Hardy Clicker

                                                             Hardy Clicker

                                                                  4/30/25

 The plan of the day was to fish a smaller creek in the ANF and then fish Tionesta Creek after noon. Being that Tionesta Creek had cleared up some to a drab olive color instead of a muddy brown from the day before. Tionesta was still a little higher than what I would have liked but I was hoping after noon it would recede some to make it more wadeable. 

 After parking near the smaller creek I assembled my 6 piece Hardy ultra light 8’ 8” fly rod. It was like putting together an erector set project. Each piece fitted into specific ferrules that had dots to make sure the complete rod was together correctly. I fitted the rod with the Hardy Featherweight reel that just about fit in the palm of my hand. Two ring nuts secured the reel onto the wooden reel seat. I knew most of my casting would be roll casts because of the close bank side brush so the reel was strung with DT line. I got my gear together, a few cigars and headed to the small creek.

 Looking at the water it had cleared up nicely from the day before. It also receded some so I’ll be able to wade a little further out from the bank.  

 The morning air was chilly but the sun was rising bringing some warmth. Some green grass covered the bank adding needed color to the bare branched trees that scattered the forest. One small tree across the creek was budding whitish flowers that added some lighter hues. The sky was a bright blue with broken puffy white clouds scattered about. The riffling and wavy water sparkled where the rising sun broke through the tall far side trees and branches. It was a peaceful picturesque setting that even Bob Ross could have painted and even adding a small white camp with a red brick chimney in the background.  

 I waded up to the oncoming water that riffled over rocks. There was a deep area just before the water flowed over a subsurface shelf of boulders then continued to wave under a hemlock and into a deeper section of the creek. The water surface was partially shaded by the tall hemlock and shadows of the far side tree. I began roll casting a woolly bugger out towards the middle of the creek. A trout grabbed one of my drifts. I held the line tight as the trout wasn’t much of a heavy weight. When I went to net the rainbow the hook came out of his mouth and the trout escaped my net.

 I switched to a Triple Threat streamer and tossed towards the far bank as I slowly waded down creek.  My one cast drifted under the over hanging branchy white blossoming young tree. A hard tug pulled the line and I yanked quickly to make sure the hook point set! The trout took off down creek and the Hardy reel clicked like a kids Vintage Time Bomb game just before it goes off. Click, click, click as line pulled off the reel. The drag on the small reel was useless for the heavy trout on the other end so I tensioned the fly line between my fingers to slow him down. The trout tugged and fought aggressively as I played him towards me. It stayed well below the surface so I was pretty sure it was a brown trout. I guessed right as I was able to net the husky brown trout.

  Continuing to cover the area under the tree I went back to the Woolly Bugger. On one toss a trout grabbed the bugger on the swing as if heading down creek with it. I yanked the rod up and swung it downstream behind me to tighten the line and set the hook. The line straightened and the reel clicked again as line slid through the rod eyes. Putting more tension on the fly line between my fingers the trout turned towards me. I reeled in line, like cranking one of those vintage toy cars I used to own, not wanting the line to get in the way of netting the trout. The rod flexed with the hard tugs as it swam. It too stayed deep so I figured I had another brown trout. Right again! 

  I decided to nymph fish when I couldn’t gat any more strikes on the streamers. I missed a couple trout strikes and one I hooked but lost it in the faster water up creek. I actually watched it attack my San Juan worm as it skirted the surface riffles at the end of the drift. The trout came up quickly and nabbed it off the surface with one big mouth gulp. I instinctively pulled back the line and set the hook. It was a struggle as he had the advantage of fighting into the oncoming fast current. He swam out towards the far side and the tight line went limp after he surfaced for the last time.

 I missed a couple of hook ups down creek on either the San Juan worm or was it the Hare’s ear? Continuing to nymph fish towards the far side of the creek I was able to hook up to a fighting trout. He fought through the slower oncoming current and I landed a nice frisky rainbow. He took the Hare’s ear nymph.  

 I fished another half hour without a strike before I headed to the truck. I was surprised at the time. It was 3:00. A little later than I expected to be out but I was having fun. My next stop was Tionesta Creek.

