Birthday Trout 2025
5/31/25
It was mostly a cloudy rainy morning camping along Tionesta Creek. Every once in a while I’de walk down to the creek. Though it rained lightly off and on the creek didn’t appear to rise or dirty up. It was lower than the day before though it was still a little on the stained side. It was definitely colder. Around noon the sun came out from behind the clouds. I was tired and bored sitting in the camper doing puzzle books and watching The Bourne Ultimate Collection with the generator running giving me a/c voltage. I needed to do something else and when I saw the sun shining outside I decided to go fishing. I dressed warm and switched my fishing stuff from my vest to my rain fishing jacket. By the time I got my waders on the clouds blanketed the sky and the sun disappeared. It was if the three way lamp bulb went from brightest to its dimmest setting. I decided to walk up creek following the path, through the trees, to begin fishing back to the camp.
When I got near where I wanted to start there were two guys already fishing that area. I stepped into the creek about a hundred yards down creek from them and waded out thigh high deep. I started to cast a Woolly Bugger haphazardly looking for a rise because I really wanted to dry fly fish. In time a fish grabbed the bugger almost at the end of the drift. I yanked back and hooked him. He put up a good fight and I was surprised when I netted the fish it was a smallmouth bass. Not that I haven’t caught smallmouth in the creek but for the colder water and weather I just didn’t expect one yet. I guess they have to eat year round also.
Now, I’ve read experts on nymph fishing claim that if you aren’t catching trout show them something smaller. I’m not much of a nymph fisherman so I can’t really deny that it doesn’t work. When I’m dry fly fishing in stained water but clear enough that trout would see surface flies, and there isn’t a hatch, I go a bit larger. It was an overcast day and there wasn’t any hatch to speak of. Sure I saw small caddis flying about and one sulfur and the biggest mayfly I saw might of been a March Brown but couldn’t be sure.
I was the only one fishing this section the past few days so I figured if the trout were rising they might not be too picky what passes by. I’de show them something they can see on this overcast day and somewhat stained water. I knotted the #14 oversized elk hair caddis and cast it out to maybe interest a hungry trout that’s tired eating tidbit nymphs or tiny dries they might be counting on. One thing about trout that feed on small flies it takes them a good many to fill themselves up so why not tease them with a bigger meal?
I was just blind casting the elk hair and fooled a trout now and then. Some came up quickly not wanting it to pass by. Others slurped it up with a gulp. If there was a riser that wouldn’t take it on a drift I’d cast the caddis in the area and then skate it across the water and then let it rest and drift down creek. This accounted for a couple of trout. I didn’t hook all of them but it kept me busy and aware there were trout willing to rise if I gave them something to rise for. They didn’t appear to be too picky.
I was just out from my camper standing on a flat boulder that put me thigh high in waist deep water. The wind picked up and with it brought more coldness with the already chilly afternoon. I was casting upstream every once in a while being a fish rose a couple of times. He wouldn’t grab the caddis. I made a long cast across creek and watched it drift till it dragged the surface. I made another cast across creek that the wind caught and dropped my dry fly short of where I wanted it to go. I brought in some of the slack line and watched my dry fly offering drift drag free. It was windy so I skated it across the surface and stopped it to watch it drift on the surface current. A trout rose and grabbed it in a big splashing gulp. I hurriedly pulled in slack line and raised the Douglas 9 footer as high as I could. The line tightened and the trout dove deep. The 4 weight bowed into the butt section and the slack line, upon the water near me, zipped through my fingers. It felt like I hooked into a rubber hip boot flowing with the under current. I knew right away I had biggy. I wasn’t sure how big or husky but I wasn’t able to stop him heading down creek with the current.
