The Gray Fox

                                                                    The Gray Fox

5/20/25

 From around 10:00am till around 3:00 I missed more trout on dry flies than I could remember. The one’s I did catch should have been embarrassed!

 Even though it was that sulfurs or caddis weren’t coming off till around 10:00 I couldn’t just sit in the camper twiddling my thumbs waiting to leave till then. Besides, the guys in the next site were suited up and leaving to go fish. There were other vehicles passing my camper also on their way to fish. It was only around 8:00 in the morning. The sky was bright and it looked like we were finally going to have a nice day. I couldn’t resist any longer. I got my waders on, packed the truck and left the campground headed down creek to the wider section of Kettle Creek to dry fly fish.

 Where I started I casting out Woolly Buggers figuring I’d pass the time until a hatch started. The water was wavy fast and the trout weren’t biting. Being that no one was around where I was, I decided to just fish my way down creek till I catch a trout or see a rise. Down further I saw my first rise but it was way too far to cast to. The water was too deep to wade out any further. I knotted on a sulfur dry anyhow and continued to wade down creek casting the dry fly.

 I finally saw a rise within distance. I waded out as far as I could, in waist high water, and stood on a flat rock which got me thigh high in the water. I started casting to the one rise I saw. In the next couple of hours more fish rose. Sulfurs, caddis and every once in a while a March Brown would appear and flutter it’s wings to dry them off before taking flight. The trout weren’t rising in a feeding frenzy but only occasionally and rarely at that. I casted out sulfurs, caddis and even a March Brown. I never knew when one would rise to my offering. When they did rise to my dry I missed them. From about 10:00 till about 3:00 I missed so many trout on my dry flies that the ones I did catch should have been embarrassed! 

 I was missing risers whether I drifted my dry down creek, across creek or upstream. It didn’t matter, I just couldn’t hook any. I’d watch the trout turn on my offering and go to grab it, nothing. I watched the trout rise to slurp it in, nothing. I wasn’t sure if I was pulling back too soon. Whatever I was doing wrong I just couldn’t figure it out. I finally got upset around 3 and waded out disappointed and upset.

 Driving up creek every place I thought about fishing there was a vehicle or 2 parked. Even in the Delayed Harvest area vehicles were parked and fly guys were out in the water. I got to the campground and found only 1 SUV parked in the parking space next to the creek. They were getting ready to fish with their conventional rods laying on the roof. I got out and assembled my Powell 4 weight fly rod and headed down the path.

 I stepped down off the bank and into the water. Looking downstream there were already big sulfurs flying around and fish were rising. I got out of the water and up on the bank. I walked a little further down the path and easily stepped into the water nearer where the fish and sulfurs were rising. 

 The water was clear with rolling surface water. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees casting shadows upon the surface.

Sulfurs were coming off pretty regularly fluttering like butterflies looking for a place to rest. Trout were rising sporadically all the way down to the shallows downstream. I waded out just ankle deep trying not to stir up the creek bed. I knotted on a #14 Sulfur and picked the closest riser near me. My cast was upstream from the riser and I watched it drift into its feeding zone. He rose and sucked it in. I’m sure he saw me standing just about 14 feet from where he took my fly. It was too late for him to spit it out as I yanked the rod up and set the hook. He dove down and rattled the tight line flexing the fly rod tip. He darted out away towards the far bank but didn’t get very far for I held the line, tensioned, between my fingers. He gave a couple head shakes like a halfback maybe trying to fake me out as to what his next direction was and loosen my tight grip on the line. It didn’t work. He felt like he was a good size trout so I didn’t force him in but let him use up energy scurrying around like a kid at the playground. A nice size brown trout laid in my net with the sulfur stuck to his upper lip. 

 I caught a few more risers with sulfurs before the sulfurs tapered off. 

  Smaller sulfurs started to appear along with the segmented beige flies that appeared the day or two before. I decided to knot on one of my Gray Fox variants to see if I was right about what I figured they were. I casted out the #14 Gray Fox towards the next riser downstream. It took a couple of drifts before he came up and grabbed it. I yanked the rod back and the line tightened once again on a struggling trout. 