~doubletaper 

Handling The Tuck

Handling The Tuck

4/17/25

 

 Evidently they didn’t release a bunch of water out of the dam the night before like they had been the last few days which caused high water and increased water flow. This morning we looked out the camper window and the conditions looked pristine.

 It was still chilly out so we took our time eating breakfast before suiting up. We were the only ones in the 5 row RV park and no one was staying at the club house. The camper overlooked the Tuckaseegee River just 25 yards or so down the grassy bank side. We were able to see the water level and clarity right from the camper window. The boys did well hooking up just across from the camper and down river some yesterday evening while I was tying buggers in the camper. The day before my youngest son and I caught a trout now and then early around the camper area and drove up to the project area and caught a few more. It wasn’t easy but we managed. 

 Most of the trout we’ve been catching were brook trout but every once in a while we’d catch a tugging rainbow. Nothing in the ‘BIG’ range but we were catching fish.

 After breakfast my youngest son and I suited up for morning fishing. It was around 10:00 and the sun was warming things up. The sun was over the tree tops by now and shining on the river water. The small surface waves looked like silver tinsel reflecting sunlight in a breeze. My son Giddeon was taking his two girls to their grandparents an 1/2 hour or so away but he’d be back by noon.

 My youngest son, Jesse Pete, entered the water and started fishing where the boys left off the day before. Heck, I figured those trout still had sore lips so I walked a ways upstream. There was a nice run of wavy water that deepened behind a flat shelved rock that barely broke the surface water. The rough waves gradually settled down, after the deep pool and flowed for about 20 yards or so before it got shallow. On the far side of the run was a smoother flow of water to the distant far side of the river. It wasn’t as dark as the water after the rock shelf but looked deep as I was able to see bottom under the glowing sun. 

 I started casting a bugger across stream and letting it swing. I switched offerings now and then without a strike. I knew there had to be trout in this long section of water but they just weren’t hungry yet? After a half hour I was starting to talk to myself, not out loud of course, but my thoughts were wondering why were the trout so picky? I put on an olive Woolly Bugger and was determined to wait them out till the breakfast bell rang.

 One drift, almost at the end of the swing, I saw a flash about where I figured my bugger to be. I didn’t feel a bump but I thought maybe a trout was interested. At the end of the swing a trout grabbed the bugger and I yanked back the rod to set the hook. As the 4 weight 9’ rod bowed you would of thought I snagged a floating log when the line tightened. Line shot threw the guides like a line attached to an arrow shot at a carp. The spool spun and spit out fly line in a jiff. Being that I cast and reel with my right hand I’m able to adjust the drag as needed with my left. I clicked the drag a couple of clicks but it didn’t slow the trout down right away. I wasn’t sure how far he was going but he definitely was in a hurry as if he was late for an important date. Downstream he rose to the surface and tugged and head shook spraying water everywhere. After this display he went under and surged up river. I reeled in line keeping the line tightened. 

 He got about right across from me and then raced downriver. I had to let line out as he was too strong to hold back. He surfaced again and splashed around before going deep and swam just about directly down from me. I moved my rod upstream and guided him into the flow as I reeled in line. He was too strong to force him my way so I moved the rod down stream to put side pressure on him. I let him swim with my side pressure without forcing him towards me because I knew the side pressure would help tire him more. Once he started coming my way I kept the rod level not wanting him to rise in the faster surface current in front of me. He turned with the current and swam downstream some. I didn’t give him free line but kept finger tension on the fly line. I turned the rod towered the bank trying to get him into slower current. He followed for an instant but didn’t like swimming in the slower current. He spun around, jerked his head like ‘over hear’ and swam just down from me as I moved the rod up river. He was getting closer so I got my net out and was ready for him. He surfaced and while splashing the surface water I scooped him up. What a nice rainbow for my first trout of the day. 

 Well that deserved a cigar. 

 I kept casting the Woolly Bugger and it was if someone rang the lunch bell at school. I started picking off trout here and there swinging the bugger. The rainbows were hitting the bugger on the swing and the brook trout usually were swatting at it at the end of the drift. Sometimes I was able to get a hook up but other times not. It was if the brookies were swatting at the bugger like a cat swatting at a hanging toy feather.  

