A Session on Neshannock Creek

 

A Session on Neshannock Creek

3/26/26

 

 After picking up my new Scott 8’ 6” 4 weight Session, from the Neshannock Creek Fly Shop, I was anxious to try it out on the Neshannock Creek. After false casting it, on the lawn out front, I placed the rod in the rod rack outside the shop and drove up to the big parking area to get my gear on. A friend of mine followed me and we got dressed for a trout session on the creek.

The water was in great condition. Not crystal clear but just enough color for fish finding offerings. It was already in the upper 50° range with a slight breeze. The sun wasn’t up above the far tree line yet which shaded the creek water. I attached a Woolly Bugger to the tippet and stepped into the water upstream from the shop. I was expecting to feel a rush of cold water around my hip waders but now, thinking about it, I was either anxious to start fishing the new rod or the water just wasn’t that cold to notice.

The rod itself felt light in hand. I bought the rod, being it was considered a fast action with a soft tip. When I cast it, it came natural to me. The soft tip they mentioned was pretty close to my Winston Boron rod with the Winston feel. The rod wasn’t as forgiving and therefore roll casting was more improved compared to the Winston which wasn’t worth 2 cents when trying to roll cast a weighted streamer within a short distance. Don’t get me wrong, my 6 weight Winston overhand casts foam poppers and weighted Buggers with ease out quite a distance but trying to roll cast weighted offerings up close wasn’t meant for this rod. The Scott rod on the other hand roll casts fine with the weight forward floating line and a weighted bugger attached.

Overhand casting the weighted bugger mid-creek to far side was easy and not much finesse needed. After about 10 minutes or so, without only one bump and no hook up, I knotted on one of my Triple Threat streamers. The rod pitched the unweighted, cone head Triple Threat with ease. My third cast was nearer to the far bank and I let it swing freely down creek. I felt a grab just before the line straightened and reared back the rod for the hook set. The floating line came off the water as the line tightened and my first trout, with the new rod, was tugging fiercely against the oncoming current. I could feel the upper section of the rod flexing as I brought the tugging trout to the net. “No problem here,” I thought. I took out my camera for a picture of my first trout on the new Scott rod.

 We fished for about another hour without a hook up. Not that we didn’t have any bumps but not strong enough to get a hook set. By 11:30 or so the sun was up over the creek and bringing warmth upon us like walking into a sauna with unbearable heat. Being we couldn’t turn the heat down we went up to our vehicles and took some of our heavier clothes off. Back at the creek we found room to fish between the other fishermen.

 Small stoneflies started to hatch and skirt across the water. I knotted on a dry stonefly I tie and casted out trying to get a hook up but the trout weren’t interested. Most of the rises were very sporadic and most looked like they were taking emergers and not sipping the surface. Without a dry strike I tried nymph fishing without any hits. Back to streamer fishing I worked my way down creek. Down creek I caught one more trout on a Woolly Bugger but I still had dry fly fishing on my mind. There were a couple of risers down creek, during the stonefly hatch, but not as many as were up creek. Though I tried for the few risers they wouldn’t take either of my dry stoneflies. I hooked the dry to the hook keeper and went back up creek.

 By now there were less fishermen, and I waded within distance of most of the fish I saw rising earlier. Every once in a while, a gust of wind would blow up creek. Casting the dry across the wind wasn’t a problem. The fast action rod performed great as I expected it to for this was the reason I bought the faster action rod. I was only able to raise one trout on my dry stonefly but didn’t get him hooked. The trout came up right in front of me within my vision of seeing him rise. Maybe I was so excited I pulled the line and dry off the water before he even got it to his mouth. Whatever the reason, I never felt the slightest pinch upon missing him. It was like knowing full well you can hit a lazy stink bug flying around by swatting at it but not even grazing it with your hand. That trout wasn’t going to be fooled again, nor did I have any other sporadic trout interested.

 Sometimes I would see a trout surface for a fly on the water, but I couldn’t see anything else on the water except a stonefly now and then but not as often as earlier. Maybe there was something out there I couldn’t see or the fish were grabbing small emergers? I decided to knot on a #18 BWO. There was one trout that came up pretty regularly out towards the far side of the creek. I started making long casts towards the area and I knew I was getting my dry within his zone. I knew I had to just wait him out and eventually I felt he would come up.

