August 29, 2019 – Camp Dad Explores the Mighty Delaware River - Northampton County

Pretty spot.

The boy and I took a scenic ride up the river towards Northampton County today.  We didn’t leave home until after 2 PM, and we stopped for late lunch/early dinner on the way.  I was hoping we could stay out and make it close to magic hour with some exploring, wet wading, and hopefully some smallmouth bass.  After rigging up a couple spinning rods, I spent a little while in the garage packing a vest with some small cranks and soft plastics.  I had the idea that a drop-shot with some of Kenny’s Fitt Premium Lures would be effective and nearly snag-resistant for the boy, so he could just cast and take care of business himself.  Before walking to the river, we first explored a little Class A creek to see if we could spot any wild browns in the high sun and low water.  I saw only one, and the boy only saw minnows and maybe some fry.  It was my fault because I stepped up to a likely spot first instead of letting the boy go ahead of me.  I remembered to give him my polarized glasses but still rushed ahead like an excited kid myself in order to spot some trout in a tiny trickle!  When things started getting too brushy, we decided to go fishing.

He bested me!

The river is low, clear, warm, and wadable.  It is also loaded with shad fry, which were jumping and feeding all over the water.  Avoiding the stench of a deer carcass, we targeted a decent hole at the mouth of the creek, before bushwhacking and rock hopping our way along about 800 yards of river to a couple spots where I figured there would be fish.  We spent a lot of time finding random flotsam (sharpie markers, a Nerf dart, salt water lures, you name it) so fishing was only part of the adventure.  At one point, the boy said, “Oh, there’s a mountain, and another one,” so I think he too noticed the beauty of this little spot!  My fishing plan lasted about 10 minutes until Lukas realized that he could cast like a hero with my rod, loaded with braid and a shallow running crankbait.  I ended up fishing the drop shot rig on copolymer line.  My hooksets sucked on long casts.  I am used to braid or the fly rod, I guess!  I dropped at least three bass after a short fight, one decent bass after a longer fight.  The boy, however, beat me by landing his bass on the crankbait.   

Not a fish day, but a good day outdoors.

After a good two hours on the water, we still hadn’t made it to the magic hour, but I had to be grateful that we lasted two hours.  We talked to another father and son in the parking lot who tried for some catfish, and they lasted about 20 minutes, according to the other dad.  There were snacks and the Nintendo Switch waiting at the car for a good ride home—and the boy is always looking for bonus time on the device.  Not a big fishing day, but a good way to spend a late summer day, the kind of day I hope my pre-teen remembers when he becomes a more sullen teen, you know?

August 24, 2019 – First Taste of Autumn or a False Fall? – SEPA

A short early shift on a perfect morning.

A cool and drizzly Friday was followed by a cool and sunny Saturday, so even though I am not much for weekend fishing, I had to sneak out this morning to get a taste of the fall weather and hopefully the happier and hungrier trout.  The boy is in an in-between time, and I am home with him, also in-between—finishing two summer classes and getting prepped for my full fall teaching load—not to mention another graduate class towards my MFA.  Summer camps have ended, school is still over a week away, and Tami is back to work as of August 1.  Add another summer heatwave that just ended, and we have the makings of my typical August fishing output.  Looking back over the blog posts, it appears that I average a whopping two trips per August, especially now that I don’t spend as much time at the shore.  There will be more to come in September, and August is hardly prime time.  Even in the great conditions this morning—air temps in the high 50’s to start, water temperatures in the Lehigh Valley dipping a couple marks under 60—the fishing window lasts all of two hours in the morning, perhaps another hour in the evening, unless one fishes the night shift.  I was tempted this week, when I noticed how long it had been since I’d been out, but fishing late into the night and playing with a boy all day while still teaching two evening classes just sounded like too much work!

Only one in the first hour.