After all the slack line, on the water near me, slipped through my fingers I pinched the fly line a little tighter putting tension on it. The trout, down creek, must of felt the resistance and turned up creek quite a ways out from me. He didn’t tug with head shakes like the other trout when he swam but was more heavy and weighty pulling flexing the rod and line. He wasn’t as quick as the other trout swimming but he was heavy enough that I couldn’t get him close anytime soon. He turned back down creek and I couldn’t stop him without putting excess strain on the rod and line so I had to let him take line back out. Down creek he swam to and fro. I couldn’t bring in line and I was holding the line trying not letting him take any more. For a short while it was a tug of war match that neither of us was gaining any ground. I finally moved the rod up stream, level with the surface, trying to make him swim into the oncoming current. He followed quite reluctantly. Once he was across from me, in the distance, I swung the rod up putting side pressure on him to tire him more. It was if he stopped. The rod bowed and the tight line pointed straight through the surface as if I had a snag. It was as if it was time for a radio station to identify itself pausing the action for a second or two. He turned and swam down creek getting ever so closer. As I took in line as much during the battle as I could, line laid upon the surface water near me. I knew I couldn’t have it laying around getting it mixed up when I get him closer. I Grabbed the rod with my left hand and pinched the line against the grip. I started reeling in the slack line with my right hand picking it up off the surface as the trout swam back and forth down creek. When he gave a tugging pull I switched hands quickly and tensioned the line. The Douglas 4 weight was holding its own and I felt comfortable with its ability the way I was playing the trout. I once again brought the rod up creek level with the surface. He reluctantly followed again. It wasn’t like I was actually dragging him up into the current. He was just slowly swimming upstream in the direction I moved the rod and line. I had my finger pinching the fly line as I took out my net and let it dangle on the water still attached to my wader belt. I lifted the rod and he came up close enough to the surface I was able to see his length. He all of a sudden dove deep with a big tail swat that splashed water in my direction. The pinched fly line pulled away from my grip as he swam down creek some. Once I got control again he wasn’t as forceful. I could tell I had him tired out enough I could bring him in a little easier. Near me I lifted the rod and as he rose to the surface with a couple twisting water slaps but I was able to scoop him in my net. My elk hair caddis held tight in the crook in his jaw. He settled down in the bottom of the net and hardly moved a muscle. I got a couple of quick pictures and removed the elk hair from his jaw. I dipped the net in the water and he swam out with a tail swat.
Now I’ve fished in North Carolina in April hoping for my birthday trout. I caught some nice half decent trout but never could claim one was big enough to be my birthday trout for 2025. Mid May I fished Kettle Creek for a week. It wasn’t like I was searching for a birthday trout but it was always on my mind. Between the North Carolina trip, Kettle Creek fishing and till now I’ve been out fishing but never could say I caught my birthday trout. In fact I thought it was going to elude me this year. I guess it’s like buck season. I went quite a few years getting a buck every year for a while. Sooner or later I knew I was going to miss a year. It’s not that I cried over it. Well, I’m claiming this to be my birthday trout for 2025. It may of come a month later than my birthday but I’m giving it the recognition it deserves.
As I lit a rewarding cigar all of a sudden I felt the chill in my upper body return. I felt the coldness of the water swirl around my legs as if it wasn’t cold while I battled with the trout. The wind seamed to get windier. I noticed it started to sprinkle. The gray clouds looked like big puffs of smoke, that was stagnate in the air above, from a steam engine. The middle of the creek reflected light like an ice skating arena. The bank sides of the surface water reflected the green trees that lined the bank in a mirror image. I was quite content, cold but content.
I dried off the caddis and powdered it with dry dust. I casted out a few times. One drift I missed a rising trout. I looked at my cell phone and it was going on 2:30. It started to sprinkle a little more and the gusts of wind got even stronger. I looked towards my camper and thought about how warm I could be soon if I call it quits. I caught fish on dry flies and caught my birthday trout. Odds of catching another biggy was very slim. Odds of getting warm within a half hour in my camper was better odds if I left now. I hooked the caddis to the rod hook keeper and waded out and up to my camper.
~doubletaper
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