 My overhand cast cut through the slight breeze and, with a tight loop, fell upon the water up from the area the trout was rising within. I watched as the BWO CDC wing drift upon the water in the distance. A trout rose quickly and gulped at it. I swung the rod up creek and pulled in line with my left hand. The long length of line sprung from the water and I felt the resistance on the other end. The trout felt like he was pretty furious as he battled against the current and the tight line. He wasn’t too graceful once I netted him and was as if begging to be released. Oh well, he got his picture anyway before I released him.

 Now that was pretty cool. Got my first trout on a dry fly for 2026. Now it was time to try and fool another. Within a couple more casts I felt something was wrong with the casting. Bringing in the line and tippet my dry BWO was gone. The end of the 5x tippet was curled. Evidently the knot gave out. Good thing it didn’t give out upon bringing in the trout!

 I found another BWO and knotted it on. I caught one more trout that occasionally was rising within a small run made by a boulder just below the surface. He came up as if he was going for an emerger before it took flight. I was ready when he reached the surface and yanked back the rod and line. He was already hooked when his momentum caused his body to break the surface displaying half his body. I noticed right off it was another rainbow trout before he disappeared beneath. We had a good go around before I got him swung around in slower current in the net.

Well, that was 2 on a dry fly! Now to see if I could fool another.

 It took some time with many casts trying to get a fish to rise. I was mostly blind casting out there as there weren’t any risers during the time. It was like throwing rocks in a cut down corn field trying to stir a ringneck to flush.

 I glanced up creek at another fisherman and by chance a fish rose almost within 20’ of me upstream and away. Now, I miss more trout dry fly fishing up creek from them than fishing across or down creek. I’m not sure why? Well, I wasn’t going to move and disturb the water for a better angle and a downstream cast. With the wind blowing up creek, against my back, I made a sharp high back cast and pointed the rod tip upstream on my forward cast. The wind carried my dry a little further than what I thought of would have liked but it fell upon the surface safely. It looked like it was going to drift into the fishes zone as I brought in line trying to keep it taunt. The trout rose right up creek from me, and I swear it was within 10 feet. There was quite of bit of line slack on the water as I thought my dry was already passed his eyesight. I quickly raised the rod as high as I could and stripped the slack line off the water as quickly as I could. I saw the trout head turn towards me as the hook set. Maybe I pulled a little harder than I needed to, but my knots held as the trout went under and scurried around. I took control after he scurried down creek and was able to scoop him up in the net. The hook was in the roof of his mouth. He settled down enough that I was able to dislodge it, with my hemostats, without any harm. A quick picture and he was on his way safely out of the net.

 After that Kevin and I fished for another hour or so. I couldn’t get another strike on either a dry or a streamer. Downstream I saw Kevin bringing in a trout. His rod was well bowed and it looked like he had a good fish on the other end. When I saw him headed to the bank with the trout in the net I figured he had a lunker. I was too far, in the water, up creek from him to try to get to him for a picture. After releasing the trout he looked my way with his hands apart imitating how long the trout was.

 When we were ready to go he told me that was the biggest trout he ever caught in the Neshannock Creek. We headed to our vehicles and called it a day.

 My new Scott Session rod is an exceptional rod by my terms. It handled well with the wind, casting streamers and dry flies and bringing in frisky trout. It’s definitely a keeper and I know I’ll be using it often.

~doubletaper

Maurer's Ant

 Maurer's Ant

 I had a person ask me to tie up some wet ants that can be casted with a fly rod but also from conventional rods under a bobber for pond bluegill. For weight I decided on a black nickel brass bead for the abdomen and a smaller black glass bead for the head. The black nickel will give weight to get it down and also a little attracting glare. 

Hook; #10 Mustad S82AP/3906B

Bead; 7/64 Black glass bead for head

Bead; 1/8 Black nickel brass bead for abdomen

Thread; W 3/0 22d Uni-Thread

Thorax; Black thread.

Legs; Black hackle

Zap-A-Gap

1. Place the beads on the hook with the glass bead first followed by the black nickel bead.

2.  Starting with the black thread about half the shanks length, thread back to bend. From about the start of the hook bend taper a large oval thread wrap. You want to make sure that when you push the nickel bead towards the bend the bead stops securely against the oval thread wraps. Tie off thread in front of bead.

 3. I brush the thread wraps with Zap-A-Gap

 

4. Next, push the nickel bead up against the oval thread wraps. The Zap-A-Gap should hold it in place.

5. Start another thread wrap, near halfway towards the front, and wind back to the nickel bead. Taper the thread just in front of the nickel bead and thread towards the middle between beads. This forms the back end of the thorax. 