 After that I kept casting out my stash of segmented Gray Fox imitations. I was hooking up with just about every rise I saw. It was like feeding pigeons in the city park.

 While I was having fun, hooking up, a couple of fly guys entered the water up creek. They were dry fly fishing also. I was paying more attention to my own casts and dry flies so I really couldn’t say whether they caught anything but I was sure they saw my tight line now and then. 

 Some fish were rising between me and the other fishermen so I slowly waded upstream casting to the risers. The fellow closest to me let me know he was going to wade behind me heading down creek. I let him know there were still fish rising down there. The other guy kept trying to catch a trout on his dry flies but wasn’t very successful. He let me know he was going to go downstream also. He said there was a trout rising just out from a tree branch across the creek. He told me to get it!

 The area we were fishing was narrower than the wide sections way down creek. The problem with reaching the far side of the creek was that there wasn’t much room for a back cast to get momentum for a longer forward cast. Sometimes it was easier to just roll cast a dry fly towards the far side if you could keep the dry fly afloat. The rise under the tree was in slower water than the faster current in front of me. I knew that once my dry landed the trout only had a few seconds to grab it before the faster current drags my line and dry fly down creek. I made a side arm casts leaving a slacken line behind my dry letting the drifting fly drag free. The trout rose and I quickly pulled the rod and line back and set the hook. I kind of laughed and called out to the other guys, “Got’m!” 

I think I caught one more trout mid-stream where the wavy water calmed down before I called it quits. The last 8 trout I caught were on a Gray Fox. Pretty sly of me. 

~doubletaper

 

Testing 1, 2, 3

                                                                 Testing 1,2,3.
                                                                      6/08/25

  For the past week trout have been rising in the water just out from my camper. I’ve fished over them the first day and another day earlier but not within the past 5 days. I mean, why scare the fish? It would get boring fishing over the same fish everyday. It would be like throwing sticks at yard rabbits every day. They’re like pets. After a while they’d find somewhere else to go. The trout rose to March Browns when I did fish for them as well as an Elk Hair Caddis.
 I came back to the camper from the Big Foot Festival Saturday evening and there were fish rising everywhere along the section of Tionesta Creek outside the camper. Mayflies were coming off the water in bunches. I suppose it would be like finding yourself in a blueberry patch while hiking without a basket to put the berries in. You’ll just gorge yourself till you had enough. This is just what the trout appeared to be doing at will.
 I actually took a step in the creek, with slip-on llBean’s, and grabbed a fly near the bank. I was pretty sure it was a Brown Drake. There were smaller mayflies appearing also but one wouldn’t come close enough to be caught. I took the Brown Drake to the camper for a reference when I decide to tie some up, in which I did. 

 Sunday morning, after breakfast, I tied up some March Browns and some Brown Drake imitations. I tied up two different patterns of Brown Drakes.
 Around 10:00 March Browns started to come off the water in spurts. Though the water was stained a light brown, trout had no problem finding the MB’s fluttering or drifting on the surface. I knotted on a March Brown imitation and was hooking up pretty frequently to the risers I was able to reach, even though the water was a bit stained brown.   

 After a nice brown trout grabbed one of my March Brown imitations, like fooling a young bride to be with a Cubic zirconia engagement ring, I wanted to see if a trout would rise to one of my Brown Drake imitations. 

 I was never a believer that trout knew when a hatch quits or they know what time a hatch starts. I figured if trout are used to eating certain mayflies or caddis, if they’re hungry, they are going to eat them no matter what time of day it is. And especially the same flies after an evening hatch the night before. Now if there is a heavy hatch going on then maybe the trout will key on the hatch and not another fly. I mean if there is a special price, at the jewelry store, on a certain pendant I would think most buyers will buy that pendant and not another.
 I knotted on a Brown Drake and casted out to the risers. It took a little convincing but after missing one and hooking one I was convinced the less pickiest trout will take the Brown Drake.