I arrived at my destination just before 5:50 AM, so by the time I suited up, I had enough light to take a short walk followed by my first casts.  The first hour was slow, as it often is, but it was still enjoyable.  I landed one little fish and again saw the two foxes that I encountered the last time I was on this creek.  They look full grown, but they must be young siblings because they were still running side by side, making the geese nervous this morning.  Perhaps their parents have left them to their own devices now, so they are not ready to go it totally alone.  So many geese this morning!  The creek is too small to share, so they will rarely pass here, as they would on a larger creek.  To avoid a ruckus, we had to play nice.  I eventually took the courteous steps up the bank, as if to say, “Go for it,” and they took my cue and whisked on by me downstream with nary a honk, which I believe is as close to thank you as the mean-spirited goose language allows.  Still, it was like waiting for a freight train to pass.

Small, but picking up on the perdigon.

The water was normal, very clear and almost low, this morning, so as it got brighter out, and I had a better grasp of the conditions, I had to make some adjustments and use smaller bugs and tippet.  I was tempted to go back to the car and get my 8’6” 3 weight that was rigged with a dry dropper, but I stuck with my nymphing rod instead, and it all worked out eventually.  The first couple of fish took a small CDC jig, but once I started catching fish with consistency, they preferred a blue perdigon in size 16, so I tied that as my point fly for efficiency sake, putting a smaller pheasant tail on the dropper.  Tricos were present in the same spots I usually see them, but even when some spinners began to fall around 9 AM, nothing took notice on the surface.  In fact, fishing slowed to nearly nada not long after 9 AM, so the trout may not totally trust this short break from the summer heat.  At least some days in July, I can get them to eat until 10 AM!  Fish were smaller than my average here earlier in the summer, too, but I caught nothing under 8 inches, I suppose, and I landed a couple pushing 12 to 13 inches.  All were in good shape despite last week’s heat; many jumped and dashed for undercut banks with some power.  

Some decent ones showed.

After only landing the one trout in the first hour and following my adjustments, I put together a modestly productive two hours of fishing.  I was happy to be out there and happy to be catching pretty, feisty wild trout again after nearly a month without.  I could not land 11 fish, even after trying a green weenie on the dropper and even mining one of the few deep holes with a bigger jig.  Going deeper from 9 to 9:30 AM, all I got was algae on the hooks, so I had to be content with my 10 fish morning.  I was back in the driver’s seat of the ‘Ru by 10:05 and home cleaning up before 11:30 AM, so that is one upside of these early shifts.  Besides being a little tired and/caffeine up, which nixes a nap, there is still a lot of day left.  The boy and I actually took a hike along the Wissy later in the day, as it stayed breezy and below 80 degrees all afternoon.

Another healthy one.

With an Easterly or Northeasterly flow continuing, it appears that the cooler temperatures will remain in the forecast this week, so Camp Dad might get outdoors more this week than last.  The boy and I even talked about fishing one day this upcoming week.  That may be my motivation to get all my grading done on Monday and Tuesday, so I can have a brief vacation before the fall semester gets going.  Even just a little taste of fall—a teasing false fall or not—today got me excited about the end of the summer doldrums and the imminent start of one of my favorite fishing times of the year.

That little perdigon worked for a solid two hours.

August 9, 2019 – A Walk with a Fishing Rod – Wissahickon Creek

Gutsy moves.

Not that I had any major plans in mind, but fishing this week was made nearly impossible because I am doing drop off and pick up for the boy’s summer camp.  He is only participating for a couple weeks, and then it is back to camp Dad (or Mom if he goes to work with Tami).  Valley is too warm for my liking right now, so I decided to take advantage of a break in the humidity and rain to walk the Wissy near my house.  I have some decent smallmouth bass spots deeper in the City, but today I did some prospecting in an area that I trout fished a lot as a kid and which always looks fishy.  I walked this particular area on Monday this week and watched some little bass set up and sipping midges.  I figured that the little guys came from something bigger, so I made a mental note to give this area a shot if I needed a quickie close to home this summer.  Today was the day.  I was hoping for more clouds than sun, but that did not happen.  I did catch a few small fish in the first hour to ninety minutes, however. 

It was good while the shade lasted.