6. Tie on the black hackle to make the legs. I try to make the back end of the thorax longer than the front portion. Usually 2 or 3 turns with the hackle, one in front of the other, makes plenty of legs. 

 7. Trim the hackle and secure. Thread wrap the rest of the thorax to behind the front glass bead adding a few extra wraps just behind the bead so the bead doesn't slide back.

 8. I brush on Zap-A-Gap on threads behind front bead and on thread between back bead and hackle.

9. Go fish it. 

~doubletaper

Ending the Fishing Drought

 

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

Branching Out

                                                               Branching Out

6/10/25  

 Yesterday’s rain and the overnight rain left everything around the area high and muddy. Even Blue Jay Creek was high, fast and discolored. As I looked out of my camper window the morning sky changed from cloudy to sunshine to overcast. The weather experts claim it was going to rain on one radio station yet another weatherman didn’t mention rain. It all depended on which radio station I listened to. It was like betting on a horse race in muddy conditions. You can throw the odds of who’s going to win out the window. It didn’t actually feel like it was going to rain when I walked out but 6 miles away, over the hill tops, it could be. I ate breakfast and decided to journey out to see if I could find a small creek that would be fishable. I wasn’t too sure so I just dressed in street clothes and brought my fishing clothes with me. If I couldn’t find fishable water I could always visit the butcher shop and winery nearby!

 I took a drive up north and found a smaller stream fishable. I hadn’t fished this branch for years but it has always been on my mind in these kinds of conditions. I didn’t remember where I actually used to fish it but it flowed through the ANF and is stocked waters. I figured there might be trout anywhere. Not sure how much pressure it gets, being it flows through the ANF out away from any main road. Anyhow, I was going to find out.

 After parking and getting my hip waders and wading boots on I assembled my 7’ 3 weight Hardy rod because of the close quarters I’d be casting from. I put a couple of stogies in my vest pocket, mainly to keep the bugs from my face, and then weaved my way through the tall grass and ferns heading upstream. Once I got to the bank of the small stream I was impressed by the stream improvements.

 Log poles were placed along the banks in the straight runs. Big rock and boulders had been placed along the banks on bends and deeper pools. Maybe either to eliminate the erosion of the banks from water flow or just good cover for trout from predators. 

 I started casting a woolly bugger not really expecting to catch many trout. Though this small creek is in the National Forest it’s evident that it gets visited often. There’s a big parking lot upstream for visitors and it looks as though a club monitors the creek. Way back when I used to fish this creek it was mostly stocked with brook trout. Every once in a while I’d catch a native brookie but not often. I’m always positive when trout fishing that I’ll catch a trout no matter the conditions or time of year. This was one of them.

 I slowly casted across and down the narrow section of the creek. Sometimes it was from the bank trying not to stir up the stream bed should I wade the water. I had one bump before the bridge in a narrow passage just out from an overhanging brushy small leafy branch. The fish tried grabbing the bugger at least three times before it was uninterested. Maybe it was a small brook trout that couldn’t get it’s mouth open enough to grab the #10 hook of my woolly bugger. I just quit playing with it and continued down stream. Just under the bridge I finally got a good take. He was a feisty one.  

 Down from the bridge there was an overhanging tree. Branches were leaning over the water making it almost impossible to cast beneath with a fly rod. From upstream I roll casted the bugger in front of me and let out line getting the bugger beneath. I did have a hard take but I wasn't in a position to lift the rod high because of the tree branches and brush around me. I tried to strip set the trout but he was so quick that it didn’t connect. I tried a couple more drifts under the tree overhang but didn’t have any takers. I had to walk around the high grass and walked back to the creek. There I came to a big pool of water. The narrower flow, from the bridge and overhang, opened up into this big pool. It was hard to tell how deep it was in the center but I was sure it held trout.

 A faster wavy current entered on the far side along the man installed rocks and boulders along the bank. It flowed in a semicircle, along the bank, until it emptied into a narrower run downstream. Before the end of the pool the water circled back into the wide section of the pool, like a back eddy, with almost no surface current flow. I looked over my situation and stepped easily in the water trying not to stir up any silt or waves to concern my presence. 

 My first cast was across the creek up where the water entered the big pool from the overhanging branches. The bugger fell into the water and under the small wavy current. It didn’t travel too far when a trout grabbed the bugger like it was the first meal of the day. The 3 weight flexed as the trout scurried around the big pool till I got him to the net. Well, that was fun and I expected more of it! 

