August 16, 2024 – Just Cashing in on the Very Tail End of that Debby-induced August Bonus Round – SEPA

Pretty girl.

Well, things are about back to normal in the waters I fish now that we are nearly two weeks post-Hurricane Debby.  There was still a lot of new wood to snag in this particular creek this morning, but with flows almost back to normal, it was not a chore to get those bugs unstuck.  I started fishing about 6:15 AM this morning, probably 15 minutes later than intended because I hit highway construction that I should have planned for in advance.  Some days I just want to drive and not use navigation, and today that sort of bit me in the arse.  No worries, since fishing was pretty terrible early.  I don’t know if the cooler nights have had an effect, or if the fish really wait for the tricos to emerge before waking up, or what.  It’s not like I saw risers taking tricos, but their increased activity and the warming morning seemed to coincide with more fish activity.  When the swarm was very close to the water, I picked up a couple bows and a nice wild brown on a small, buggy dropper tag, so a few were off the bottom and actively taking bugs in pocket water between 9:30 and 10 AM.  It was a grind there for a while, however.  I fished 3 hours for one small brown and one missed hit from a mystery fish that would not hit again.  And then the last 90 minutes of fishing were really solid.  Not only did I land two nice brown trout, but a handful of rainbows also started eating. 

A bit more battle worn (and in the shade).

I am pretty sure the biggest brown was a battle-worn male based on the anal fin and the sheer girth, but the prettiest by far was the hen I stuck in six inches of pocket water.  I was in deep shade with the first one, so the pics were all dark, while the second nice fish was nearly in full sun at 10 AM.  The fights were night and day too.  The bigger fish took a walts under a bobber that I used for more control and reach in a big, deep, dark hole.  He buried the tiny indicator, but the fight was just some bulldogging and some hole wandering, enough hole wandering to blow up all but the head of the run for any other fish opportunities.  By contrast, the female jumped twice, once almost landing in my net.  I tried to keep her ahead of me in the riffles, hoping to use speed to land her, even if she was still very green.  That almost worked, but I did eventually have to backtrack a couple yards in order to subdue this one in a softer side pocket.  I took a water temperature, and it was 63 degrees, not 58 or something, but this fish and the bows that came from different lines within the same run were hot fish.  The fact that I got two of the rainbows to stop moving and pose for a photo is a triumph in itself.

A couple bows stayed still.

After having that hour and a half of good action, I was tempted to move to another spot or even re-fish some early spots that I knew held fish who were just being difficult earlier in the morning.  When I got out from under the mature trees, it was feeling pretty hot and sunny, so in the end I decided against that plan.  I don’t like to be a glutton, anyway.  Oh, I will do it, catch 50 trouts, especially if the temps are cool and the fish are cooperative or if I have driven 3 hours to fish and need to make a day of it to justify the drive.  That was not the case this morning.  I was just happy to take an hour ride, catch some fish, including a couple good ones, and still be home before lunch.  I actually took the boy out for a pre-birthday burger and finally found a present we’d been searching for online (and even in a specialty shop in downtown Philly) in a Dick’s Sporting Goods of all places.  No one else was working today either, as it was bumper to bumper with bikes and walkers at the creek, on most of the drive home, and in all the retail parking lots this afternoon too.  I guess this is the time of year where camps end and school has not yet started, so parents with young kids are off because they have to be.  I remember those days all too well.

Right up in that stuff and fully oxygenated battles as a result.

My boy is going to be 17 this weekend and will be going off to college this time next year, but he spent a lot of time playing Nintendo Switch in my office(s) at a couple colleges and universities over the years.  I guess he’s a pro at the college thing already, at least the cafeterias!  He and I are on the call list for a Susquehanna bass trip this week if things line up for Glenn, the dude Kenny and I fished with earlier this year.  He sent me some pics of good fish that he caught before Debby while out on scouting trips.  Usually, the main branch is even too low for a jet this time of year, but 7 inches of rain may have changed that this August.  I hope it works out.  This has been an odd weather summer, and the fluke trip was not that fun for him, so some smallies on topwater would be a nice final hurrah before he starts senior year of high school.  I certainly made the most of this rain and look forward to the next round this weekend.  

Bonus shots.  Even boosting the exposure, I did not get a good one of the this good one.

