Lake-Run Samllies

I hit the Grand River today and fished for a few hours this morning.  I was hopping to catch some lake-run small mouth bass.  The lake-run bass are bass that live in the lake and move into the rivers just to spawn.  These fish are much larger than the resident small mouth bass that spend their whole lives in the river.  Lake Erie is known to be one of the best small mouth bass fisheries in the world.  This offers the river angler a chance at catching a trophy class small mouth… and these fish will readily take a fly.  So I was out there in search of a trophy small mouth.  I got to the river at about 6:45am.  I quickly had my first hook up, a nice sized rock bass.  Perhaps, the largest rock bass I’ve every caught.  A little while later I hooked into a nice sized fish and it fought like it could be a smallie, but it was not.  It turned out to be a good sized white bass, in fact, the first white bass I’ve ever caught.  I continued fishing and caught a few more white bass, all smaller than the first one I caught.  I’m wondering why I can’t entice any small mouth.  Are they on the redds and not biting?  I continued to fish and worked it hard.  I hooked up in a boulder strewn run and the fish leaps out of the water and tail dances across the surface of the water; it was a huge small mouth bass!!!  My first lake run fish ever and boy was it big compared to the resident fish I am used to catching.  I took some pics and released the fish to spawn a new generation of these wild native fish.  I kept on fishing as I had about a half hour before I was going to leave and I hooked into another lake-run smallie.  I was on the water for about 4 hours and I caught 6 or 7 fish (I can’t remember if I caught 3 or 4 white bass).  It was a good day on the water and I got my first lake-run bass.  I caught all these fish stripping clouser minnows in white and chartreuse and in black.     

           

Central PA, Part II: Spring Creek

Tuesday morning I woke up at 6:30, packed the car and checked out of the hotel. I headed over to Spring Creek using a hand drawn map that the guy in the fly shop drew for me the day before to help me find my way. There was an article in Eastern Fly Fishing magazine that talked about fishing Spring Creek. I decided to go fish the area where the guy who wrote the article went to fish, an area known as Fisherman’s Paradise. The paradise area, called the project, is a no wading section maintained by the State which sits across from a state fish hatchery.

The stream is a beautiful spring fed creek with sexy riffles, pocket water, and short shallow runs. This is the kind of tout stream that dreams are made of. The State of Pennsylvania has classified Spring Creek as a Class A trout stream, which means the water is clean and the fish are wild.

Wild trout are much more cunning and difficult to catch than stocked trout. I walked up river a bit, to where I thought I could begin wading. I fished a nice riffle where I saw a fish rise on the far side of the stream. I tied on a simple fly, which I tied the night before I left, that was known to be productive on Spring Creek called Walt’s Worm (recommended by the article). I caught a fish right away on Walt’s Worm. I continued to fish this section catching two more fish and losing a couple more. Both of these fish were caught on an olive scud pattern (tiny fresh water shrimp). I began to move up stream and had a couple of more hook ups in the skinny water, but lost the fish. As I moved up stream I continued to spook fish that were resting in the slow shallow water at the edge of the bank.

                                                       First tout of the day on Walt's Worm

                                                                 This fish went for the scud pattern
I continued to fish up stream when a park ranger stopped to tell me I was wading in the no wading section. Oops! After apologizing to the ranger, he told me where I could begin wading. So I waked up river to where there was a wood sign that stated that wading was permitted past that point. The river in the section where you could begin to wade was slow and flat. It seemed like the State left the crappy water for wading fisherman. I fished a slow, slow run that was worthless and decided to continue up river. I turned the bend and found a beautiful wild looking trout stream with many excellent riffles and runs in succession. I fished up river through each riffle and run to the next. I spooked many more fish in the process. These wild brownies were quite easily spooked and weary of the fly. The fishing was defiantly better earlier. I was beginning to think I may not catch any more fish before I was going to leave at noon or so. I had about another 45 minutes to fish and I was getting near the end of the nice section of water where the river turned slow again. I thought to my self, it has to be here or it’s not going to be since I didn’t have the time to walk further up river. I was at the second last set of riffles, but they were much sexier looking than the last set. I just had a feeling about this spot. I fished the riffle on river right, nothing. I really expected a fish there. The way I was looking at it the riffle on river left was the end of it. I fished from the bottom of the run up into the white water at the head of the rifle and there was nobody home. I decided to give the far side of the head of the riffle, closest to the bank, a drift or two before moving up to fish the last riffle (which I had little faith in). BAM, fish on!! I hooked a beautiful brownie that leaped out of the water the way you hope a trout will jump. It went on a strong run ripping line off the reel making the drag scream. I wrangled the fish in and bagged this trout for a pic. It was a beautiful 14” wild brownie. I got a great pic of this fish.