 After I released the rainbow I noticed a couple trout moved up into the thigh high water just in front of me. I’m not sure if the fish I caught scared them out of the deeper pool section or they maybe thought it was feeding time and they wanted to be the next in line. I lit up a stogie and figured I was going to stick around here for a while.

 I was casting out the bugger until I saw a fish rise in the slowest current down from me in, what looked like, the deepest part of the pool. I didn’t see anything of size flying around except tiny little insects. That wasn’t going to stop me from knotting on a dry fly though. I nipped off some of the 5x tippet and knotted on a section of 6x. It was a clear sunny day and I didn’t want to spook the trout anymore than I had already with the rainbow I caught. 

 A trout came up again pretty near where I saw the rise just seconds ago. I made a side arm cast and laid the small Gray Fox dry in the vicinity. I waited patiently!! The Gray Fox laid on the surface almost motionless. I know that a trout had to see it. I stood puffing on the stogie like a statue gripping the fly rod ready to set the hook on the first sign of a take. And I waited, picturing in my mind when and how big the fish would be. Well, if there was a trout beneath he outlasted me on my first cast. He outlasted me on a couple more tries until I gave up casting on the slow to no current surface flow. I pulled back on the rod and line and made a cast just this side of the good wavy flow across creek. On the drift a trout rose but missed my dry completely. I reared my dry up anyhow knowing that it passed him. Maybe he was surprised seeing the surface fly on the wavy current? Maybe when I lifted it out of the water he may of thought to not be so nonchalant taking the next one. (I know I think too much but it keeps my mind concentrating on the situation at hand.) 

 Growing up I hated when my parents or an adult relative told me to do something because they ‘said so’ without giving me a reason why? There’s always a reason! Same thing with trout fishing. There’s always a reason why a trout won’t bite so I try to think of why or a better way to entice him to take my offering.

 My next cast, upstream on the wavy current, I watched the Gray Fox bob on the waves. The trout came up in a hurry and was more accurate this time. I yanked back the 3 weight and the tip section bowed with a tight line. The 3 weight flexed wildly to and fro as the trout on the other end fought in disbelief. 

 I continued casting out the Gray Fox or a Wooly Bugger for quite some time. I caught trout now and then. It wasn’t one after another but if I picked the right offering one would grab it.   

 I was enjoying this opportunity catching these unsuspecting trout on a dry fly or bugger while puffing on my cigar!  

 When the bite finally stopped I decided to go back up creek and try for that first trout that tried grabbing my bugger but couldn’t. I walked up around so the trout wouldn’t be aware of me. I had a smaller bugger, size #14, that I had tied for my youngest son to fish the small native trout in North Carolina he fishes for. I knotted this to the 6X tippet. I knelt down along the bank upstream from the brushy bank down creek for where I figured he was. I made a gentle cast down creek and let line out till it was near the brushy bank. I felt the quick peck and reared back the rod, probably a little more than I had to. The line tightened and with that the little trout was already headed my way from my forceful pull upstream. Hey, sometimes I get overexcited when I’m pretty sure I’m unexpectedly right!. It wasn’t much of a battle but he was a frisky one darting back and forth as I got him to the net. 

 I caught one more up creek while I was investigating more of the small stream. When my cigar gave out I called it quits.   

 Oh well, it was a fun opportunity. I’m glad the other creeks were high and muddy that got me to venture elsewhere. 

~doubletaper

November Chill

                                                                November Chill

11/20/25

You’ll forget all about your problems, how cold you are and how uncomfortable you are when you’re either dead or hook up to a steelhead!  

It was 34º, at 6:00am, when I left home and headed for Erie to steelhead fish. I figured once daylight hit and by the time I got to Erie, a two-hour drive, the temperature should rise. Wrong! When I pulled in the lot my truck read 28º. I haven’t fished for steelhead below 32º since I don’t know when. I got up to Erie early to be the first one at the place where we finally found a good pod of fish the day before. Brian pulled in about 10 minutes after I did. One thing for sure we were the only vehicles off the road. I figured we’d be the first there? Not!

 We got our waders on and gear and headed to where we wanted to fish. Brian showed me the trout beads he was planning on using. I figured he bought them in Alaska when he was up there in September fishing. I heard that’s what the guides and fishermen use. The box full of beads he showed me looked like colored pearls all the same size. I would imagine if they don’t work he could always sell them to some jewelry maker? The 10 minute or so walk along the path warmed us up. When we were in vision of where we wanted to fish there were already 2 guys fishing, one on each side of the creek. There was enough room for all four of us so that wasn’t a problem. By the time we started to cast a line it didn’t seem to be below 32º and we managed after that.