August 11, 2024 – Small Stream Sneaking for a Dozen Wild Boys and Girls (and a Bow) – SEPA

Do I make you horny?  Randy?

Funny how a little rain and cool weather make me horny… for trout.  I had a little taste on Saturday night, but I did not get to hit half of the water I wanted to fish on one crick let alone have time to check out a second or third one.  I took the wet boots and wading socks out of the ‘Ru last night to “dry,” but I left the other stuff in there with plans to get up early and fish another creek.  I was up at 3:45 AM and fishing before 6 AM at a freestoner that has some limestone influence in one small stretch below where I was but mostly benefits from a good canopy of trees and a rather high gradient for a valley stream.  I took a water temperature reading when I considered quitting at 9 AM, and it was pushing 66 degrees, so the rain may have even spiked the temperature, and my decision to call it was made.  It was cool enough to start, with the air temperature below 60 degrees, making me rethink my wet wading plans, especially while sliding on already-wet boots and neoprene booties before official sunrise.  There was no plan B with the waders 90 minutes away in the garage, so I took the plunge and kept the boys out of the equation for the morning. 

A few cooperated just before sunrise.

The benefit of this plan was that my phone could stay in my back pocket, especially on such a small stream, so I could take a bunch of pictures, which I did.  I took several fish pics of representative sizes and even some of the lairs from which they were captured.  I had a blast, catching a dozen or more trouts in about 3 hours of fishing and walking.  And I never even fished the honey holes upstream after I saw that 66 F mark at 9 and decided a dozen was enough.  I found only one rainbow among the wild boys and girls, but she looked pretty healthy.  She should be, having been lucky enough or smart enough to find herself in one of the best holes on this stretch of crick.  I still have not landed a small stream pig out of a couple of these holes that just look big-fishy—see the log jam, the root ball, and even the live tree perpendicular to the current with a deep hole underneath and washout behind as evidence.  I tried a bugger a couple of times, but I eventually found that fish had no problem finding very natural-colored prey in the slight remaining stain.  To that end, an olive perdigon I put on to maximize quick depth penetration in pocket water and log jams—especially when I had to fish a particular log jam from upstream—was the most eaten bug, with a blue perdigon in midge size a close second.  Like Saturday night, the temps and flows had them eating, but the water was not cool enough to really get them fired up.  I had many nudges and quick pecks that did not connect, which could be YOY or could be dickish fish that simply opened up and let the bug pass over their jaws without bothering to move an inch from their lies.

Some sexy spots, even in the side channels.  Very grrr, baby....

Still, I could not complain about catching over a dozen wild fish and a pretty holdover in such fun and challenging spots.  The flooding rains urged a couple decent fish to migrate into little side channels that I would not have even tried had a couple early attempts in these spots not been rewarded with fish.  Wild fish do get around, and I feel like they sometimes spread out not congregate when the going gets tough.  Why ride out the heat and low water in a deep hole with a lot of competition when you might find one little plunge in a dark recess with no one else around?  I know big fish do that, and I tried these spots hoping for a real surprise, but just the presence of a fish in a few of these deeper cut spots was rewarding enough.  The dry dropper rod was in the car, but I felt like small bugs that dropped quickly into the sweet spots on a micro-mono rig served me better today.  I always have regrets about a potential terrestrial dry fly bonanza in summertime, but I am not sure this morning would have been that.

A honey hole but no cooperative piggy in there (yet).

I was hoping to stretch this trip to 10 AM, and I probably could have, but I was just grateful for a couple more chances at trout in August after the summer we’ve had.  Eric called me at 6 AM on his way to take care of some work when he saw my car missing from the driveway, lamenting that we should have gone to our secret spot this morning.  I know Josh was getting just as excited about the rain, perhaps even more, so that makes me feel more normal.  Heck, he and a couple of dudes on the forum that he may have shamed into taking a look were out there assessing cricks on Friday before most were truly fishable.  I was packed up for Friday, as I may have shared in my last post, but I am glad I had the patience to take the old bull approach and hit a couple cricks when they were just about right, even if I did not hit them all….  They were not perfect at 65 degrees, but they were not 73 degrees either.  Fish responded accordingly.  I am hopeful that that a week of 60s overnight and another shot of rain towards the end of this week keeps this party going.  I know there is summer weather left, but I feel like we’ve turned the corner.

More trouts, including that smart or lucky rainbow.