The water was stained and had good flows for this time of year.  Before the sun got too high, I found some eager sunfish and small bass in the shaded riffles and tight to the banks.  I even got a couple sunfish on a topwater slider/popper.  I fished a popper/dropper for about thirty minutes, too, when the streamer bite all but died.  I did see a few lethargic bass come out to investigate, but it was around high noon, so that was all they did, investigate.  On the walk back to the parking lot, I threw a larger streamer, a hail mary, I guess, and I actually moved a hold-over trout.  I would expect a few would live through this wet summer, but I did not expect one to have enough vitality right now to move towards a streamer.  Not surprisingly, he did not move again.

They are in there, but the larger ones are smarter than these fellas.

I may have to sneak out very early on Sunday morning for a short trip.  I am jonesing a little if you can’t tell.  The cooler temps at night and the rain storms that preceded them may give me a short window with which to play.  I know the lows were in the low 60’s in the Poconos last night and that will likely continue tonight, but I will probably check out a Lehigh Valley limestoner or two instead to minimize the drive and maximize the fishing time.  I say I will fish the tricos, but you and I both know darn well that if the flows are good, I will be nymphing the riffles and runs…

Brave subsurface too.

July 31, 2019 – Take a Look, It’s in a Book – Laurel Highlands of PA Adventure

The iconic shot.

The family and I went west for a few days this week, visiting the Laurel Highlands of Southwestern PA.  Tami has always wanted to see the Frank Lloyd Wright house on Bear Run, so she booked a few days in an Airbnb in the Seven Springs Resort for a little family vacation before she goes back to work this week and the boy has to enroll in “Camp Dad” for a couple weeks before he goes to real camp.  Our last hurrah this summer as a family was a good time.  Fallingwater was impressive, all the more so with a tour guide who was cross-trained to do a tour of the art within the home too.  I surely took enough art history classes in undergrad to count as a minor had I thought to declare such a thing, so I was in art nerd heaven.  Like me, Tami loves the woods and Wright’s philosophy of living in and with nature, so she too was overwhelmed with the beauty of the place.  The boy, I think he enjoyed it too.  What’s not to like about a house with a waterfall and a creek running under it, plus a snack bar and gift shop onsite?

Living the hillbilly high life!

We also visited Ohiopyle on Monday at the height of hillbilly high life season.   I wanted to show the boy and perhaps take part in the natural water slides I had read about, and I wanted to see the mighty Yough.  I did not realize that midday on a summer day in Ohiopyle would be like visiting Wildwood, NJ.  We did get to see the Youghiogheny River and the have ice cream at the general store, even drove up to scope out another Wright home on Kentuck Knob for another visit another time, but we had had enough of all the people by 3 PM, so we did not drive to Confluence or any other nearby spots.  I prefer my nature without the crowds.  Let’s just say Ohiopyle is a well utilized public resource, ground zero for many overlapping outdoor pursuits.

Alpine slide, boy.

It was convenient to stay within the Seven Springs resort, however, as we spent Tuesday within a mile of the place, riding a chairlift, running down the alpine slide a few times, playing mini-golf, and so on.  We had a nearly private pool in the condo development and views of the stars from atop the ski slopes out our back deck.  The resort is full of ponds and lakes stocked with fish, but I didn’t feel like paying for the boy to catch sunfish when so many state parks were around.  I also had a terrible experience with the Orvis shop in the resort.  Dude wanted no parts of talking fishing or conditions on any body of water outside of the resort.  He seemed miffed that I wouldn’t know to go to the outfitter that offers clay shooting at the other end of the resort instead of a fly shop for information.  I think I just asked about water temperatures in some of the nearby freestoner, and we were the only people in the shop.  Needless to say, even if the boy wanted to fish, I was not buying a daily pass from this mitch.  This was not a fishing vacation, so I didn’t do much planning around fishing, but I was in a new region with a lot of fishing possibilities, so I had to go fishing at least one day.  I brought along the Keystone Fly Fishing book to help me wing something if conditions at the end of July warranted a short fishing trip with or without the boy, warmwater or cold-. 

Some small stream sneaking in late July.

