~StreamSide Tales~: Birthday Trout 2023

Birthday Trout 2023

4/20/2023

She came a day early but I ain’t complaining!

There’s a section of water, along Tionesta Creek, that I’ve been wanting to explore. I knew it would be a long walk down hill upon a trail leading to level ground. The trail actually heads upstream to the level but I’ll have to follow the creek downstream to get to where I actually think would be better fishing. I was busy trying to find trout in a smaller creek in the morning so I didn’t get to this section of water till afternoon. I parked aside the road and made sure my water bottle was filled and had a couple granola bars along with a couple of cigars. The sun was hot and shining down avoiding the moving puffy clouds above most of the time.

As I got to the creek I stepped off the bank into the knee deep wavy water and looked down the wide section of water. The prime spot I wanted to get to was a ways downstream. The rocks and stones, beneath my boots, weren’t all that stable so I couldn’t hurry. As I waded down creek I cast my Woolly Bugger here and there in the knee deep water heading to the shallow riffles. A hatch of Grannoms and black caddis started to appear as I went. I’m sure there were a few stoneflies this time of day but I wasn’t concerned about the hatch until I saw rising trout. By the time I got to the prime spot I wanted to fish I hadn’t caught anything but I was ready for some action.

For the past week I’ve been using my fast action 9’ 5 weight, except for the small creek brook trout fishing, in the Tionesta. It’s not that the 5 weight is all that heavy but casting it all day every day takes it’s toll on the muscles of my casting arm and shoulder. I decided to use my 9’ 4 weight custom rod for the days adventure. It’s a fast action rod also and cuts through the wind pretty well.

The main shallow riffling current flows towards the far side of the creek along the steep bank. There’s boulders and big rocks here and there lining the bank and it looks a lot deeper. On my side of the creek it got knee to thigh high deep just a few feet from the bank. In between it was anywhere from waist to chest high and maybe even deeper further to the far bank. I wasn’t going to chance wading out too far. The sun was shining down putting a reflecting sparkle on the wavy water like flashes of disco lighting on a dance floor. A heavy gust of wind would blow by now and then so I always had to be aware when casting out.

I was casting the Woolly Bugger near the darker water across creek and letting it swing down creek in the lighter shaded water. A trout grabbed it, on the swing, with a good tug. I reared back the rod and my first fish was fighting the line in the oncoming current. I didn’t have too much trouble getting him in the net.

Well, that deserved an afternoon cigar. I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out an Oliva Robusto and lit it up.

I continued to cast out towards the deeper water as I slowly moved down a step or two after each couple of casts. I’d get a bump and maybe a hook up now and then. Since the water was deep enough on my side of the creek I’d make a long cast down creek and strip in the bugger real slow. I wasn’t hooking up continuously but enough bumps and hook ups to keep me entertained while I smoked the stogie.

I made a cast mid-creek with slack in the line to let my bugger drop deep before swinging. Being the water was waist high deep, about 12 feet from the bank where I was standing, I let the bugger swing all the way straight down from me. I felt a slight nudge of a tug and my line quit swinging. I reared back the rod and…

When I set the hook it was if I puncture and ripped a hole in an overinflated pool raft. The fly line flew out of the water and took off down and across stream with propelling force. I gripped the fancy custom cork grip so tight I was hoping I didn’t leave finger indentations in it. I had the drag set a little on the lighter side which I’m glad I did.

I wasn’t sure how far this fish was taking me but I had at least 100 yards of backing as fly line shot through the rod eyes from the spinning spool. When the trout slowed down, mid stream and down quite a ways, I clicked the drag a notch or two tighter holding the rod with one hand with the butt section against my chest waders. The 4 weight rod arced towards the, now hard tugging trout, down creek. She tugged her way into the deeper water across creek with a couple of head shakes. I turned the rod straight down creek and she swam her way back into the waist to thigh high water. There she struggled with the line causing water turbulence on the surface with her underwater yanks and antics. She headed up creek just below the surface so I got to bring in some line. When she passed me I saw this girthy oblong shape below the surface water. The sun shown down on it like the spot light on the main character on stage in a theatrical play. I moved the rod closer to the water surface not wanting her to break the surface. She turned and swam down creek with the current.

I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to get her long body in my net so I had to make a plan while playing this rainbow. I didn’t want a bunch of fly line loose in the water so I reeled in line every chance I got. My first concern was to get her out of the faster current. I moved the rod to put side pressure on her while backing up towards the bank. She moved a few feet towards me but still out a ways. For now I figured I had a good tight hook set from keeping the trout on thus far but one never knows? For the next minute or so it was like trying to bring in an old X-large rubber hip boot in the fluctuating under current. I didn’t want to give her anymore line so when she swam down creek I waded down creek with her. The pressure of the arcing rod and line tension got her into the slower water on my side of the creek but still thigh high water. I had her 12 to 15 feet of me a couple of times but couldn’t get her within net range. When she swam down creek I tried to get her onto the shallow stony creek bed but she didn’t want any part of that and with a swat of her tail propelled herself away causing the rod to arc more and I’d have to let tensioned line slip through my pinching fingers.

It was a struggle trying to figure out how to ‘get her’.

Once, close by, I had the net coming up behind her. I knew this was kind of foolish because I needed to get her heavier upper body into the net first but I was willing to give it a try since she was so close. I had her drifting backwards with her tail almost in the net ready to scoop her up when she swatted and swam forward. Instead of heading midstream she turned between me and the bank. (Since she wouldn’t get near the stony shallows I was standing in thigh high water.) I spun with her trying to keep her from tangling any line around me. I spun 180° as she swam upstream in the slow moving current. I held the rod high, without giving her any line, until she turned and swam down creek again. She was tiring after the long battle and didn’t have the strength any more to forcefully shoot away. I knew I had to get her head and upper body into the net as much as I could.

There I was like I was on the deck side of a waist high round backyard pool hooked to a big fish swimming around in it. She stopped and was holding just above the creek bed like a heel hound laying at my feet. The 4 weight wasn’t strong enough to force her to rise so I could net her. She was being stubborn! Holding the rod high she finally started to drift with the current just down from me. I moved the rod between me and the bank making her swim into the current. She slowly swam, following the rod, like a pedigree in the National Dog Show following it’s handlers lead. I had the net behind her and when I moved the rod towards the water surface put slack in the line. She turned down creek and I got her head and upper body into the net before she could swim around it. I quickly put the rod under my arm pit and grabbed the upper part of the net lifting her out of the water. It was like trying to balance a 15lb turkey in one of those grocery hand baskets to the register line as I was carrying her to the shore. I got her on the grass and had to get her out of the net so I could see her head to get the hook out of her mouth. She laid there without moving. I opened her mouth and unhooked the bugger that was secured in the roof of her mouth. She didn’t move a muscle like her mouth had no feeling from a Novocaine shot.

I tried to revive her a couple of times holding her into the current. I held her by the neck of her tail waiting for her to swat her tail and swim free. I let her go but she just fell to the bottom helplessly. I tried a second time but her gills were barely moving. I didn’t want to take her out into deeper water because if she fell to the bottom, with the current, I might not be able to retrieve her. I reached back in my vest and actually had a yellow rope in it.

I remember when I first started steelhead fishing in Erie tribs I was told I had to have a yellow rope with me. Not that I was ever going to keep a fish but it was kind of a yearly joke.

Anyhow, I didn’t have a knife to gut her and had to carry this heavy trout all the way back to my truck.

I did get some nice thick fillets and they tasted good with butter and Old Bay on Saturday for lunch.