August 10, 2024 – With All the Rain, I Had to Give It a Try for a Couple Hours – SEPA

Fishable for sure, maybe a hair warm.

I was packed up for Friday morning if I saw something too good to pass up on the gages, but the only game in town seemed to be Valley.  I guess I was too tired or unmotivated by what I saw because I rolled over and went back to sleep. Valley has to be perfect for me these days to get me motivated, especially this time of year.  It is a crick whose temps spike in the rain too.  Still, there are always regrets about not getting up!  While sitting through a few Friday meetings and phone calls, I vowed to get out at least once, maybe twice, this weekend to take advantage of the falling water and cooler overnight temperatures.  I had to meet the boy and couple of his friends in our garage on Saturday morning to give them a crash course in surf fishing for summer flounder—who am I kidding, fluke!  I had a feeling they would be dealing with 4–5-foot seas post Debby, and I was not wrong, but I did not want to discourage three teens from fishing.  I cut the lawn, which I had not cut in a while since I was away on that bass fishing mini-vacation last week, and it had been a wet week, all the while noticing that it was not all that hot out.  Why not an evening trip, just a couple hours to see what flows were like on a couple cricks without gages, I thought?  It took until 5 PM for me to commit to the plan fully, but I was fishing by 6 PM at a spot less than an hour from home (well, maybe an hour today with Saturday shopping traffic).  The creek looked high but clearing, and I thought about a streamer, but I decided to nymph a dark bug on the anchor and a pink worm on the dropper tag instead.  With all the runoff, the water was mid-60 degrees at this hour, so I was not convinced that fish would be happy enough to chase a bugger.  I was not wrong.  The fish were a little dickish despite the great looking conditions.

Not too shabby.

About an hour into my two hour wet wade, I got a call from the boy saying the surf was rough and asking about what should they do now.  Go out back, I said.  Find a sea wall or a dock on the bay and catch some spot, croakers, blues, sand sharks, whatever.  Instead, I think they decided to try again on Sunday morning before they had to meet the rest of their friend group at another beach town for a day on the boardwalk and the sand.  Like my wife, whose calls and texts almost always precede a run of fish, I guess he too is good luck because I started hooking some dinks not long after.  I caught three little browns on the worm before I finally hooked a nicer fish.  This one was worth the ride and the effort, a good fish in the 14-inch range that fought well.  This better one took a perdigon on the anchor not the worm, but I did break off another good fish on the worm not long after.   That was about it.  Just before dark, I switched to a bugger and had a nip and a couple follows from small fish that I could see pursue and turn away.  Sometimes this time of year, one decent fish is enough to justify the trip.  And I didn’t even have to get up at 3:30 AM!  That is Sunday’s plan, of course….

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.

July 27, 2024 – Happy Fish, Happy Mitch – SEPA

Some trouts after a long, heat-enforced hiatus.

I knew when I hooked my first fish today, on my third cast, and she took a leap and started digging, that I had made the right call.  It was the first trout—an average spring holdover rainbow, granted—in at least a month.  I will take what I can get this summer.  I knew conditions would be good after some rain and a week of cool evenings, but I confirmed why the fish were so cooperative this morning around 9 AM, when I hung my thermometer in the water for a sustained break and it came back 59 degrees F!  Happy fish and a happy mitch.  Not that I don’t like bass on the fly, but I just don’t do it enough to have a rolodex of spots, especially land-based spots.  I am heading out to Mifflin County next Friday for bass, but I was really happy to catch close to a dozen trout this morning.  I even caught three browns in this Class A wild brown trout crick.  Go figure.

Mostly bows, especially to start.

The air temperature was below 60 F when I stopped at a Wawa on the ride up, so when I arrived at the crick before sunrise, I was already in long sleeves and a buff to help combat the impending shrinkage I would be experiencing while wet wading this morning.  It was manageable early and quite a pleasure later.  I planned to fish until about 9 AM, but I ended up fishing my way back downstream.  Not only did I catch a couple more fish, but I stayed out until 10:30 AM before calling it good.  Tricos were still high in the sky, and I thought about waiting them out, but I did not want to be a glutton.  My one regret was not fishing a dry dropper with a big terrestrial.  I had another rod in the ‘Ru, but I grabbed the nymphing rod and mostly concentrated on pocket water.  I did catch a few in dry fly water with a single small bug and 6X tippet on my micro-mono leader, but I am pretty sure I could have had some fun on the surface this morning too.  Maybe on Sunday if I can drag myself out of bed again....