Instead of going with big water, I found a nearby spot that I could hike into and possibly find some holdovers and wild fish.  There were thunderstorms throughout the day on Tuesday, and some more violent storms woke me up in the night.  I remember thinking that a bit more water may be a good thing—but not too much please!  We were leaving today, so I got up early and drove to a cold water tributary of Laurel Hill Creek very early this morning.  Perhaps fueled by fears of Ohiopyle-sized crowds, I arrived at 5:30 AM, so under the canopy of trees, it was nearly dark when I started the one mile hike up along the creek.  Since it was too dark to fish yet, I just hiked up to a dam, itself sort of a design marvel, scouting the creek along the way and enjoying the cool yet humid conditions, the rushing of the creek, the water dripping from the lush trees, the reanimated mountain rivulets flushing the surrounding woods. 

Another man-made natural wonder.

When I reached the dam, sort of the end of the line for any coolwater fishing, I took advantage of the additional light that the clearing above the small pond behind the dam provided and made my first casts.  I had on small bugs, a size 16 frenchie as my anchor fly and a smaller caddis pupa on the dropper.  I expected to find a few fish home in the hole and wash below the dam, but I was really happy to land at least seven fish here.  I started out with some stocked browns and brookies, but I ended with a pair of browns that looked wild.  I even dropped a brookie that was under 4 inches long, so I was now pretty excited to work some of the pocket water and riffles I had passed on the hike upstream. 

Some fish before sunrise.

The Keystone book said the creek held over fish each year and also had wild and natives in the watershed, but knowing how wet it’s been and how the creeks close to home have benefited from the rains, I was expecting to find a few more fish than a normal year if water temperatures were still okay.  Thankfully, I was very right!  I only fished for about 2.5 hours with all the walking, but I lost count after a dozen fish.  I ended the morning with about 15 or 16 fish, which is pretty fun on a new piece of water.  Once I had landed all those fish at the first spot, some before the official sunrise time, I was content to hunt for them in tougher spots downstream even if they were not there.  Although I had a hunch, I was still grateful that there were fish in most of the little plunge pools and deeper runs, especially the ones farther from my parking spot.  As is often the case, the further from access points, the better the fishing, especially on public land.

The longtime residents noticed the early caddis hatch and took small bugs on the dropper tag.

While releasing the first few stocked fish, I began to notice a caddis hatch and began to notice a few fish noticing the caddis too.  One fish that rose ended up being the little brookie I mentioned above, but I also targeted and landed two really pretty, likely wild browns before I left the first hole.  I hiked downstream to a small footbridge below a long set of deeper riffles, and I began to work every little spot as I moved slowly upstream.  I was holding my 10 foot 3 weight, so I was doing a lot of bow and arrow casting, but I did catch a good number of fish in this stretch as well.  A couple of the browns were fat and colorful, even parred up, and could have been multi-year holdovers if not wild fish, but a few more were definitely wild too.

Parred up plumper.

Even with the rain overnight, the creek was small and shallow.  It was also beginning to clear up as the sun rose higher.  For July 31 on a freestone creek, however, conditions were rather good.  The water was not even 64 degrees.  To support the fact that this creek stays cold year round, in addition to the wild and likely holdover browns, I found a handful of brookies, none over 7 inches long, but fun to catch.  The water was getting skinnier and narrower.  With a dry dropper, I would have fished a few spots differently, but I was content to target the high percentage heads and plunges of the pools, eventually changing tactics and moving pretty quickly to the better spots I could spy up ahead, perhaps maximizing my time too.  We had to check out at 11 AM, and I had to contribute to the cleaning list and the load out before that too, so while I was relaxed and having fun, I also knew that I had a 15 minute hike back, provided I didn’t make a wrong turn anywhere.  The trail was well marked, so that did not prove to be a problem, but I had made the initial hike in false dawn conditions. 

Cold water confirmation.

Now that it was getting brighter, I stopped to take a few creek pictures and take in the scenery.  If we return to this area, I would certainly take the boy on a hike and wet wading experience along this creek.  The trails were well-maintained and easy to hike, so even Tami’s knees would not suffer too much here.  The nicest thing was seeing almost the entire riparian buffer intact and no dog beaches or even litter of any kind.  The only footprints I saw on the path were my own today, too, so my fears of Ohiopyle crowds were unfounded.  This little creek was not as sexy as the mighty Yough or Casselman, certainly not as exciting as the water slides of Meadow Run, but it was what I needed today, a quiet, beautiful place away from the summertime crowds.  Even just a few fish would have been perfect.

