek, nor did I choose another tiny one, but like Goldilocks, I suppose, I
settled on one that was just right. I
have had some great days on this one, a medium limestoner. It was still pushing a lot of water and stained, but wading
was a pleasure compared to where I’d just parted ways with Josh.
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Solo tour on creek #4. |
Fish were
cooperative too. No real bugs were
present like I had hoped, not even as evening approached, but a soft hackle
caddis on the dropper tag was the bug they wanted, so caddis have been around. Bows get around, and so I caught a few rainbows
here, unfortunately, but I also landed at least half a dozen more average wild
browns in a short session. I was hopeful
that one of the 12 to 14 inchers I know from experience are in this particular
stretch of creek would show himself, but I had to be content with 8-10 inch
fish. In pocket water with my 3 weight,
I was still having a lot of fun late into my long day. There was no use driving through rush hour in
the Commonwealth’s capital city, so this fourth stop gave me a leisurely capstone
to a productive day of fishing. It was a
perfect evening, too, with low humidity, dappled sunlight, and a little breeze. I was home before 9:30 PM and in bed by 10:30
PM, dreading the 6:15 AM alarm clock but content from a nice, long, fishy
weekend.
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Parting shot. June flows ought to remain awesome! |