  

 I started casting the bugger upstream in the deeper wavier current. I was following the drift as if nymph fishing watching my line. The line stopped upstream in the current and I reared the line back to set the hook. The line tightened and then went limp for a second so I lifted the rod up and back to keep tension. The line tightened again and cut through the water surface like a stainless steel wire cheese cutter through cheese. Once pass me the trout took off down river. He kept on going as if he was high tailing it out of trouble. Fly line peeled off the spool as the rod bowed and pointed and flexed down river. I had a feeling I had another good size rainbow. He wasn’t as strong as the first but he had a lot of fight. I got him swung around and after a bit got him netted. 

 I caught a few more before the water started to rise. The current got stronger and it was time to break for lunch anyhow. 

~doubletaper 

Rainbows on the 3 weight

 Rainbows on the 3 Weight

4/05/25

‘I didn’t camp along a trout stream to look out the window at the rain and cold while tying flies all day. I came to fish!’ 

 Wednesday, when I set up my camper, Tionesta Creek was pretty low and clear. From Wednesday through Friday, despite the occasional showers, the creek rose some with still good visibility. The sun shined most of the time and the air stayed moderate.  Saturday was another story.

 

 Friday night it poured down into early Saturday morning. By 8:00 the creek rose a lot and visibility was getting worse. I got out by 8:30 into the rainy morning. I was hoping to get into some trout before the creek turned too muddy and high. I assembled my 9’ Icon fly rod and headed to the creek. Out in open water my third cast landed my Woolly Bugger 2/3rd across creek. On the swing I felt a hard strike and set the hook. While I was playing the trout towards me is when I realized I may only have 6x tippet on the end of my tapered leader being I was fishing dry flies the week before. Near me, in the fast undercurrent, I took out the net and was ready to net what looked to be a 15” brown trout. The brown trout took off and the tippet snapped leaving me with a straightened 9’ rod and limp line. There was no use standing in the cold water and rain trying to tie new 4x tippet on. I waded out to the camper and proceeded to correct my mishap. By the time I got back in the water the creek rose some more and the cloudy conditions got worse. I fished for another few hours anyhow. There were a few other fishermen that tried their luck. I didn’t have anymore strikes and never saw anyone catch anything! 

 Later on I drove and checked out other smaller creeks and found they where high, muddy and running fast. I went back to camp disappointed but figured Sunday, if it doesn’t rain any more, the smaller streams should be well enough to fish.

 

Sunday 4/06

 I was up early and after a hot oatmeal breakfast I dressed warm and headed to the smaller creek. I already had my hip waders on and wading boots. I checked the thermometer before I left and it read 41 degrees. It was a misty sprinkling rain but I was going fish’n. 

 At the narrow creek I fitted the 3 weight 7’ Hardy rod sections together and attached a Woolly Bugger. I put my Ausie rain hat on and grabbed a few cigars. I walked right to the creek from the truck and stepped into the water, it was cold. Bare limbed trees over hung the narrow stream like a row of soldiers reaching out their sword towards each other, high above them, in the presence of the queen walking through. The creek had come down considerably overnight, not flowing so fast and with good visibility yet cloudy enough trout shouldn’t be too wary of an intruder. Though this was the second day of the opening season I doubt many fish were caught the day before because of miserable conditions, so they should have been unmolested. It turned out I was right. 

 On my third cast out I watched my fly line arc on the surface water as my Woolly Bugger swung down creek. At the end of the swing a trout struck the bugger so hard it nearly took the rod out my soft grip. I grasped the cork tighter and yanked back quickly and my first trout was on the line. It wiggled, fought and battled into the current all the way to the net. By 7:30 I had my first rainbow. 

 Each rainbow after that came in wildly like hyper kids at a birthday party, in a Bouncy House, after eating cake and ice cream. The trout rose to the surface splashing and kicking up water. I was catching one after another like it was the first day and the trout had no idea what a fisherman or fake bait was. In the next half hour or so I gave a lot of the local trout sore lips before another truck parked along side of mine.  

 I looked down creek and began my way to a section of water I knew was deep and usually held a good amount of trout. 

 I gradually fished my way down creek casting Woolly Buggers and streamers in deeper runs. I only caught one rainbow before I got to the section I was wanting to take time fishing.