Some sunlight to show off the colors finally.

I found a few more fish, wild, native, and holdover, in the last set of runs I fished, but conditions were changing.  The bottom was sandier with more down timber, and deeper water seemed harder to find.  I decided to take a walk towards the car and then, after checking the time, decide if a short downstream hike was worth my while.  When I reached the car it was 8:45 AM, so I decided to call it a morning.  I took my time and broke down my rod for the drive home to Philly.  I even took another water temp reading while I was taking off my waders and packing them up for the long drive home.  The water, even at the parking lot, was still under 65, so I felt lucky to get in a very productive small stream trout fishing day on the final day of July and the final day of our mini vacation. 

Another small stream plumper in some sunlight.

I remember having mixed feelings about the Keystone book when it came out because it shared some carefully guarded secrets about some of my favorite creeks and shared information it took many of us years to acquire.  However, I also saw the value of the resource when visiting a new region of the state and trusted the accuracy of the info because the streams I knew already were covered accurately.  I am still of the mind that too much purely logistical information is covered in sometimes minute detail, but since the grump at the Orvis shop was useless, I was glad I brought the book with me this week.  Without it, I may have been chasing pay to play sunfish or atrophied spring stockers instead of having a fun adventure in the Laurel Highlands.  

Just the escape I needed before a 4 hour car ride home.

July 25, 2019 – Cooler Temps, Better Flows, Good Morning, Even Pictures – Northampton County Limestoner

Still going...

After the last round of rain—just rain not the seemingly endless line of evening thunderstorms—the overnight temperatures dropped for a couple nights in a row.  I was ready to swear off trout after the last heat wave, but the prior couple of days found me mulling over possibilities.  It is a short break until hot weather returns this weekend and still a short early morning window, but a pair of 60 degree overnights was encouraging.  During my walk in Center City to my car tonight the air still felt less humid and crisper even though it reached the high 80s this afternoon.  I was up late after class last night, and was wide awake at 3 AM this morning, so I stayed up, got dressed, made coffee, and packed the car for a relatively short ride.  I arrived at the creek before 5:30 AM, so I was about 20 minutes early for sunrise, but there was enough gray light to suit up and take a walk downstream to some pocket water and runs I had in mind.  The water was up, probably pushing 30 to 50 more than normal, but even in the gray light, I could pick out rocks in the riffles.  Daylight would prove that the visibility was good for nymphing even if the flows added a new challenge or slightly changed the places fish would be hanging.

Some color and higher flows.

Before I ducked through spider webs and stepped through the muddy post-flood debris to enter the creek, I caught the attention of two foxes that were either sparring or courting.  They were too big to be kits, maybe last year’s young, but they were feisty and curious.  I bet they don’t see many people without dogs at this early hour.  They eventually spooked, but not as quickly as the typical fox.  I quickly worked this pocket water and a couple runs and only landed one little wild brown and lost another slightly better fish.  I just kept moving, confident that the magic hours of 7 to 9 or 9:30 AM would eventually pay off.  Even though water was moving, I could see and was getting good drifts, so I remained confident that something would happen before quitting time. When I reached my parking spot again, I had one more fish to show for the effort, so I spent some time in deeper water for about 30 minutes and finally landed a couple of nice fish in the 12 to 13 inch range. 

Some decent and feisty fish in the mix, maybe 5 out of 12.

These better fish fought really well and used the heavier current to their advantage.  I remembered to keep my legs closed to avoid one of them shooting behind me in the waist deep water, and I was happy to have the bigger net.  After touching base with Tami at home and promising to quit around 9:30 AM so she could go to an appointment without leaving the boy home alone for too long, I took note of the 7:30 AM time.  For the next two hours, I had a steady pick of fish in riffles and pocket water.  I landed the vast majority, but I did drop a few little ones and one that felt decent.  By the time I reached a logical place to quit and turn back, I had counted an even dozen fish in the net.  

A pretty and solid average for the morning.