A single small bug on 6X in pocket water did some damage

Most of the fish took an olive perdigon or, after I noted the trico duns early and switched up, a single 18 frenchie.  I landed most of what I hooked, but while in pocket water, I jumped a couple other decent rainbows that came off the small barbless bug.  There is a lot of algae on the rocks, so they definitely dragged the tippet through some stuff when they got below me.  I kept hoping to find a better brown who had snuck up into the skinny riffles, but the best brown this morning was probably 10 inches.  I landed two others that were a couple years old, and they were in the places I was willing a bigger brown to eat.  No matter.  Like I shared earlier, I was just happy to catch some trouts, so the wild boys were a bonus.  I may (or may not) do this again tomorrow at another Lehigh Valley limestone-influenced creek before the 90-degree temps return.

July 14 and 21, 2024 – Just a Couple Sunday Attempts with Limited Success and Some Exploration of a Childhood Vacation Favorite

A little chocolatey. 

I have been leaving the trout alone, but I made a couple attempts to bass fish this month.  The first was last Sunday after some thunderstorms in Philly.  The rain was not too bad near me, but I thought it was maybe enough to keep the swimmers, both human and canine, at bay for the early evening bite.  I was mistaken on so many fronts.  First of all, the rain was far more significant just 15 minutes from my house, so there were branches down during the drive and the crick was very dirty and nearly too high even to attempt to fish.  Sadly, the storms did not stop the swimmers either.  They were out there swallowing gas and oil runoff and probably dog and human waste too.  When I see news stories about kids drowning while swimming in creeks in the summer, I think of these parents letting little kids swim in storm runoff, current certainly swift enough to carry a kid away and pin them against a tree or boulder.  I know Philly struggles to staff the public pools each summer, but a lot of these folks are from Jersey.  I was cutting my lawn this month, and some grown-ass man and his wife or GF stopped me to ask where the rope swing they heard about on social media was located.  Jersey plates.  Not only did the Sunday storms not send folks packing for home, but they also did not cool things off even a degree or two!  I made some casts in the riffles with a black bugger that pushed some water hoping to blind-squirrel a smallmouth or two, but it was not happening.  It ended up being a humid walk in the woods with way too many people and pets out there.  Ah, summers on the Wissy.  Sometimes I forget how "loved" it is post lockdown days....

Small fish on topwater.  Not even fallfish fry could get them unspooked in low water.

I tried to mix it up for this weekend and do a bit more work to catch a better class of smalljaw.  I had been in touch with Josh out in Mifflin County about meeting up to do the Juniata or a smaller trib of the river(s).  He has been off this summer, rightfully enjoying his first summer following a career change and his first year of teaching high school English.  In the spring he mentioned he might work this summer, and I was like, Yeah right.  You are going to fish your ass off.  Sadly, this has been a terrible weather year for trout, but it does appear that Josh has shirked that work thing as I expected.  I would have done the same.  Anyway, it seems like that makes the weekends tougher to negotiate with his significant other.  He had to cancel out on the weekend, but I decided to take a long ride anyway.  I did not go all the way to Mifflin, but I did get out to Perry County to explore a creek that I have not fished since I was a kid.  My dad had an archery buddy with a hunting cabin in Perry, so I have fond memories of fishing the Juniata, the lake at Little Buffalo State Park, and so on.

Exceedingly low water, but some habitat and small fish found.

Cricks is real low, yo, but I figured I might get a chance to assess habitat better this way—sort of like scouting a new beach at low tide.  This creek has a reputation for bass and trout, but both are mostly seasonal interlopers.  The bass use the creek to spawn, and they do move through the lower section for a while before seeking better temps in the Susquehanna.  The trouts here do the opposite.  They spend some time eating good in the creek until it warms up and they have to retreat to several cold tributaries.  Timing this year is likely off, so both had already left the building, perhaps even a couple weeks ago.  It did not help that flows were darn close to drought conditions.  Like I noted above, it made finding good habitat for future visits a breeze and kept expectations low.  I did find some action at my first stop.  In retrospect, I should have stayed in this deep, shaded hole for much longer, but I wanted to check out as many potential spots as possible.  I had action on small bass, sunfish, rock bass, and fallfish, all on topwater from 5:30 to 7:30 AM.  Had I stuck a good bass or two, I may have stayed longer, but I decided to scout out two other spots instead.  