                                                                  14" brownie
For me this was the trophy fish of the trip. It may have been of the largest fish of the trip, but it was definitely the largest wild fish I caught on this trip. It began to rain and it was about time to go so I headed back to the car. I saw an angler getting geared up in the parking lot; I stopped to talk to him. He was from nearby in Milesburg, but he moved away and now lived in New Jersey. He mentioned another creek near Milesburg that I’ll have to check out next time. I geared down, packed the car and headed for I-80 to get home in time for a work related dinner event. As I drove the rain turned to snow and traffic got slow. The snow had fallen about an inch think at the highest point in the mountains (actually the highest elevation East of the Mississippi at 2250 feet above sea level).

                                                                 Snow in May!!
The drive took about an hour longer than it should have so I had to drive straight to dinner, but I made it on time. I was wearing jeans, flip flops and a base ball cap, not to mention, I hadn’t shaved in days; I was hardly prepared for a work event, but I made it. My trip was over and it was awesome. I am so glad I took my buddy’s advice and just went!

Central PA Part I: Penn’s Creek

Central Pennsylvania is famous for its wild brown trout and prolific hatches.  The storied waters of Penn’s Creek, Spring Creek, the Little Juniata, and other streams around State College are considered to offer some of the best trout fishing in the East.   I decided to make the drive and fish for a couple of days.

I had originally booked a guide for this trip.  The week before I was scheduled to go out with the guide I got notice that he had to cancel the trip due to the death of a close family friend’s wife.  The funeral and viewing were the same day I was supposed to have my guided trip.  I understood the circumstances and we tried to reschedule, but we couldn’t coordinate a date for another trip.  A guide friend of mine told me he and his friends were going to be on Penn’s Creek from Sunday to Wednesday.  He urged me to go if I could.  He said “you should always go, just go (fishing)”.  He also told me where to find some good water.  I already had a hotel room in State College and was planning to take the time off of work anyhow, so… I took his advice and just decided to head out on my own. 

I got up early on Monday morning, packed the car and was on the road by 7:45.  I arrived in Coburn, PA located on Penn’s Creek at about 12:30.  There is a fly shop in Coburn which is why I stopped there.  I wanted to find out where I should fish and get the right flies.  Locally tied flies are best because the same bugs can vary in size and color from one watershed to another.  For example, the crain flies on Pens Creek are brown and the crain flies on Spring Creek are white.  A subtle detail like that can mean the difference between a great day on the water and bag full of skunks.  I bought some flies and a dry fly box (with compartments) and got directions to some good places to fish on both Pens Creek and Spring Creek.  I was planning to fish Pens all afternoon and evening and Spring Creek in the morning before I left town.  The guys at the fly shop were knowledgeable and helpful.  I bought each life stage (nymph, emerger, dun and spinner) for sulfurs and mMarchbrowns.  I also got a couple of crain flies and scuds (tiny fresh water shrimp).  The guys at the fly shop suggested I would need a wading staff.  I looked at what they had to offer and thought about buying the cheap one, a tree branch fashioned into a staff with a rope to tie to your wading belt.  $20.00 for a stick… I couldn’t do it.  I was going to a state forest, I figured I could pick up a stick and use some rope I had in the car; it wasn’t worth the money. 

Armed with the right flies and directions I headed to the river.  While I had some typed directions on a handout from the fly shop, the map of the area I had lacked important details.  I drove off down river along a road that ran parallel to the water.  I was paying more attention to the water than the road and got lost.  I was turned around and decided to ask a local for directions.  As it turned out I was on the wrong side of the mountain.  I turned around and headed for the road that went over the mountain.

I found the road I was looking for and headed up the mountain.  It quickly went from a paved road to a gravel road that twisted and turned up the mountain.  The ride over the mountain was a beautiful, but a little scary as the road was narrow, steep and didn’t have guard rails at the turns.  If you went off the road, you went down the mountain.  I finally found the park I was looking for.  I parked the car geared up and decided to head for some sexy looking pocket water near the campground parking lot since it was right there.  I had spent the last five hours in the car and had gotten lost; I just wanted to fish.  I didn’t want to walk to the “good water” my buddy suggested to me in Cleveland.  So I walked down to the river near the parking lot and made my first cast.