Nothing really big, but along with the 8 to 10 inchers, I landed a handful of respectable and hard fighting fish for the third week of July.  A couple took a small caddis on the dropper, and with the tricos in the air, with lower flows I am sure other small bugs would have worked, but I had to use a pair of heavier and larger pheasant tail and Frenchie combos to get down to the fish.  The reliable pink tag fly on a jig hook accounted for most of the fish, but a Frenchie with a gold hot spot did well too.  Quitting time came a bit early, especially since I caught 2 or 3 fish at my last spot, but rush hour was winding down, so I left for home before 9:40 AM and was having breakfast with the boy by 10:45 AM.  We are heading towards the Laurel Highlands this weekend, and I am packing a rod or two in case opportunity presents itself again.  Even throwing a streamer for smallmouth is a possibility if conditions seem too hot for trout.

Didn't drop the old phone today, so I can end with some more pictures!

July 19, 2019 – Phoneless, so therefore Camera-less, but not Fishless (Eventually) – SEPA

Cold stained water for Ron.  Ended up being the only successful photo of the day, too.

I am about due, perhaps overdue, for a new cellphone.  I may have gotten the motivation to shop that I needed today, too.  My morning began with a dead phone on the charger at 4 AM.  I plugged it in to charge before I went to bed a little after 11 PM last night, but instead of charging up it discharged, just one of many little annoyances the device has presented in the last month or more (a lot of blurry pictures too).  Good times.  I had decided to take about an hour ride towards the Bushkill, which was high but dropping, so I figured I could charge it up on the ride north.  If the Bushkill was not happening, I knew I could visit Bethlehem before it got too hot.  I wanted to quit by 10 AM at the latest today because of the excessive heat warnings in the forecast.  Even the creeks that have been low 60’s would likely spike today, but the rivers were flooded out, and I did not have the time or energy to take a longer ride to the beach or something more adventurous.  Well, the ride to the first creek gave me about 30 percent of a charge by the time I arrived.  Power saving mode and hope for the best.  The creek was more stained than I would have liked even though it was fishable and wadable.  Since I took the phone out to try and capture a photo of a mink along the bank across from me, I also managed to get one good creek picture, which opens this post.  Not long after, I also managed to drop my 30% charged phone in the water!  Again, good times.  It seemed okay, but about an hour later, it was at 2% charge and then shut itself off.  No big deal since the Bushkill was not happening for this guy today. 

Artist's rendering....

I tried both nymphing a pair of bugs and also high sticking a black leech to see if a streamer bite might happen before I quit the Bushkill.  Fishless.  When I got back to the car, I tried to charge the phone, but it was acting squirrely, so I ended up taking it apart and removing the battery to let everything dry when I arrived at the Saucon for a short round two.   Phoneless.  Camera-less.  Murphy’s Law would say I would land a 20 today on Saucon, but while I caught fish that did not happen.  The flow and clarity were better here; there were even some tricos hatching.  I quickly caught three small wild browns, probably 9 to 10 inchers, while nymphing a run with some decent visibility.  I tried a weenie on the dropper and tucking the flies up in the softer water by the bank too, but the first 4 fish I caught all hit a pink tag fly, about a size 14 on a jig hook.  At least one of the first 4 fish took the bug on the swing, too, so I started letting the drift go longer and ended up getting another on the swing and a couple chasing the bug to the surface and missing or refusing.  After that, I decided to clip off the weenie and add something caddis-like.  I hooked three good fish and landed two of them on this caddis dropper.  Both that I landed were hot hold-over rainbows about 14 inches, so I will let myself believe that the third was also a rainbow.  When the third good fish came off, the flies ended up in a tree behind me out of reach.  It was after 10 AM and already hot.  I was also hungry, tired, probably thirsty, so I snagged again a few minutes later.  Diminishing returns, yo.  Since fishing was decent, though, I had to retie one more time, and I did land another wild brown about 11 inches on the tag fly in the last riffle I targeted before crossing the creek and taking a worn path back to the car.  Sorry, no fish pics, but I was happy to catch some trout, maybe 8, in my last hour of the morning, especially after that trying first stop.  My other plan worked too, as the reassembled phone did take a charge on the way home.  Nevertheless, I will still be shopping for a new one this weekend, as it will be too hot to fish anywhere but the beach (at night), anyway!