 It didn’t take too long before I was hooking up very frequently with buggers and Triple Threats. The rainbows were just as wild jumping and carrying on like neighborhood kids taking turns jumping on an outdoor trampoline. They tossed and turned every which way trying to free themselves. Even in the net they squirmed around! 

 It was if they had no idea the mess they got themselves into getting hooked and fighting furiously against their will. I was picking off rainbow after rainbow with the streamers until the bite slowed down.  

 

 Being that all the trout I caught were rainbows I knew that rainbows liked red. I figured I’d fish beneath under an indicator with one of my bi-color San Juan worms. I had a bead head pink sucker spawn on my fly patch so I figured the UV yarn would get the fishes attention in the stained water and give the trout two choices of a meal. It was if I yelled out the door, to the neighborhood kids, it was snack time. The rainbows grabbed the combination without fear. My indicator would be pulled below and I’d yank the 7’er  up and set the hook followed by a tugging wild fight. I figured that lasted another hour or so before I lost the pair in a branch hanging from a log across the creek just up stream.  

 I dug another San Juan from my box of tricks. I didn’t have anymore bead-head sucker spawn but had a six pack of glo bugs I use for steelhead. I picked a pretty pink one out and tied it to my tapered leader. I knotted an a strip of 5x tippet and knotted on the San Juan. I lit another stogie and dipped my boots back into the creek.

 Casting up creek and letting the combination drift it was Deja vu all over again. Maybe not as quick and often but the rainbows liked the pink glo bug enough that after a while it looked like a glob of pink lint from a dryer filter. 

 It took another hour or so before I couldn’t get another strike. I knotted on a Woolly Bugger and caught a couple more hungry trout before heading back upstream. I caught one more trout in a semi-deep run before I got to my truck. Just for the heck of it I decided to try the pink glo bug right where I started from in the morning. I knew a couple of fishermen had fished the same spot while I headed down creek earlier but maybe they didn’t hook them all or didn’t have the right bait. I knotted on a pink egg pattern and crimped lead about a foot up from the egg to get it down quickly. I attached an indicator so I could adjust the length of line to the egg pattern as needed. The current was unsteady but with the indicator I was more sure the drift would go with the flow than without. Being that the current was fast and wavy I didn’t want my egg pattern to actually drag bottom as it might without the indicator plus there looked to be a rocky bottom. The indicator would keep my pattern above the rocks and looking like it just got swept under the current and heading down creek naturally. 

 ( Most of the time I try to figure things out according to conditions. It’s not that I might be right but it gives me confidence when I think things out. I believe confidence and patience catches more fish the dumb luck! )

 Well my thought process worked. Rainbows were taking the pink egg pattern like kids sharing pink cotton candy off a stick. One after another took the egg pattern. All I had to see was the indicator go under and I yanked the rod up. The indicator would follow with a tight line controlled by a mighty fighting rainbow.  

 

 By 3:00 I called it quits. I had fun for the day and it started to get chillier out. I undid my waders, wiped off and packed the Hardy Demon back in its case. I was ready for a hot bowl of chili back at the camper. 

~doubletaper

Just Another Day

                                                                   Just Another Day

3/21/25 

 It looked like a nice day to go fishing looking out the truck window in my warm truck. The sun was shining and the visual signs of the park looked inviting. The thermostat, in the truck, read 39 degrees so I wasn’t too anxious to get dressed and go out fishing just yet. There were already a couple of vehicles in the lot nearby. I put on a tossle cap and stepped outside. The outside was cold and wasn’t as pleasant as it looked from the truck window. I walked down to the creek to have a look see. Looking over, from the bank, there were three guys fishing down creek. Two with a fly rod and one with spinning gear. Way up creek, at the big bend, were a couple of other fishermen. 

 The air was chilly but there was no sign of rain and the wind was light. Clouds moved slowly above below the cool blue sky. I fished the same area a week ago but now the water had came down and the flow looked less challenging. It looked like a good day!

 Back at the truck I was in no hurry to get started. It was around 11:00 by now but I knew, from last outing, the stoneflies didn’t hatch till around 2:30 or there after. While I was getting my fishing gear on the spin fisherman came to the parking area. He said he hadn’t caught anything and didn’t see anyone else catch anything. 