I worked my way down river and hooked up right away.  I lost the fish, but I thought this was a good sign (dejavoux?).  I continued to fish down and had a second hook up and again I lost the fish.  There were definitely fish in the water and they were hitting my flies, but I could put one in my net. I saw a perfect looking pocket that I just knew held a trout.  If I were a trout, that’s where I would be.  I passed up some inside water in favor of this pocket.  I drifted my fly into the pocket and I had a solid hook up, I had a fish on.  It ran down stream, jumped a few times, and then dove under a rock.  I had to work the fish out from under the rock carefully so I wouldn’t break it off.  It took some finesse, but I got the fish out and into the net.  The fish was caught on a March brown nymph.  I caught this first fish in the first ten minutes and had two other hook ups.  I figured this was good water.  I fished through the rest of the pocket water near the parking lot with no other hookups.

It was time to head to the good water my guide friend suggested.  I had to walk up the mountain about a half mile to an old railroad bridge and railroad tunnel.  The state has turned the old bridge and tunnel into a walking trail over the river and through the mountain to the sections of Pens Creek on far side of the mountain.  The water under the bridge had a nice riffle and run into a good pool on the down river side of the bridge.  The air was full of sulfurs.  I didn’t see any fish rising so I fished the riffle and run with nymphs.  I had no luck so I packed it up and walked on through the tunnel.

I got to the far side of the mountain and began to walk down to the river.  I saw another angler crossing the river; he looked like my friend so I walked on down to say hello.  It turned out to be some guy from Jersey and not my buddy; I was unable to tell from a distance.  I talked to the guy from Jersey for a moment.  He was nice enough to tell me a little about the water up river.  He pointed out where the special regulation area began (defined by a wire stretched across the river).  I walked down and began fishing from there.

I worked down from the wire through some fast pocket water and riffles.  I didn’t have any action so I decided to walk down stream to see what the water looked like and get a lay of the land so I knew where to be in a couple hours as darkness set in.  After the riffled pocket water was a long slow pool. The pool had a nice rocky bottom.  I figured this would be a good area at dark.  I walked back up to the pocket water and fished the water I had walked by earlier going upstream.  I hooked up with a decent brownie in a nice deep pocket.  I hooked this fish on a sulphur nymph.  I fished up stream for a while with no more action.

As dusk began to approach I switched leaders and tied on a sulphur dun with a sulphur emerger as a dropper.  I walked down to the pool I scouted earlier in the afternoon and found a few other anglers and basically no fish rising (only one or two her and there).  I was a disappointed that this pool was void of rising fish.  I really expected it to be “boiling” with risers.  I walked back up stream thinking I’d go back through the tunnel to the bridge where I saw all the sulphurs in the air before.  As I was walking back I saw a fish rise here and there.  A couple of times I got in the water to cast at the rising fish while I was walking back towards the tunnel to get to the other side of the mountain where the bridge was.  One of the risers I decided to cast at jumped out of the water between my drifts, it was huge!  I continued to cast at this fish, but it stopped rising.  I think I put it down so I moved on.  I crossed the river to get to the tunnel, I climbed the hill and there was no tunnel where it should have been.  I walked back down to the stream and looked around and headed up river a bit, then down river a bit; I couldn’t find the tunnel!  It was just before dark and I was lost!  I kept my cool, I saw a cabin so I walked over to it to see if I could get some direction, but no one was home.  I looked around and then at the map.  I realized I must have walked too far up stream from the special regs section before I crossed to look for the tunnel.  I walked back down stream past the area I had just fished for the big riser and found the special reg wire; I crossed the river and headed up the hill to find the tunnel.  Boy was I relieved when I found that tunnel.  As I came out on the other side, it had gotten pretty dark.  There were only 5-10 more minutes to fish before it got too dark.  I saw a couple of fish rising down stream of the bridge and got in the water to cast at them.  I hit a drop off and went in up to my chest, uncomfortable close to the top of my waders.  I moved up river to a more shallow position from which to cast at these fish.  I made a few casts with no luck at all.  It was now too dark to see my line.  I pulled out the head lamp and packed up to walk back to the car.

I made the long walk down the mountain to the parking lot and geared down.  I drove back the way I came which was tough in the dark, but I made it back to State College in about an hour.  I drove into town and had no idea where the hotel was.  I stopped at a Sheetz station and asked.  The people at the gas station were worthless and weren’t able to offer me any direction.  I called the hotel and they were able to direct me.  I was on the right street, but I was on the South East side of town and the hotel was on the North West side of town.  I had to drive al the way through to get there.  I stopped across from the Penn State campus to get a sub from Subway before continuing on to the hotel.  I arrived and checked in.  The hotel had a beverage store in the hotel office so I bought a 22oz Heineken beer.  I got into my room ate my dinner and washed it down with the beer.  I looked over the map to decide where on Spring Creek to fish the next day and then slipped into bed at about mid-night.                      