 The guy on the other side caught a steelhead so the guy on our side crossed the creek, with their net, to help him net the fish. He ended up staying on the far side so Brian and I had our creek side all to ourselves. Brian started off with his trout beads and I started off with a streamer. 

 The day before we fished in a section with a few fish, Brian was the only one to hook a steelhead. We went elsewhere after noon. Brian ended up leaving and my bud Kevin, who came up with me, drove further upstream where I figured that the steelhead would be holding in a deeper run. Sure enough we found them along with only one guy fishing the hole. The steelhead were pretty particular or not hungry at all. I hooked only one steelhead for a second or two. Kevin said he had a couple taps. He wasn’t using an indicator. We left without hooking up. At least I knew where they were though. I planned on coming back up Thursday. Brian said he’d meet me at the same place I found where the steelhead were holding.

 For a while it was like the steelhead were picky. I finally got a hook up with a light shaded sucker spawn. The heaviness of the fish bowed the 7 weight rod into the lower mid section. As the steelhead took off the tip pointed to where the fly line entered the water but the fish was beyond heading up and across creek. I lifted the rod to keep as much line out of the water as the steelhead started head shaking like a lead guitarist, in a hair band, playing a familiar hard rock riff. I could feel my forearm muscles tighten under the constant tugging and pulling of the steelhead and my heart was beating like a drum solo in excitement. 

I knew I had a fair hook. We battled. The whole fight continued with him head shaking trying to get the hook out. He wasn’t making it easy and I wasn’t making it easy on him. Brian grabbed the net as I was backing up to the bank. I wouldn’t let the fish take any more line unless he had a burst of energy. Brian got down creek from him as I raised the rod bringing the steelhead higher in the water column. He scooped up the fat steelhead and I had a big grin on my face. After the past two visits up here fishing for them I had my first steelhead, this season, in the net. 

  Brian hooked up next, soon after, on one of his light colored beads. The fish put up a good fight. After the tough battle I netted the steelhead. It too was a fat one.

 My next hookup was as if the steelhead was in a race to grab it before others in the same race. My indicator took off up creek in a hurry. I tightened the line quickly within my grip to set the hook and then let go, as the line shot through the eyes towards the swift swimming steelhead. I held the rod butt in my gut like an honor guard, trying to hold the flag pole steady, in a windy and gusty parade. The steelhead swam wildly is the big pool like the front man in a rock band on a circular stage! I thought at first it was foul hooked but during the battle I saw the steelhead swimming up creek with the line tightened towards its mouth. He wasn’t giving up easily and It took longer to get him into the net than the last. Once Brian netted him I could see why he wasn’t giving up. He was a big fatty!! 

 For some time after that the steelhead evidently kept their mouths shut. I watched over and over again as Brian drifted his beads, under his float, into a pod of steelhead. They must have had their jaws clamped shut like a bunch of clams. In time Brian gave up and said he had things to do at home and left. After that there was a lull in the action like the next band was late to be present. I accidentally snagged a couple fish but the hook came out during a short melee. 

 A young guy joined me and the guy across the creek. He fished downstream from me in shallower water.  Maybe a little over knee deep but the steelhead were easier to notice. Neither of us were hooking up. I started to cast out sucker spawn in just about every color I had without a strike. I’m not sure what the others were using but the fish just didn’t appear to want any of it. I decided to show them some of my old nymph collection like presenting old, one of a kind, rock and roll memorabilia. I thought I had a bump on one of my depth ray stoneflies but missed. I continued with it for a few more drifts until I got snagged up and lost it. I then knotted on a copper john. On my third drift through the run my indicator went straight under. I lifted the rod for the hook set and the line tightened with a heavy load. The steelhead fought with head shakes and quick turns throughout the pool. Once he quit his energetic maneuvers, like a lead singer starting to perform a slow song, he settled down to holding in the oncoming current. I kept side pressure on him to tire him out forcing him to come my way. The young man, down creek from me, grabbed his net to help net him. I got the steelhead turned downstream and safely got him towards the net and into it. 

 Maybe that’s what they wanted all along? I hooked 2 more steelhead on the copper johns as the sun was setting. 

 I lit up my last cigar and fished for about another hour before taking off. I wanted to get home before it got dark.  

~doubletaper