 Back, out in the water, it was like the trout just weren’t hungry. The next few hours I only caught one trout and a guy downstream only caught one trout before him and the other guy left. I knew there were trout around but couldn’t figure out what they wanted. Sure they might be lethargic and you have to serve them right in front of their face but I’m sure we had done that without a bite. It’s hard for me to believe they were waiting for the stonefly hatch come 2:00 or so. I mean, there’s times I wake up in the morning and can’t wait for dinner time at the local buffet restaurant but I’de have to eat something before hand!

 I was throwing food out in every direction. Tidbits of nymphs, wet flies, San Juans and meaty buggers and Streamers. It was if my offerings smelled like Pepe’ Le Pew and not even a stray cat wanted to get near it. I finally saw my first rise and being I wasn’t doing any good underneath I figured I’de practice my dry fly casting. I knotted on a stonefly dry and start casting it out. 

 Every once in a while a trout would rise but they didn’t want anything I offered them. There weren’t any stoneflies I saw yet but only these small midges. I watched one fall to the water making a commotion on the water as it skirted the surface till a mouth came up and gulped it in. It had to be a size 22 or less. I’m not crazy about tossing anything less than an18. Even tying 20’s or less is a challenge let alone trying to knot one on. That’s one thing I’ll never understand. Why would a trout refuse a hearty meal but take a morsel instead. Are they really that picky at times? 

 When a few stoneflies finally started to appear on the water a few more trout started to rise. I was ready for them. It wasn’t a full fledged hatch like the week before but there were enough risers now and then to keep things interesting. After catching my first on a dry a couple of guys walked the bank down towards me and entered the water downstream from me. I think once they saw me catch a trout on top, and saw risers, they knotted on dries also. 

  By chance one of the fellows called out my name. By coincidence we actually fished another creek the week before!

 Most of the rising trout were near the far bank or far enough away that I needed to make long casts. With the gusts of wind, now and then, it wasn’t easy to know where my dry fly would end up. This is why I use a fast action rod and weight forward line. Also I make more sidearm casts to keep the wind resistance down to a minimum. 

 We were catching trout anywhere between 8” to 10” mostly but one never knows until you get one in the net. 

 I made a long cast where one trout seemed to be feeding, at will, within my easy casting range. It took a few casts to get him to rise but he took the stonefly dry as it drifted into his zone. I reared back the long length of line and I hooked him. The rod bent good on the hook set and the battle was on. I knew I had a good lengthy trout by the arc in the rod and the strength of his fight. More than once he fought just below the surface stirring up the water like the Tasmanian Devil itself kicking up dust on his appearance. It took some patience but I got him in the net safely. Nice rainbow!

 Continuing casting to risers was a lot more interesting than drifting nymphs or streamers!

  I happen to notice one trout just sipping the surface. If I wasn’t looking in his direction I wouldn’t have noticed. I made a cast up creek of his freezing zone with an arc in the fly line so the first thing the trout should see is the stonefly dry and not the tippet or fly line. It was if my dry fly was just resting and drifting on the surface like Daffy Duck drifting peacefully after fighting the wind. The nose of a trout broke the surface and sipped it in like a marshmallow on a cup of hot chocolate. I reared back the rod and the fly line rose off the surface water as quick as the chain off the ground when Barnyard Dawg chases after Foghorn Leghorn. The line tightened and another trout was battling beneath flexing the rod like a cat playing with a stick and string toy! He raced up creek like the Road Runner and then quickly turned down creek like Wiley Coyote being followed by a misguided Acme missile. We fought tooth and nail and I finally won out getting the frisky trout in the net. Another nice size rainbow. 

 As rises slowed down in front of me I noticed a few risers up in the shallower water. I waded up creek being careful like Elmer Fudd carefully and silently tip toeing to get within range of Daffy Duck. Once within casting range I made casts upstream. It took a few casts to get my offering within the trouts sight. The trout rose to it and I was quick enough to pull line back and set the hook. He was near as big as the trout earlier and scurried around in the riffling water. 

 

 We fished together for the next hour or so until the trout quit rising. We each caught a fair amount considering the lack of many risers. Anytime we saw a rise we concentrated on casting to them.

 It was just another day in my life casting to rising trout and smoking good cigars.

 

  ~doubletaper