'Purist' on the Wtaer

‘Purist’ on the Water
6/13/15

 

  It was time to try out my newest purchase; a 7’9” ‘Purist’ Wonderod Fly Rod. It calls for a 6 weight line. A little overkill for the trout stream I’d be fishing in but that’s what it calls for.
 The cigar cork grip fit nicely in the palm of my hand. I noticed immediately this glass rod was a lot whippier than the ‘Custom Pro’ rod I used earlier in the week. It could be because it’s 9” longer than the Custom Pro or that’s just the way the action is made. Anyway, I’m sure it would take a little time to get used to.
 There was a possibility of a passing thunderstorm so I decided to wear my light fishing rain jacket. I stuffed the pockets with the gear I figured I needed. I was going to be on the creek for maybe 5 hours or so and be pretty far away from the van so I also took a bottle of water. Along with that a few cigars and of course my camera. After attaching the Orvis mid arbor, with 6 weight fly line, to the down locking cork reel seat, it was about 1:30pm when I started down the path to the creek through the forest.

 

  I waited for the rod to load behind me and cast out, mid creek, into the wavy current run. The first drift through, of the Woolly Bugger, produced nothing. A cast further out, towards the far bank, dropped the bugger into the current and, with a little mend, sent it on its way. Wham! I felt the strike and watched the fiberglass rod bow with the tight line caused by a hungry trout. The trout tugged and pulled with the current as the ‘glass’ rod bowed and flexed effortlessly with the struggling trout. Swinging the rod towards my side of the bank, the trout swam out of the faster current and towards me. One trout netted and many more to follow, I hoped.

 

 

 After another catch I looked down creek and decided to try and coax a few trout in the deeper pool. I knew the best way was to keep twitching the rod tip now and then, in the slow pool, to put more action on the bugger. I caught a few more, and missed a couple, before moving along and getting away from the other anglers that were also fishing the same pool.

 

 Around the bend I came to a straight stretch of water. I pretty much know this creek like the back of my hand. With the water a little tinted and with good depth all around I figured the trout would be out from hiding along the banks and undercuts. Hopefully they would be scattered about and hungry so I can keep moving down creek and catching fish as I go.

  The forest boasts its green foliage along the creek banks under the bright sky. Unseen birds chirped among the variety of trees and brush. The creek flowed flawlessly to no end, vacant of human inhabitants, and as peaceful as a lone fisherman would want. 
 I made my way down creek staying in the shallower parts and fishing the deeper and faster runs. This meant crossing the creek often so I was careful of the loose small rocks or bigger rocks as I wade.

 The rainbow took the bugger as I stripped it in at small intervals. It was a sweeping take and I just happen to jerk the rod back at the right time. It struggled with the line beneath and even rose to the surface with splashes before I finally got it close enough to net.

 

 My cast was cross creek ahead of some overhanging leafy branches. It was more of a sidearm cast but with the slow action perfect timing and a lot of force was needed to keep the weighted bugger from dropping to close to the water before entering beyond. I watched the fly line and felt a short strike but not very forceful. I kept an eye on the rod tip and the next time it just so twitched I pulled back. The trout on the other end darted and scurried about under the pressure of the rod. It wasn’t long before a nice Brook trout came to net.

 

 Not moving an inch I cast again and another brook trout grabbed the bugger. He too scurried about with a little more pull and force. The Wonderod just did its thing of keeping the trout under control without any cause to worry about any quick jolts and breaking the tippet.

 

Down creek I got into a nice fight with a frisky rainbow. He took the bugger with a forceful grab and from there he went into a raging fit for such a smaller trout. He flipped out of the water twice and still had energy to battle some before coming in close enough to net.

 

 I was having a field day as trout after trout were targeting my bugger as I let it gently drift through the slow currents. In the faster runs I let is run deep and it wasn’t until the bugger slowed to a smooth drift that the trout were able to get a good grip on it.
 The Brook trout would scurry about making the rod tip dance in every direction. The frisky rainbows fought with vigor always trying to throw the hook.

 

 I don’t carry a watch but I figured it had to be getting near 5:00 by now. The air was hot and it was quite warm in the rain jacket. After taking a gulp of water I decided it was time for a smoke. I lit up a Torano and relaxed a bit before proceeding.

 

 My cast was along the far bank up against some deadfalls. The flow of water rippled along side the exposed wood and through a few outward branches. As the Woolly Bugger cleared the branches, beneath, the arc in the line started to straighten. I held the cork firmly waiting any second for a take. Sure enough I saw the line swing away with a sweeping, tugging yank. I held the rod high as I had a lot of line out. The trout fought fearfully but again the Purist rod gave no inkling of undo pressure as it only flexed deeper in the shaft controlling the situation at hand.

 

  Down stream I came across a couple of risers. I didn’t notice anything on the water except a few midges now and again. I contemplated after a few more caught fish on the bugger and decided to try my beetle pattern.

 Right across from me, along the far bank, a fish rose. I didn’t have much casting room behind me because I was lower than the bank and tall leafy bush branches extended along the bank. I cautiously waded down creek and attempted to cast the beetle within his feeding zone upstream.
 Now, dry fly fishing I find one of the hardest things is for me to hook a fish casting up creek.
 I looped a forceful cast up across creek far enough the beetle should enter its path. The current was a little slower near the bank but there should be enough time for the beetle to gently flow into the feeding zone before undo drag pulled the beetle down creek.
 I watch as the beetle got closer and soon enough a trout rose and sucked it in. I whipped back the rod and the line tightened with an unsuspecting trout turning with the hook set. The small trout playfully tried to get away but was no match for the 6 weight rod. A nice little brown trout came to net.

