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| Friday late session and the after dinner hang. |
I attended my third warmwater jam with about a dozen dudes from the PA Flyfish forum (PAFF). Josh has become a fishing buddy, so it was good to see him and Brian again this summer, but many of the same guys return to this one each year, so I got to reconnect with some good guys. It is a smaller group than the main jam in the spring near Penns Creek, so it’s more lowkey (although a few fellas, men in their 60s, stayed up all night on Friday drinking and solving the world’s problems). Larry and I have stayed in contact even if we have not fished since last year, but we paired up for a couple sessions, including Friday night into dark and Sunday morning before sunrise. We both messed with our best fish at these times, even if we did not land them all. John is another dude I connected with a couple of years ago, and he joined me and Brian (and almost Larry) for an adventure on Saturday afternoon. Fishing was decent, but it was not on fire. There were plenty of stories about big fish that got off, but not as many pictures. I saw Larry land a good one and break one off, and he was there when I lost a good one on a crappy predawn-tied knot. Larry witnessed Josh losing a pig too. I guess it’s harder to “rip lips” with the buggy whip. I would have buried a ned rig in their bony jaws, but there is some magic to fooling a good bass on a fly rod regardless of the outcome. I threw poppers and dries and buggers, but like last year I had my best success with a balanced leech under a bobber—it worked until it didn’t this year.
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| A good one from Friday night. |
I did not arrive until after 5 PM on Friday because I had to work and had a later appointment in the afternoon. Traffic was terrible too. Something happened on the eastbound lanes of the PA Turnpike that messed traffic up in both directions for many hours. The ride should take 2.5 hours, maybe a little longer in the early Friday rush, but I kept seeing the time on my navigation add up. I rolled the dice, not believing that they couldn’t clear the accident in two hours, and I only met an 11-minute delay at the accident site, even though Google kept telling me to get off the highway for an hour straight. Coming home was still a bit jacked up, so my Sunday commute took me down 283 from Harrisburg, through Amish Country, and all the way to 202 in Chester County. The things I do to fish sometimes. Friday night was humid but good conditions, but in running our mouths socializing, Larry and I both realized it was nearly 8 PM before we got our acts together to fish. It was a good little session, though. He broke one off on a big white Wulf and landed another, and I landed one of my best fish and a couple others on the leech before it got completely dark. Josh bequeathed me the couch in the farmhouse, so I did not have to set up my tent by headlight or headlamp, and I ended up sleeping in the house on the same couch on Saturday night too—car camping in August is for suckers, apparently. Since the crowd was light and some of the oldest gents did not come this weekend or left after a rainy Saturday, there were more beds and more of us taking advantage of that luxury, not to mention the air conditioning.
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| The balanced leech did some damage. Damsel swarm. Some more Saturday shots. |
Saturday was humid and hot with storms around. I got rained on 1.5 times. I fished near Josh’s property with John in the morning, and the leech cleaned up on average fish and one decent one. After lunch, it poured for a good long time. When it stopped, Brian and I organized a party to take a mile-long hike up to a good riffle. Thunder started rumbling, so Larry turned back like a (wise old) mitch, but John, Brian, and I kept going. We managed to out-walk the storm, which soaked the guys at camp if that gives you any indication of how localized these storms were. The cumulative effect of the all the rain around the region did spike the river a couple times, and it was grassy to the point of annoyance during a couple sessions, but this hike to the riffle was worth it. Brian got a few on top, including a couple decent fish, and John and I put some numbers on the counter with clousers and even a stimulator dry fly. Each late morning/early afternoon, the damsel flies had the fish jumping clear out of the water to eat. I saw multiple 15- and 16-inch fish clear the water chasing adult damsels, so they must taste good if you’re a bass. I know Larry caught half a dozen on Friday with a Wulff pattern. We quit when Josh texted us saying dinner was on the grill. We needed our third meat-forward meal of the day! It’s hard work wet-wading in heavy G3 boots, even more work taking a two-mile hike in those Herman Munster boots—no skipping leg day this weekend.
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| Brian on Saturday afternoon. An early shift on Sunday with Larry. |
Joe, whom I floated with last year in a monsoon, wanted a do over, but he had a graduation ceremony at PSU on Saturday. He arrived on Sunday and asked if I wanted to go, but I was up at 5:30 AM and fishing with Larry by 6:15 AM. That became the extent of my fishing plans for Sunday, which promised to be hot and humid again. I fished the early shift with Larry and decided that it was my fishing for the day. It might have been a very memorable morning had I landed the pig I hooked on a big 4- or 5-inch bunny leech before sunrise. Larry had landed his best just minutes before, so the plan to fish early for bigger fish was not a bad one in theory. I could not buy even a hit after my early encounter, and Larry’s fishing fizzled too, so we went back and ate breakfast with Josh. Joe tried his best to persuade me, and Dave W was looking for a float partner too, but I was feeling like I was done. Tom, Mo, John, and I hung out until noon and helped Josh take down the big tent and clean up the mess. By 12:30 PM, I was showered and on the road home. I knew I had to take another 6-hour round trip on Wednesday to Lewisburg to deliver the boy to freshman orientation. I guess I had enough of bass because I ruled out stashing a rod in the ‘Ru even though there was probably room for my 7-weight in a tube.
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| Bonus shot |
It was a good weekend of socializing with plenty of laughter. John and Larry spend at least two hours killing mosquitos and other flying insects with bug zapper tennis rackets, and Mo and Tom shared stories about the early years of PAFF and some of the most interesting spring jams—the theme is always that the crew gets uninvited for a year or two and then allowed back to the campground. Everybody brought food and snacks, and Josh did a lot of cooking as our gracious host. It was great to see some of these guys again, and I hope it’s not a year for a few of them. Granted, I will see Brian and Josh in October if not before. We have another camping trip planned in Central PA for October, hopefully a pre-spawn brown trout bonanza. I may even persuade Larry to fish on a weekend (or take off a day myself). Or maybe I will find a job that lets me fish the weekdays like the good old days!?
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| Rainy day in Lewisburg: I have four years to figure out the West Branch of the Susquehanna. |
