Ending the Fishing Drought
2/27/26
It’s been a long cold and snowy winter here in PA. Weeks went by with temps in the teens and some nights in the single digits. Snow accumulation from 12” to 20”. Once the snow started melting the river and creeks were near flood stage, so fishing was mostly impossible. I suppose those with snowmobiles and ice fishermen might have enjoyed the outdoors to some degree, I wasn’t all happy with it. Even some of the hard water fishermen I know weren’t going to tread thru the many inches of snow, shovel a place to fish and dig a hole through the thick ice. I’m sure there were some, but I doubt many. It’s just not my cup of tea anyway.
When
it finally warmed up to melt the snow, once the water leveled out to
be fishable, I was itching to get out of the house. Friday, I headed
to Volant to fish the Delayed Harvest area. I got there around noon
and joined other fishermen for our quest of hooking up to some trout.
I didn’t see any of the nymph fishermen catching anything while I
watched, but maybe they had when I wasn’t looking. Down from the
shop I hooked into 2 nice trout. The first was a lunker of a rainbow
that was a real tug-of-war getting him to the net.
My
second trout was a rough and tumble lengthy brown trout that gave my
5 weight, 9’
Icon rod a real work out.
Those
were the two biggest trout I caught but they were worth the hour
drive from home and broke the fishing drought I needed to end!
I
don’t usually fish on weekends since I retired. It’s frustrating
to me fishing with a gathering of other fishermen. Close quarters of
side-by-side fishing, crossing lines of those that don’t respect
the others space. Then having to listen to jabber jawing and phone
calls of those that need some verbal conversation. I go fishing to
get away from the normalcy of everyday living. I like the peace and
quiet of being out in nature away from the disturbance of everyday
life. Don’t get me wrong, I like people but having to listen to
their noise on the water just is annoying. So, I mostly fish during
the weekdays.
3/04/26
Wednesday of the following week, after Volant fishing, I drove an hour
and a half to the next creek I wanted to fish. I haven’t fished the
Kinzua Creek for about 30 some years. I looked up where the Delayed
Harvest area was on my PC and charted it on my phone. Just before
noon I reached my destination. Looking over the water looked in great
condition as far as wadable water level though it was quite clear to
be questionable to not spook the trout. I was just getting my gear on
when a fellow fisherman came to his truck I parked next to. In
conversation he said there were plenty of trout down a bit and he
didn’t venture any further. Even from the parking area, where we
stood, I was able to see a couple of golden trout. He was holding a
spinning rod. I thought to myself “I wonder how the trout would
like a fly fisherman’s offering?” I assembled my old SAS 5
weight, 8 ½’ Scott rod and attached a Woolly Bugger to the tippet.
After grabbing my sling pack, and a few cigars, I headed down to the
creek where I saw the golden trout. In the meantime, another truck
pulled into the lot and 3 guys, with conventional gear, were getting
their waders on and gear together.
When I
stood on the bank, I looked down creek and saw a big pod of trout. I’m
not sure how many bucket full were there, but there were many
huddled and strung out like a gathering of a new marching band on a
football field waiting for further instructions. I was hoping that they weren’t all spooked by the
spin fisherman and it wasn’t till I swung my first cast down creek
towards them that they didn’t appear to be spooked at all. They
evidently were hungry also! For about an hour or so I was picking
them off one by one with different shades of Woolly Buggers and
Triple Threat streamers.
Early
on I connected with a husky rainbow. My SAS bowed deep as I fought
the trout. He splashed the surface spraying water everywhere. My
knots held up and I got him to the net safely. What a brute!
One of
my other catches was a nice brown trout. He was pale in color and
fought like a Tasmanian Devil. The rod tip flexed in all direction as
the trout scurried beneath tugging and trying to free itself. Nearer
the net he alligator rolled, like most brown trout do, trying to
tangle himself up in line making it harder to corral him.
As I
was fishing one of the guys with a spinning rod crossed the creek and
started fishing to the back end of the pod I was fishing for. By then
I had caught many trout and didn’t mind. Not that I owned the water,
but it didn’t get me upset we were fishing for the same fish. He
wasn’t catching many trout anyhow. He switched his lures often
which gave me a chance to make longer casts to the far end of the
pool.
I
can’t really estimate how many trout I caught without maybe over
exaggerating. Later on, the spin fishermen left and, being the trout
quit biting, I waded down creek to fish. I ended up only hooking up
twice more before returning to where I started. There were two young
boys standing on the bank with spinning rods. They pulled a trout out
of the pod now and then which I enjoyed watching. I hooked the Woolly
Bugger to the hook keeper and headed up to the truck.
I
drove downstream quite a way till I got to a section with a parking
area close to the creek. I fished for about another hour and was able
to pick up one more rainbow and missed a quick take. By then it was
around 4:00. I called it a day, dressed into street clothes and
headed home.
~doubletaper