  Now, my Brown Drake pattern doesn’t look anything like my March Brown pattern. My Brown Drake is tied on a #10 3x long hook, brown body and either a deer hair wing or mallard flank feather wing with medium blue dun hackle. My March Browns are more of a beige body on Tionesta on a #12 1x long hook. I tie it with a brown rib, wood duck feather for a wing and, hard to find, barred golden straw hackle. So telling those two apart is very easy. (Unlike the March Browns that come off on Kettle Creek that are a much orangish-beige body.) This is why I tie my own flies instead of buying them on line. The Mayflies on different creeks and rivers will vary by color and size which I feel is important.

 After hooking and teasing the trout within my casting ability I decided to go up creek. There were trout rising pretty often up creek. The sun was overhead by now and I was getting pretty hot from dressing for the early chill. I went back to the camper, undressed some, and walked up the creek to the risers.
 While fishing to the risers with the March Brown and occasionally one of the Brown Drakes I was wondering if a trout would take a caddis. I casted out a deer hair caddis with a dark body but couldn’t get a trout to commit. I knotted on a bigger elk hair caddis and tossed it out. I had been doing well with an elk hair caddis wherever I’d be fishing on Tionesta Creek. I had three risers for the caddis and netted two.   

 Now, that confirmed my thinking. If there isn’t a prolific hatch of one or two kinds of Mayflies, or caddis, trout will take something they have eaten recently in the past couple of days. 
 I found out that even the small sippers aren’t always smaller trout. Also some of the bigger trout I caught were mid-creek and not hugging the far bank which is usually the case when the creek water is very low.
 All of a sudden a trout slapped the surface twice not too far upstream from me. It was if he missed an emerger first and then got it the second time,,, maybe? I already had a March Brown knotted on and made a cast upstream quite a bit in front of his feeding zone. I was pulling in slack line as my offering came towards us. I saw the trout rise and sip it off the surface. I reared back the 9 foot rod and pulled in line to set the hook. The line tightened and he dove deep. He took off in a hurry as if he had just stolen a priceless neckless off the jewelry counter. The rod bowed in his favor and line stripped off the reel as the spool spun. I knew I had something special that I hooked in the middle of the creek. We had a good go around before I convinced him to settle down and come to me. A beauty of a butter belly brown laid in my net with the March Brown I offered him just on the tip of his upper jaw. Fighting with him much longer may have gotten the hook released? 

 There’s nothing I enjoy more dry fly fishing than making a long cast to an unexpecting trout. One had been feeding close to the far bank just out from a low hanging tree limb. I waded a little further out for more room for my backcasting. I made a looping single haul cast towards the far bank. The fly line unrolled in the air followed by my March Brown. My cast was a little short of the slower water he was feeding in but I let it drift over the wavier water near him. He rose and grabbed it on the wavier water. I chuckled as I reared back the long length of line forcefully to get the long length of slack off the water. The line tightened and I’m sure the trout, on the other end, was surprised. We had a good tussle and when I finally netted him I found my dry was just inside his mouth. He was pretty sure it was the real thing. I had to hold him delicately upside down to reach in to get the hook out. It wasn’t as bad as I would of expected and came out easily. I released another nice brown trout unharmed. 

  The one trout I was after, down creek a ways, wasn’t cooperating until I skated a caddis across the surface and ‘Gotcha”.   

 I caught more trout on this outing on March Brown dries tied Catskills style. I didn’t have any trout take my para-post March Brown which I was surprised. Maybe because the water was calm with gentler flowing surface current. I usually do better on the para-post on riffling or wavy current where the trout have less time to inspect it.   

 When it started to rain, more than a sprinkle, I waded out and headed to the camper. Tomorrow was another day and I didn’t think the trout were going anywhere! 

