Gusty Flurries

                                                                  Gusty Flurries

4/29/25

 I walked out of the camper to check the water level of Tionesta Creek. The water level had dropped but still looked kinda high. The water wasn’t as mud cloudy as the past few days due to the rain storms the past weekend. The water had a green cast to it but maybe it was because of the reflection of the olive hemlocks that lined the creek. Either way it looked deeper than I would have liked. For now the breeze was mellow and the sun was still rising above the tree line but was promising to be a clear sunshine day.

 Back at the camper I put on my fishing wear and dressed warm. It was in the lower 40’s but like I said I was excited to get out. Driving up creek I made my fist stop at a well fished run. Not that I expected every fish to be caught in that area but I figure I might hook a few strays.

  Down along the bank the water wasn’t as muddy but higher than I expected so I couldn’t venture too far from the bank for clearer backcasting. Sure I could of went to a smaller creek where the water would be clear and promising but today I was determined to catch trout in the Tionesta! 

 I started off with a few color Woolly Buggers and hooked one trout on an Olive bugger. 

 That was the only one I got a hook into. I tried nymph fishing but it didn’t work either. The trout must be full from the wash down food from the recent storm or they weren’t hungry. Maybe I just didn’t have the right choice that looked good for an early meal.

I hung around and tried my best. Gusts of wind started to get pretty common. I couldn’t wade out as far as I wanted because of the deeper water. If I timed it right I would be able to get my offering just beyond half the width of the creek but it was more forceful even with the fast action rod. Besides that the wind played tricks where it wasn’t easy for me to make pinpoint casts to where I wanted the bugger to land. I happen to put on a brown bugger and got a hook up in the faster water. 

 After that I stuck with the brown bugger and missed 2 short strikes and one I hooked but shook loose at the net. Maybe brown was the color? Just maybe it looks like a drowned night crawler washed down creek by the recent stormy high water? Maybe it looked like a crawfish tumbling in the current? Whatever the reason it appeared brown was the color of the day! After a while  I waded out and drove upstream.

 I parked near the creek and put my fly gear back on. I reattached the Icon 5 weight and grabbed another cigar. Down at the creek I looked it over. The water was much calmer and I wouldn’t have strong undercurrent to contend with. I figured I’d fish down creek till I want to quit. It’s a long straight flat stretch with good current flow. I kept the brown bugger on and added just enough weight to get it down below the surface well enough to get any bottom holding trout attention. I looked up and the cloud cover didn’t look promising. It didn’t smell or feel like rain but it covered the sun and looked like bad weather was on the rise.

 Not far from the bank I roll cast and had a quick hit. It wasn’t a hard take but just a bump as if the trout was tasting the tail to see if he liked the flavor. It didn’t hit again so maybe the bugger just bumped a bottom boulder. 

 I was able to wade out a quarter of a ways across creek. I looked down creek and it looked like a long venture. I wasn’t sure I’d wade it to the wavy water down creek but I was going to take my time and cover the water as best I could. I lit a stogie for the time being and began my journey down creek at a slow pace. 

 Casting out as far as I was able, comfortably, I would often enough get a strike on my brown bugger. Sometimes it would be just a short bump and not again but other times a trout grabbed it on the swing not wanting it to get away. A nice rainbow bumped the bugger just about at the end of the swing. I missed it on the first bump but let the bugger drift down creek. The rainbow struck again and I reared back the rod and line. The line tightened and I said to myself  “got you that time!” with a smile on my face. 

 He was a fierce competitor. During the skirmish he broke the surface, half out of the water, twisting and turning shaking his head trying to undo the hook stuck in his jaw. That’s when I knew I had a nice rainbow. Underneath he fought with more tugging head shakes. I played him well and got him to the net safely. The brown bugger still attached to his jaw. 

 Continuing on it got more difficult casting against the gusts of wind. Sometimes I just had to let the bugger stay stagnant downstream under water till the wind settled down. Sometimes though the gusts of wind would surprise me! If the gusts were during my forward cast wasn’t as bad than during my back cast. Forward casting the bugger would blow upstream. If there was too much slack in my line I would find my bugger got twisted up with my lead weight. If the gust of wind surprised me on my back cast my bugger, or tippet, would get caught around my welded loop of my fly line. It was frustrating at times untangling the mess. Sometimes I just had to nip off the bugger to untangle the line. Other times it got so bad I just nipped off the tippet and retied new tippet on. I wasn’t in any hurry so I patiently did what needed to be done while smoking my cigar.

 One such drift almost caught me by surprise. I thought I felt a bump as I saw my line drift over a subsurface boulder out 3/4 across creek. I quickly raised the rod trying to avoid a snag. When I raised the rod I saw a flash as a fish grabbed the bugger as if it was a crawdad hopping off the bottom, back swimming, with claws out trying to avoid a confrontation. The trout grabbed the bugger and took off with it. The slack line, from lifting the rod, all of a sudden tightened and the line slipped out of my fingers. The rod tip bowed towards the fleeing trout as line shot through the guides. The trout B-Lined towards the far bank as if it had an escape route. I clasped the line between my fingers and put tension on the line. This slowed him down a bit and I think that is when he knew this wasn’t an easy crawdad meal that was pinching him in the lip. 

 We had a good go around of who could outsmart who? He had some hard tugging jolts and every once during the battle I’d jerk the rod back with authority giving him a returning tug. I got him tired out enough he came to the net without tugging as much. It was a nice husky rainbow. 

  I figured that maybe there was another trout near by. I didn’t move as much and made sure I covered the area with the brown bugger thoroughly. Getting a good cast across creek, timing the wind, my bugger fell upstream with the fly line looping downstream. I watched the fly line as the bugger was catching up to the swig of the line. The line stopped momentarily and was pulled upstream. I quickly pulled the rod downstream trying to straighten the line while pulling fly line in with my left. Out quite a ways I saw a flash of a fish turn as my line tightened. Well, he didn’t appear to like the idea that he’d been fooled. He took off down creek, with the current, like a launched water jet toy. With tension on the line he turned my way but there was a long length of line I had to get him to come my way without him getting off. 

 He came to the surface a few times jerking the line but the hook must have been pretty secure. At times the rod flexed, as we went back and forth while I was bringing him towards me. The rod wavered like a string attached to a butterfly yo-yo! He fumbled around near the net but I got him in it before the hook came loose. 

 Now these were trout stocked some time ago and not recently. Maybe some were holdovers from past years. This rainbow looked like it just came out of the high end fashion store all dressed and spiffed up for dinner.  

 After that catch I continued on. It wasn’t very far from the last catch I caught another unsuspecting trout that grabbed my bugger. We had a good battle also with me winning again and getting him into my net safely. 

 After that catch I lit my last cigar I had in my pocket. I fished another 1/2 hour or so before calling it a day. The wind got more common and fierce without a break. Trying to cast just wasn’t feasible without some kind of line twisting, tangling or offering coming back at me like something was being thrown in my direction.

 Back at camp I fired up the grille and treated myself to a venison butterfly back strap dinner!

~doubletaper