A Young Womans Gem

 

A Young Womans Gem

5/18/22

  I always take time to fish Young Womans Creek anytime I’m up in Potter County fishing Kettle Creek. Being I needed gas and wanted to avoid paying $5.29 a gallon in Cross Fork I decided to take the drive to Renovo and hope gas was cheaper. Since Young Womans Creek is not far I’d fish that for at least the morning. Well, in Renovo I paid $4.99 a gallon so it wasn’t much of a savings for the MPG I spent getting there but it ended up being worth the drive and fishing Young Womans Creek.

  By the time I got to the creek it was near 9am I suppose. The sun was already filtering through the mountain side tree branches. Where the sun rays hit the water the surface shimmered with sunlight. There were already tiny midges hovering and dapping the water like fleas on a mangy outdoor dog. I looked for any risers but the water flowed undisturbed.

  The right branch of Young Womans Creek meanders through the forest away from any hard top road. A section is a delayed Harvest area that is stocked but I’ve caught small wild browns and brook trout hidden in the waters. I never caught anything longer than 10” and so I decided to take a break from my long and weighty rods and use my 3 weight 7’ Diamondglass rod. The water was flowing crystal clear and it was easy to see the stony bottom from some distance therefore long thoughtful casts and low profile approach would be much needed. The tree canopy shades a lot of the stream so under the bright sunlight would be a good place for me to concentrate. 

 

 I started casting a Woolly Bugger but when I saw a sipper against the cement wall, of the bridge, I decided to go for it. I had 5x tippet on but figured, with the clear water, 6x would be less conspicuous and a better tippet for the size caddis I was going to use. I was in the shade of the bridge and couldn’t see the 6x tippet to knot it to my leader very well so I stepped into the sunlight for a better view. The whole time I’m doing this I’d look down creek, on occasion, and I’d see the sipper dimpling the surface. On one occasion, about a foot upstream from the sipper I saw another rise. It could have been the same fish or maybe not. I figured they were just little wild trout filling their belly’s with the tiny midges dapping the water now and then. I thought a small #18 caddis might be an enjoyable and more filling breakfast if I could fool them. After I got everything knotted together I slowly walked into position to cast and stooped down along the bank. I made 5 casts, some within 4” I’d say, from the wall with no reaction. On my next forward cast I laid the #18 caddis right up against the wall with pin point accuracy. It may have drifted a foot along the wall when I saw a subtle rise and swirl the instant my caddis disappeared. I reared back on the glass rod and pulled back line. The line tightened instantly with the hooked trout and when I felt the slow action glass rod bow, almost in the butt section, I knew this wasn’t some small native brook trout or small wild brown. The surface water, under the bridge, swirled from the disturbance beneath of the fighting fish. As he fought trying to shake loose I calmly walked just downstream of the bridge and into the sunlight. He fought angrily within the shadow of the bridge side to side, to and fro, as if he was caught sometime and knew maybe he had a good chance of coming loose. The glass rod bent and rebounded in big whippy arcs with the rod feeling like I was holding a buggy whip caught up in the reins of a trotting harness racing horse. I got him out from the darker water and when he came into the sunlight I saw this butterscotch, long shaped trout sparkling just below the surface. He tugged on his way up creek in water no deeper the knee deep. I held the cork grip tight with my left hand controlling the tension. He swirled around, took to the other side of the creek and swam back under the bridge. The glass rod bowed and followed his every movement. The longer I fought with him the more worried I was that the #18 hook was going to come out. I had a feeling this old trout knew if he kept up his antics he had a good chance of doing just that.

  It took some time to get him close enough to net. The glass rod arced like a horseshoe as I raised it bringing the trout to the net. He squirmed some with tail swats and then calmed down. That’s when I noticed a slight scar below his mouth telling me he was hooked before. Whether he was ever netted before was only him to know. 

 

  I always felt native brook trout were the prettiest and glamorous trout in mountain waters but this old brown held its own beauty. Under the sunlight the red spots glowed like red coral gem stones within light gray halos along with brown smoky quartz spots against his brownish burnt orange sides. His buttery yellow belly lustered brilliantly like a field of buttercup flowers under the sunshine. The #18 hook was caught in his mouth and I’m glad he calmed enough to let me extract it with one quick tug. He flinched a little like when a dentist sticks the needle of Novocain in the gum of your mouth. I got the quick picture and dropped the net into the knee deep water. He swam out under his own power and I watched him nonchalantly swim off back under the bridge. I hooked the caddis to the hook keeper and stood up straight. I pulled out a rewarding cigar and lit it up.

  As I stood there I thought “it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t catch anything else in this creek the rest of the day” though I was hoping it wasn’t so. I decided from then on I was only going to fish dry flies.

  I fished that section downstream without any takers. I drove up creek some to another spot I have done well on. I missed a couple of quick snaps at my dry fly I’m sure were small wild trout in shin deep riffling water. I finally nabbed one and let him loose hoping someday he can grow long and old as the other. 

 

  Around noon I headed back to Kettle Creek hoping for a hatch to do more dry fly fishing.

  Young Womans Creek didn’t disappoint to say the least.

~doubletaper