~doubletaper.
                                                                                                                                  

5:00 Somewhere

                                                                5:00 Somewhere 

6/04/25 

 I was fishing somewhere on Tionesta Creek I never fished before. It was near 8:30 in the morning and I was casting a Woolly Bugger in rough wavy water. It didn’t look any deeper than waist high but it looked to be deeper just beyond the waves, where it turned into slower wavy surface current. The hot sun was behind me heating things up like the inside a food truck preparing hot food. It felt like I had a heating pad on my back. I hadn’t caught anything but continued to slowly wade downstream until I was able to let my bugger drift into the tail out. You would of thought I opened up the food truck window. The special was lime flavored buggers and tan elk hair caddis with a body flavor of ginger. 

 Trout after trout were grabbing the bugger as if they each were in line for the next order. When I saw one rise for something I offered them a dry Elk Hair special. I had hooked three on the ginger body caddis. One threw the hook but hey that happens. He must have not liked the ginger flavor. I had some trout spit the bugger also before they landed in the basket.   

 

 When I had no more takers I waded out to the far side and went up creek where there was a wide section of water. Riffling water emptied into a long stretch of wide calmer water leading to where I was fishing. 

 I started casting Woolly Buggers as far as I could cast from the waist high water I was wading through. I’d catch a trout now and then but there were long pauses in between.  

 There where  few rises as I waded but only 2 were within my casting distance. I knotted on and casted a small variety of flavored caddis but couldn’t get a buyer. I went back to the bugger, lit a cigar and continued on. I caught another trout on the bugger before I got to where I started.  

 When I got to where I started there were trout rising sporadically. I saw one sulfur come off the water and March Browns that would appear on the water fluttering their wings before taking off. There were also small caddis and some mayfly I couldn’t identify in the #16 or even #18 range. Well, I knotted on a variety of sulfurs, March Browns and caddis. You would of thought I opened the food truck again and the special was March Browns. Their choices were Catskills Style or para-post style. The caddis were chocolate or ginger. I was having fun hooking up with the rainbows on my dry flies. I missed quite a few and some were so picky they didn’t like my offering at all.  

  There was this one trout right out from me across creek no more than 20 yards away. I missed him twice on a March Brown. Both times I saw him rise and turn on my offering and I missed the hook up. I’m not sure if I lifted the MB off the water before he actually grabbed it being I saw him rise for it and didn’t wait for him. Anyhow, when the March Browns practically died off and trout weren’t rising much I figured they had sore lips or upset stomachs from this morning meal or just recently. There were still a couple risers now and then. I caught one unsuspecting trout near the far bank down creek with a long cast. He was pretty upset. He gave me a good struggle all the way to the basket. 

 I decided to concentrate on the trout in front of me I missed a couple of times earlier. I hadn’t casted to him for a while. Being that the MB hatch died off and I couldn’t see anything else happening on the surface I decided to knot on an oversized elk hair ginger caddis. I just figured if there are trout out there that didn’t get their bellies filled, and seeing no choice food around, they might want a hearty snack. It took 3 casts to finally get that trout in front of me to rise. I saw him rise and slap at the caddis a little upstream than where I thought he would be. I hurriedly lifted the rod up and downstream over my left shoulder. I felt the rod sections bow with a tight line and a heavy weight on the other end. I hooked’em! 

 I don’t know how fast a ‘bat out of hell’ flies away but you would of thought the trout bit into a habanero pepper and was hurrying to find cold water and try and spit it out. He raced across stream and turned down creek quickly pulling line. Sometime down creek he leaped out of the water trying to shake off that habanero caddis off his lips. He plunged into the water and rose again just breaking the surface shaking his head. The caddis didn’t come loose so I knew I had a good hold on him. He fought not knowing what was on the other end of the line he was attached to. I wasn’t sure if he ever been caught before but he was pretty upset about it. I got him swimming upstream and within netting distance. I lowered the rod and he turned to swim down creek but it was too late. I scooped him up like scooping french fries in the wire basket out of the fryer!

 

 After that I didn’t see anymore risers. The sun was hot and I was sweating. I called it a day and headed to the truck.

 Back at camp I enjoyed a frozen Margarita before supper. It was still early but I knew it had to be 5:00 somewhere! 

 That evening I made a campfire and enjoyed a cigar that a neighbor camper gave me up in Ole’ Bull campground. Before dark, while enjoying my cigar, I watched trout rising out on the water while I sat by the campfire.   

