Near Water

 

Near Water

11/20/24

                                         “Just drop me off near water.”

My friend had an appointment to get his motor home serviced at the Mercedes dealer in State College Tuesday. He needed someone to follow him down being it may take a day or two to get it repaired. I told him I would follow him on one condition, he lets me fish while we’re down there.

He is a sales representative for Triple S Sporting Supplies. He told me while we’re down there he has 4 or 5 sporting good stores he plans on visiting. He said that dropping me off somewhere to fish wasn’t a problem. He made reservations in a hotel in Altoona. The Little J River wasn’t that far so I was kind of excited.

After we dropped off the RV on Tuesday we checked into the hotel. It was late in the afternoon so I stuck with him while he visited the sport shops. After that we got something to eat and spent some time at a brewery. 

 

  Wednesday Morning he was on his computer and making phone calls making sure the owners were going to be at the shops he planned on visiting. I went and got some hotel breakfast while he was working. It was a gloomy morning that looked like possible rain North of us. I took the time to switch my fly gear to my rain jacket while waiting for him. By the time we got going it was near 9:00am.

  We hadn’t had any rain for weeks and I knew the water level of the river would be low. I hadn’t fished for quite a few weeks because I’ve been hunting and the weather wasn’t all that great. I was just excited to get out.

  He was going to head South of Altoona to visit the sporting good shops. The Frankstown Branch of the Juniata wasn’t very far from where we were staying. Though I knew that Spruce Creek or the Little J would be a more productive place to fish it was North of us and I didn’t, neither did he, want to travel in that direction. We looked at the map and found a section of the Frankstown Branch that was on his way. I had never fished that section nor did we know the water conditions. I just told him, as we drove, “Just drop me off near water!”

  Along the road we pulled over and I went down to the branch. The water was pretty shallow but there were some riffling water that maybe some trout were holding in. It looked good enough for me and I went up to the car and got my gear on. I assembled my 5 weight 9’ fly rod and grabbed a couple of cigars. He told me he’ll be back in a couple of hours to pick me up to go get the RV. He took off and I walked along the road, up stream, until I found a path through the overgrown brush to the stream.

  Down at the stream I threaded the fly line threw the rod eyes and attached a Woolly Bugger. Because of the shallow water, that was no more than shin deep, I didn’t expect to catch anything. I lit up a cigar and took my time casting across the narrow stream and letting the bugger drift. I guess it was more practice casting and not expecting any hook ups. Kind of like a golfer going to the driving range. He isn’t going to hit 9 or 18 holes but just practice his swing to keep in shape. Besides, I was alone enjoying a cigar on a trout stream.

  Down stream, after the shallow riffles, the water got somewhat deeper but slower current. A small stream also entered the main flow but I wasn’t sure if it was the same branch that happen to split upstream of the island or was a smaller creek entering. The bugger or Triple Threat streamer I was using wasn’t being helpful. I tied on a small wet fly and had the same results. By now the sun was overhead shining down on the gin clear water. Maybe any trout in the hole might have seen me or there may of not been any. I wasn’t upset though. In fact it was just a joy of a chance to get out.

  I knotted on a small bead head flashback and started to cast upstream into the riffles of the narrower stream. I only had a single nymph on figuring I would get snagged on the bottom should I use a tandem set up. I was holding the rod pretty much level with the flow and keeping it swinging with the flow watching my leader. On one cast upstream, as I was watching my leader, the line straightened. I quickly jerked the rod back and felt a little resistance. Then the line started to quiver with a small fish on the other end. I kept the line tight. That small trout was no match for the 5 weight as I brought him to my hand easily. A nice small wild brown trout took my nymph.

 

 Well that was encouraging. I let him go and took a few easy puffs of my cigar before continuing.

 

  I stuck with the flash back and proceeded to fish upstream as before. I had another take that at first I thought I had snagged bottom. I jerked the rod back anyhow as if setting the hook on a fish. To my surprise the line straightened and I felt the tip of the rod bend some upstream with a fish pulling. It didn’t feel very big but felt bigger than the one I had just caught. It turned down stream in an instant and my leader hung off the rod tip in slack bends. I couldn’t bring in line fast enough to keep a tight line. I watched the leader swing down stream, in front of me, in a limp strand like a broken clothes line in a whirlwind. Once I got the line straightened I felt the trout was still on and tugging to get away. I kept the rod high and slowly brought him towards me. I took out my net and gathered him in.

 

 That was pretty cool! I caught two trout that I really didn’t expect to catch any because of the shallow water conditions and being it’s November.

  I fished for another half hour I guess before my phone rang and he was headed back to pick me up. I waded upstream to find a place I could climb the bank to the road without much problem. While waiting for him I unclothed some of my heavy clothes I was wearing as the warm sunshine beat down on me like I was in a suntanning booth. Once I got some clothes off I felt more comfortable except for the chest waders I was wearing.

At his vehicle, as I was changing out of my fishing clothes, he asked me if I caught any trout? I just smiled, which gave it away, and said, “All you had to do is drop me off near water!”

~doubletaper