 |
| You're a king, fallguy! |
You know when I start a post with a pic of a fallfish, albeit
a citation-worthy specimen of the native Pennsylvania species, that this post
is going to have more crick pics than fish pics. I spent Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday
morning out near Raystown Lake with Brian and Josh. Brian’s sister has a place out there, and he
was kind enough to invite us for what might be a new tradition, a low-key
supplement to the camping trips and the Josh Jam on the Juniata. It’s a cool place, and we had beds and A/C,
not to mention Father Josh Mitchie treating us to some guitar playing and even
singing. Heck, Brian and I even had a
couple beers after a rough Saturday evening session. It was a long ride for bad fishing, and Brian
almost called it off, but it was good to hang with the boys a bit, and a few
fish were caught. Brian lost power in
Lancaster County for several days leading up to our departure, so it was touch and
go. His area got 3 inches of rain one
day, and close to another 3 inches the next, and that’s what it looked like on
the creeks and rivers further west in Huntington County too. The Juniata River had been low, so it was
wadable and fishable, but the color was awful.
The same goes for a bigger warmwater trib and even a couple third-order trout streams, which were both muddy AND warm despite the limestone influence. We did not even try the Little J or the
Frankie, but we bounced around a bit. Honestly,
we gave it a good shot on Saturday with at least three different cricks, but
results were not much to write (home) about. We did not even fish on Sunday....
 |
| The chanterelles could have been the highlight! |
Brian and Josh had been up since Thursday, and they had a
good lake outing for panfish, but I did not arrive until about 7:30 PM on
Friday. I had to work until 2 PM that
day. I did get to have dinner with the
boys since Brian saved me a little something from the grill. And we even got into some Corropolese tomato
pie and bakery chocolate chip cookies that had been torturing me in the
passenger seat on the drive out there. After
breakfast on Saturday morning, we assessed a small creek near the house for
wild fish, and Josh did get a tiny brown to eat a dry fly before we decided it
was not worth much more effort. The
potential highlight was that Brian found some chanterelles and filled his hat
with the bounty. Unfortunately, with all
the rain, they ended up being covered in grit and sand when we tried to eat
them with eggs on Sunday morning! I know
you’re not supposed to wash wild shrooms, but I guess the heavy rains had splashed
soil all of over these ones, so in retrospect a little rinse in the sink would
have helped. Nothing went all that well this weekend,
I guess!
 |
| Pretty spot minus the muddy water. |
After a break at the house (and more tomato pie in the
truck for lunch) we drove to a warmwater trib of the Juniata that has bass,
panfish, even pickerel. Brian and I
caught a couple sunfish, he dropped a bass, Josh “got a rock” trying to fish
bigger stuff for a pickerel, and I landed king fallguy. After chunking a bugger and then plopping a gurgler
close to cover for a couple hours, it was the balanced leech under a bobber
that scored this native stud. After a great
battle (and I have gone on record saying that I think the fallfish battle is often
over-rated) I thought maybe this was a good bass. Brian happened to be walking back down the access road toward the parking spot and saw me mid-fight. He thought it was a big bass, but I was not totally
convinced yet. Trout? Pickerel?
Sucker? When I saw the forked
tail of a fallguy, I was a bit disappointed but also impressed. Josh had already called us both by this point,
but service was spotty. He was at the
truck and ready to go, and I was too, honestly. Even wet wading, it was an uncomfortable day
to be outdoors. There was 100% humidity
and hazy sun and just ugly, muddy water everywhere. We dropped a thermometer in a couple trout
streams on the natural reproduction list, but they were 68 F. The first little creek was even 65 F, so it
was not a trout day/weekend. After a
rest at the house, Josh decided to head home to appease his woman, and Brian I
and I just chilled at the house, having dinner before deciding to toss spinning
gear at smallmouths to end the evening.
 |
| We only stayed long enough for me to take a pic upstream and a pic downstream... |
After a bushwhack down to the river with Brian in shorts
and getting covered with ticks, we made a dozen casts behind an island, a
classic high-water spot when fish are cooperating in high water. We did not get a touch! I did find a box of small stream bass lures
that I willed to Brian. It was full of
the classics: Rebel Crawdads, Baby and Tiny Torps, inline spinners, a little Spook. I have a garage full of this stuff that my
son will have to get rid of some day, so I knew Brian would put them to better
use. They needed a good cleaning after
sitting in river silt for an indeterminate piece, but there was no rust or
damage otherwise. We decided not to waste
too much time here and went for a drive in the waning daylight. Brian knew a tailwater branch nearby would be
clean, at least. It was. Almost too clean. I tied on a Baby Torpedo and basically waited
for darkness. It was not a bad plan. I caught some panfish on top killing time
until the low light hopefully woke up the bass.
In the last 20 minutes before dark, real dark, I managed two smallmouth
under 11 inches long. They blew up on
the topwater in riffles, so they were fun, but they were not exactly what I drove
3 hours to find. Nor did Brian drive 2+
hours to catch a holdover rainbow trout on a soft plastic creature. It
was just one of those summer weekends, I guess.
July has been rough. I had 4 days
off around July the Fourth and it was 100 degrees, so I am glad I
got out this weekend and saw the boys. Neither
Brian nor I had any motivation to do it all again on Sunday, and so we did not. I took the long way home and enjoyed the
views of the rivers and mountains.
 |
| Clean low water at last, but no camera-worthy bass. |