~doubletaper 

Expert Advice

                                                                     Expert Advice

5/30/25

  Of course I talk to myself. Sometimes I need expert advice 

 I set up camp on Thursday in the rain in the ANF along Tionesta Creek. The creek water, when I set up, was moderately low and clear. The heavy rain lasted about an hour or so and muddied the creek up and rose. Overnight it may have sprinkled some.

Friday it was a foggy morning when I walked out of the camper to check on the creek condition. The water receded a lot and cleared up to a light brown. 

   After breakfast I suited up. By then the morning sun was beginning to rise above the cliff side trees. Though it was a chilly morning it looked like it was going to be a half decent day.

 I drove down creek to a section I was hoping to catch some trout. When I got to the creek I found it was muddier than back at camp. After a few casts I advised myself to head back to the camper and fish where it’s not as cloudy. That turned out to be good advice.

 After parking at the camper I walked up the road to where I wanted to start fishing. The water had cleared up nicely. Not gin clear but clear enough the trout should see my offerings from a distance. The water was still higher than what I would of liked but I’d deal with it. 

 I waded out to thigh high depth to make room for clear backcasting from the many green leafed tree limbs along shore. The creek was still half shaded but I was hoping the sunlight would cover the water quickly and possibly for some Mayfly or caddis activity. I started casting a Woolly Bugger as I slowly waded step by step down creek. I’d cast as far as possible towards the far side. I was in no way near the opposite bank like I would of liked for it was too deep to wade to the center of the creek. I caught a trout just before the sun overtook the water. 

 The calm current reflected the sunlight and sparkled like silver pinwheel lawn ornaments twirling in the wind. I was able to see faint signs of boulders beneath the surface as I casted. The leaves on the trees that lined the banks were still wet from the overnight sprinkles. Under the reflection of the sun the wet leaves flickered and blinked like Christmas tree lights as a breeze swept by. The far side cliff dripped water off its rocky ledges. In some places the water fell off the ledges like narrow waterfalls that eventually entered the main creek through man made pipes spread out along the far bank. It wasn’t long before I was able to feel the cold water upon my thighs as it flowed with the swirling currents. I lit a cigar after my second catch and proceeded on.

  As the sun rose higher, and shown down upon me, its warmth took the chill away. Decent size sulfurs started to appear but not in great numbers. Caddis, as usual, fluttered about with some dropping and dapping the water surface and then quickly rise and disappear. As I casted the Woolly Bugger I watched every caddis, sulfur or what ever mayfly that drifted upon the surface or emerged out of the water. I kept telling myself that sooner or later a trout is going to rise to one or the other.

 On a backcast my bugger caught a tree limb behind me as I started to cast forward. The tippet snapped leaving my bugger somewhere up in the branches. I waded to the trees and searched for the bugger or my tippet hanging from a limb but it wasn’t to be so. I knotted on more tippet and as I was picking another Woolly Bugger out of my fly box I happen to look up just in time to see a trout rise. I grinned to myself! I put the bugger on my fly patch and put my fly box back into my vest pocket. There was no hurry knotting on a dry fly, he wasn’t going anywhere and there wasn’t much in the way of a hatch going on that he’d get his belly full.

 I selected a #14 para-dun yellowish body sulfur, that was 1x long, and knotted it to my tippet. I thought that would be easier to see on the stained surface. I doped the body with dry fly gel and waded out within distance of the riser. As I was wading out another, or maybe the same trout, rose again a few feet from where I saw the first rise. I made a false cast or two to get line out and tossed towards the direction of the rise. I watched my dry drift into its zone but he didn’t come up for it. There wasn’t much activity on the water so I doubted he was going to be picky. My second cast was drifting and he came up sooner than when I expected but I was ready at all times. I quickly yanked the rod tip up over my right shoulder and the line tightened with a splash on the other end. “Gotcha!” 