Oil Creek

I went to Titusville, PA for a day of fishing on Oil Creek. The name of the game was tiny nymphs and dry flies. Blue wing olives, crane flies and cadis were all on the water yesterday. This is my second dry fly fishing experience ever. The first was on the Blue River in Colorado, and it was my first time fly fishing ever. Needless to say, I had no idea what I was doing at the time.

Yesterday, I did well nymphing, but I’m still not very good fishing dry flies. I have a lot of practice nymphing from steelheading and drifting crayfish patterns for small mouth. I just had to downsize the nymphs and split shot as well as kick the indicator. I was able to adapt to the changes in nymphing technique pretty quickly and hooked up right away. I tied my own leaders (for the first time) and I had to alter the length of the tippet until the leader preformed properly; it was a trial an error process. The small tippet and tiny flies were a challenge to deal with. The tippet is light and breaks easily making knot tying difficult as I am used to heavier tippet so I really crank on my knots to make sure they are solid.

When I arrived in Titusville, I went straight to Oil Creek Outfitters to get the scoop on the hatch and to purchase some flies and floatant. Mike at Oil Creek Outfitters was kind enough to point me to a section of the creek where the fishing has been hot lately. I filled my fly box and I was off to the creek. When I arrived, there were about a half a dozen other anglers near the access point, I fished around them until I worked my way below them and walked to a secluded spot where I had the river to myself.

I hooked up with a nice brown in a run that was within eye shot of the parking lot. Even though I lost the fish, I thought to myself, this is going to be a good day! Things slowed down from there. I fished down and around the bend with no luck; I walked down past the couple of anglers who were fishing below me. I stopped to have lunch in a shaded spot on the bank. It was right near the walking trail that ran alongside the stream. The Park Service had placed some old oil pumping equipment trail side for since it is Oil Creek. I thought it was kind of cool (I should have taken a picture).

After a nice streamside lunch, I continued walking through a stretch of water that held no fish as it was about 3 inches deep. The next hook up I had was after lunch on the secluded stretch of water I found way down river. I lost both of those fish. I don’t know if I was not setting the hook properly or if it was just the tiny flies. Either way, after losing the second fish (which seemed to be a rainbow) I was beginning to get a little down.

I walked back up stream to a nice riffle I had fished on the way down, the sun had moved and this section was now in the shade. I hoped that the shade would make the fish feel a little more comfortable and they would feed more actively. I fished from the bottom to the top of the riffle, just below the top I hooked up. Just after I set the hook, out of the water leaped a beautiful rainbow trout! It was a perfect specimen and fought with all the grit rainbows are known for. I finally put the fish in the net and got a couple of nice pictures. After putting the fish in the net, I let out an “ALL RIGHT”, out loud. I was very happy to finally land a fish and get the skunk off my back. I worked the rest of this riffle and the water above it with no more hook ups.

I walked upstream to an area near the parking lot that the guy at the fly shop said was loaded with fish and I noticed a bunch of fish rising in the mid section of the pool. I switched leaders and tied on a small BWO and a nymph dropper, loaded it up with floatant and let it rip. I struggled with the dry fly presentation. I couldn’t land the fly where I wanted and I couldn’t see the tiny little fly among all the junk floating on the water. The BWO was too “natural” looking to track visually from a distance; it just blended in. I switched to a Griffith’s Gnat pattern that had a touch of red so it could be seen from a distance. The guy at the fly shop called it “the old man’s gnat” because of the red. I rigged it with a tiny midge nymph as a dropper. I hooked two fish on the gnat rig. I actually saw the first fish take the dry fly. As the fish rose to take the fly, it pushed the surface of the water up forming a bump in the surface before the water tension broke and the fish breached the surface to take the fly. I saw it plain as day and it seemed to happen in slow motion. It was a really neat experience. I had the fish on for a minute before it threw the hook. While it was disappointing to lose the fish, it is so cool to see the fish sip the fly off the surface. I would say that is among the best experiences fly fishing has to offer. I hooked the second fish on the gnat rig after dusk; it was too dark to see the fly. I saw the ripple from the rise, but that was it. The only way I knew I had a fish on was from the tug on the end of my line.

I continued to fish for a few more minutes until I saw lighting off in the distance, and heard the first crack of thunder. That meant it was time to pack it in and get to the car. If not for the approaching storm, I could have stayed and fished for another 10-15 minutes before it would have been too dark to fish. I packed up the car and headed for home. The first drops of rain hit the car as I was driving up hill out of the river valley. It was a great first time trip to Oil Creek. I caught a fish, hooked a bunch more, the weather was nice and I had the best spot on the water to myself as the risers began to feed from the surface. I was glad I made the trip.