Mary Kay, Wine and a Lunker!
11/15/25
The kitchen counter was filled with snacks and finger food. The dining room table, china closet and book shelf was filled with Mary Kay products with a Christmassy theme. The GF’s Mary Kay open house was from 11am to 6pm so I had to get out of the house and find something to do.
I decided to go trout fishing. I loaded up my truck with my gear and headed to Volant to fish Neshannock Creek. The state had stocked the Artificial lure only project area of the creek back in early October and the fly shop float stocked their Lunker trout fund with Lunker size trout. Like a women using MK cosmetics, and was coming to the open house, wanting to see and buy the new products, I was going down to get me a Lunker!
In the parking lot my buddy, Kevin, was already getting his gear on. I gave him some Triple Threat streamers I had tied for him and he gave me a bottle of his home made wine. I thought that was a fair trade.
Kevin connected first with one of the triple threats. I wasn’t near him but I saw he had a decent size trout. He said it was a brown. Just after that I hooked up to a trout but got off in a matter of seconds with a triple threat. That’s when I realized I didn’t have my hemostats or split shots. I suppose it’s like a women at the open house looking in her purse and finding out she left her checkbook in the car. I waded out and went back to the truck and got my hemostats and split shots.
Back at the creek, the guy between Kevin and I took my spot. No matter, I told him, there was plenty of other places to fish. It was a long and slow process, without a bite, trying to get another trout. Out of the 5 other fishermen, nymph fishing, I only saw one guy catch a trout. Kevin and I didn’t move too far from the deep hole by the shop to very far down stream and still couldn’t find a hungry trout. For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon us or the other fishermen were having a tough time finding a hungry trout. Just after noon Kevin had his friend call him and he took off to go sight their guns in. I fished a bit from where we started with triple threats and woolly buggers before I decided to fish wading down creek quite a ways.
I hooked up to two trout on a triple threats but they found their way to get themselves unstuck before I got them near me. I caught one nice rainbow in the rough water downstream with a Woolly Bugger. It looked like he was having a bad day. He could have used some make up for the picture.
I was within vision of the shop and saw only two guys fishing. I fished down creek from them and it wasn’t long before they gave up and headed out. Looking up and down the creek I had the whole creek to myself to explore once more. The way things were going though, if it wasn’t for the MK open house I would have left. Yes, I hooked a couple trout already but not as often as I would have liked.
Up where I started I knotted on my favorite Woolly Bugger, puffed on the cigar and decided to just fish till I felt it was time to go. That would take an hour or so, to drive home around 6:00.
I casted out towards the far bank and let the bugger swing down creek. On one occasion I felt a tap and noticed the arc in my floating fly line pull a bit. I reared back the rod and sure enough a trout was on the other end. It was as if he just picked up the bugger, like a women picking up a bottle not sure if she really wanted it or not. The take was so subtle that if it wasn’t for me seeing the slight pull on the floating fly line I would have never noticed the take until it may had been too late. The trout fought like a lazy fish without much vigor. Maybe he had been caught before and didn’t feel like wasting too much energy? Any how it gave me a little hope in these later hours.
I continued wading down stream slowly casting out the Wooly Bugger. I added weight when I was fishing the deeper water and took the weight off when it started to hang up some in shallower water. I was taking my good old time trying to waste time casting out as I wadded down creek. One long cast dropped my bugger towards the far bank and I watched the floating line as the bugger swung down creek. All of a sudden, before the line straightened out, I felt a good grab and watched the floating line sink. I reared back the rod instantly over my left shoulder and felt the fly rod arc almost in the butt section with a tight line. A trout rose immediately, half out of the water, twisting and turning splashing water in all directions trying to shake loose. I tightened my grip on the cork and waited for his next move. He went under with ferocious tugs and pulls as he began to swim up creek. It wasn’t long before he surfaced again, half out of the water, with more ungraceful twisting and turning. I saw I had one of those lunkers. He went back under and swam down creek. I only had 4 pound test tippet so I wasn’t going to try to horse him in. Downstream he turned and swam up creek still tugging the line. I could feel the rod sections fluctuate with each tug and pull. Once he got across from me I moved the rod to put side pressure on him. He evidently didn’t like it and rose one last time in disagreement. He went deep again and headed down creek. After a time I could tell by the way he was swimming he was tiring out, so I thought, and clicked the drag a notch tighter. Down creek I started to force him my way, holding the arced rod tightly and reeling in some line. He followed momentarily until he got within his sight of me. It was like I had a disgusting cologne on and he forcefully turned away and down creek and took off like a heavy truck load of logs straight on a down hill run. There was no holding him back. Again line peeled off the spool and slid through each section eye. The drag kept tension on him and with the arced rod resistance he didn’t go very far before turning my way. Twice I had him near me but twice more he avoided getting any closer with powerful heavy turns. I was in shin deep water and moved the rod to get him towards the bank but he had no intentions on getting beached and swam in the opposite direction. Twice more I had him within net distance but upon seeing the net he turned and finned himself away.
This was taking too long. Once near me I was able to see my bugger in the crook in his jaw so I knew I had a good hook set but playing so much I wasn’t sure it was going to hold much longer. Swimming near me I raised the rod with the fly line pinched between my finger and the cork handle. I had my net ready so scoop him up. He was just under the surface when I reached out and was able to get most of his body in the net as he flopped around, his tail outside the brim of the wooden net frame. I carried it to the bank knowing that I wouldn’t be able to handle the heaviness of him in the net to get a picture or even trying getting the hook out of his jaw. On the bank I got a quick picture and got the hook out without much problem. I laid him in the water for one last picture. I then grabbed him by the neck of his tail and faced him into the slow current until I felt his tail swipe and I let him swim free. I wasn’t sure he was about his wits yet as it looked like he wasn’t sure which way to go. I slowly started to follow him and in the deeper bank-side water he finally took off healthfully towards the main body of water.
Back at the truck I changed into street clothes. Though I already smoked two cigars to pass the time I felt I really deserved one more for the drive home. Before I left the parking lot it was near 4:40. It was a good hour or so drive home.
On the drive back towards home I thought that I know I wouldn’t have stayed so long fishing if it weren’t for avoiding the Mary Kay open house.
~doubletaper
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