 He swam erratically in the current down and across. I let tension line slip through my fingers getting a feel for how big he may be. He didn’t feel all that heavy but fought well in the oncoming current. I got him nearer to me and lifted him into my net. He squirmed around as if looking for a way out. He finally settled down enough for me to get the hook out and a quick picture. By the looks he’s been in the creek for a while and wasn’t this year’s stockie.

 I casted the sulfur out to try and get the second riser to rise but it wasn’t so. I figured it was the same trout anyway. Not seeing any trout rising I went back to the woolly bugger momentarily. When I saw another rise. I knotted on an Elk hair caddis. A breeze caught my caddis in mid air and my dry landed just about where the rise was and not upstream where I wanted it to go. The trout grabbed my dry just about as soon as it hit the water. I reared back the rod and pulled the slack out of the line as quick as I could. The line tightened and another unsuspecting trout was on the other end fighting for dear life. 

 I waded and fished my way towards camp. I switched to the bugger or a dry fly on my way. I caught a couple more trout and missed one.  

  By the time I got in front of the camper it was nearing noon. The sun was high above shining down like a big spot light. I waded out and went up to the camper for a drink before heading back. Butterflies were gathered outside the camper on the dirt ground. They looked like they were having some kind of a meeting.

 After relaxing a bit I waded back into the creek. I lit a cigar and looked down creek.

  There were a couple of rises I saw pretty far down. I figured I’d fish the bugger until I got near the risers. I hooked into a couple of smaller trout on the bugger before I got near a riser. I caught one nice brown trout on the bugger before I got within range of the riser. He too looked like he set up a home in the creek a couple of years back. 

  I knotted on a #14 Elk hair caddis. A trout was well within casting distance. On my first drift near his feeding zone he sucked up the caddis like it was hand fed to him. He evidently had no idea I was around. After the hook up he sprung up out of the water twisting and turning trying to shake the hook. He plopped back into the water with a splash and sped off. He didn’t get very far as I pinched the line. The rod section arced a little more. The 5 weight 9’ Icon rod was too much to handle for the trout and I was able to bring him in without too much trouble. 

 Well I continued down creek casting the elk hair caddis. I caught sight of a dimple and a swirl on the surface down creek from me. It was pretty near me so I didn’t want to move scaring the trout. I’m not all that confident in hooking a trout fishing upstream but I’ll give it a try if necessary. I advised myself it was necessary this time. 

 I made a sidearm cast upstream looping the fly line so it didn’t fall over the trouts head or making a splash near him. Stopping the rod tip short, my caddis swung in the air and landed on the surface up creek pretty much where I wanted it. The drift should put the caddis this side of the trout and not right over its head. As I took in line, as the water was flowing towards me, I was ready for a rise at my caddis. The moment it happened, to the unexpecting trout, I lifted the rod up and back and pinched the line tight. I felt the rod bow and line tightened at an angle of the take. The trout surfaced briefly, splashing on the surface like a young toddler in a bathtub. He took off deeper and I let him take some line while tensioning the fly line between my fingers. He felt like a wild one with quick turns and tugs. After a bit of his antics, down creek, I took control by swinging the rod up creek and pinching the line tight. He tried to pull the line out of my pinched fingers but I didn’t give in. The 5 weight rod may of bowed a little more but I knew the resistance would be greater than his strength by now. He tried to pull back, but with the rod resistance he came closer to me down creek. Keeping the pressure on he began to swim up creek to meet me. Once near me he didn’t have much fight left and I was able to net him. He was a nice size rainbow with my caddis stuck in his upper lip.  

 Down creek I came to the shallower riffling water. I knotted on the Woolly Bugger and casted it out towards the far bank where it looked deeper. I let it swing into deeper calmer water. Little by little I let more line out on each cast and swing. I finally got a bite and set the hook. Trying to get him up through the fast wavy current wasn’t easy and I lost him. I caught another on the bugger but this time I was able to get him close enough to net. 

 After hooking another and losing him also I called it quits. The fast choppy current flowed for quite a distance. I convinced myself not to fight the current wading through it or following it to the tail out. 

I think that was sound advice. I waded out and headed back to the camper.

  

 ~doubletaper