Some exploration in pretty country.

The second spot I explored was by far the sexiest water, with bluffs and granite fingers creating riffles and pockets that would be great trout and bass water in normal flows.  Crayfish scattered in the grasses as I waded through, and fry of all kinds were active in the shallows.  I even found a few fallfish mounds as evidence of successful spawing.  I tossed crayfish buggers, of course, and seeing those fallfish and their mounds, I also fished a small, flashy game changer on a loop knot.  I saw exactly two bass, both around 12 inches, from high on a bluff, but even the sunfish were spooky as the morning got late and the sun high.  I decided to drive down closer to the confluence with the river for my final stop.  Flows were so low down there that I swear the creek was flowing backwards.  I did not rig up, nor did I hike to the scenic overlook, but I did take a mile walk (okay, a half-mile in one direction and back) in the shade to check out more of the lower stretches of the creek.  

All the way to the confluence.

By noon, I was done with my adventure.  I considered tossing my 7-weight in the main river for a while, but my day had started at 2:40 AM and I had a two hour drive home in the heat.  If I were going to wade the mighty Susquehanna alone, even with the current low flows, I should have flipped the order of things.   I took a lot of crick pics and found several legal access points, so let’s call this one homework?  I am heading up to the PAFF warmwater jamboree in early August, so I will be picking some brains of the locals and connecting with Josh again very soon.  I may have even invited myself on a float with a Centre County dude I connected with at last summer’s jam.  The rain and cool temperatures this week have me thinking about this upcoming weekend already.  I am certainly due for a good day, or at least a good morning, of fishing.

July 9, 2024 – Some Offshore Linging, I Mean Fluking, with Team Ward Aboard the Adam Bomb – Atlantic Ocean

Foggy in port and inshore.  Most of the crew.

The wind, she blows South.  The water, she stays cold.  Fluking has hardly been on fire as a result, but Wardman was on his OCNJ vacation this week, so we kept our tradition alive and tried to catch some deepwater fluke on the Adam Bomb out of Cape May.  We caught six keepers, so catch we did.  There were some shorts along the way too.  We even got a couple sea biscuits for the table.  Ward and his niece Emma started out strong and each notched a couple keepers and a sea bass early, while the rest of us mostly hit ling broadside with our 4-6 ounce bucktails and/or trailer hooks.  Like a rabbit taking an arrow, ling can take the hook it seems.  You know it’s been slow fluking when the captain was keeping fair-caught ling and singing their praises as table fare.  They are no kingfish, of that I am certain.  We will find out, as he probably snuck some filets in my share of the catch!  They are too soft for strip bait, these ling, which is usually the fate of the sea robins.  Adam is a good captain, and he may have even tried to talk Ward out of this trip.  Conditions were fine, however, so he kept the date, and we made the most of mediocre conditions by landing some fish.  It is a fun tradition that I am glad Wardman keeps going.  I grew up with Ward and Cousin Bruce, and we’ve been doing trips with Adam for a decade or more, so it is easy company with plenty of laughs and teasing along the way.

Ward sneaking ling into my share?

The boy was sort of along with us, as well.  He was seasick without tossing his breakfast last year, but he wanted to try again this year.  I give him props for that, but he was quickly feeling out of it again this year.  I don’t need Maury Povich to confirm he is my kid, as I am no seafaring pro myself.  After a long-ass boat ride in moderate seas, I heaved what was left of my Wawa the minute we arrived.  That usually is it for me: let it out and then start fishing.  Thankfully, that was the case today, as I felt good once I got it out and we started fishing.  The boy, well, he fished for a while, and then he just took a seat for the rest of the morning.  I will save myself the cash and encourage him to stay home next year!  As I mentioned, I was glad he tried again, and we still had a father/son day with the long rides in between.  It is an experience that most of his friends have never had either.  The Susquehanna later this summer is more his speed—both of our speeds.  I caught a couple keeper fluke for the box along with some shorts.  Nothing big but most fish were over 20 inches, not tail-pinch keepers.  If Ward snuck ling in my ziplock baggie, I will let you know how they taste 😉