 

 I wasn’t really sure what time it was by now but I knew it was getting towards evening. I would have about a half hour walk back to the van at the most once I find my way to the road. With trout rising I wasn’t about to leave just yet. It appeared to be their feeding time. I caught about 5 more before I headed on back down stream.

 

 

 Before getting to the road I caught two more trout. I noticed the brightness of the sun, which was behind clouds at the time, was nearing the tree tops atop the mountain. After searching for a way to reach the dirt road, through tall grass, brush and downed trees, I came to a small animal trail. I followed this, in the opposite direction of the way I wanted to go, that finally lead me to the road. Up the road a ways I walked through the forest again, crossed the creek and headed towards the van. Seeing the van was a beautiful sight at the time. I knew a cold Scotch Ale was in my cooler and I popped off the cap just after I opened the side doors.

 

 It was about 8:02 when I looked at the clock. I’ve been out since about 2:00. It felt good to finally sit down and relax with a cold brew in my hand.
 The ‘Purist’ fiberglass Wonderod was a delight to fish with. I couldn’t even give an estimate on how many fish I caught and missed but it never got boring along the creek.

Cheers!

 

~doubletaper 

Old Style Fishing in Modern Times

Old Style Fishing in Modern Times
6/10/15

 

 I had just picked up a couple of Wonderods and was anxious to use them. I packed the ‘Custom Pro’ fiberglass rod in the van and went looking for a creek to fish it in.

 I parked along side of the road and walked to the bridge to check out the conditions. The water was stained some but looked to be very fishable. Trees, full of green leaves bordered the creek banks. The cloud cover was bright reflecting the hidden sun and it was a warm June day in the 70’s.
 Back at the van I assembled the two section 7’ ‘Custom Pro’ Wonderod together and went old style. I took out the old Martin Classic MC78, with Cortland Sylk WF5F line and fitted it to the rear locking reel seat. After putting on a pair of Hip Waders and wading boots I was ready for some old style fishing. I put my vest on and headed down the path.
 At the swimming hole I looked it over. The creek gets fished pretty heavy during trout season but I always seem to find a few left over trout in the pool area.
 Stepping off the bank and into the water I immediately felt the cool water around my ankles and legs. Wading out, ahead of the pool, I got away from the bank so I had plenty of room for my back cast. The water flowed into the wide circular pool from a narrower fast current flow from upstream. Mid creek the water waved with a little force and slowed to an even flow once it entered the wide pond like pool. Unexpectedly the sun found room between the floating clouds and spread sunshine down upon me.
 With the Wonderod in my hand I took notice how good it felt and checked out the balance. With the Martin Classic it appeared to balance well on my index finger. Not quite as light as the graphite rods of today but the 7’ ‘glass’ will hold it’s own in small creeks for short casts and trout catching action.

 

 I knotted on a Woolly Bugger and looped a cast out towards the far bank. The surface current slowly pushed the floating line down stream and the bugger followed the arc of the line. After a few more casts I got a strike and reared back on the soft rod for the hook set. The trout scurried about within the deeper water of the pool as the ‘glass’ rod flexed and bounced with the frisky trout. The first trout came within net distance and I netted my first fish of the day which put a big smile on my face.

 After a couple more casts, in the same presentation, I had another rainbow testing the flex of the vintage ‘glass’. The trout jarred and tugged trying to find a way to escape but it was no match for the Wonderod. Another rainbow came to the net.

 

 After getting a good feel for the rod it was time to journey downstream and see how it handles in more closed quarters.

 

 Where I couldn’t back cast over the brushy banks behind me I had to make roll casts. It’s not as easy roll casting a soft fiberglass rod. It is more of a looping lob with a definite push forward of the wrist. With a weighted streamer on it is a little more difficult but I managed.
 Down creek a ways I missed a strike as the bugger swept beneath a heavy current flow out from some overhanging brush. Later on I was bringing in a Woolly Bugger for my next cast. It was skimming the water surface and I seen a hold over brown trout rise out of nowhere and followed the bugger. He appeared to take a swipe at it, but not too aggressively, before returning to the bottom. I spent about 10 more minutes trying to get him in to taking one of my assorted offerings but he didn’t want anything to do with it. From there I continued on towards the next deep pool of water. By now the sun was fully exposed and it was quite warmer out.
 Along my journey I seen a few planks of wood that were wedged into the far bank. I just knew there had to be a trout or two left alone beneath. I let the bugger drift at least three times near hoping to coax a trout out from hiding. Without even a nip I calculated distance and over handed a cast towards the planks.

 The bugger dropped within an inch or two just ahead on the planks. The water didn’t look too deep so I didn’t let much slack line out not wanting to get hung up on bottom. As the bugger creased, just outside the planks of wood, I saw a flash. As soon as I seen the fly line pull I yanked back on the cork and sure enough I felt the good hook set. The taunt line and flexed rod wouldn’t let the trout return under the planks so it swam, struggling, down creek. It didn’t feel very heavy so I let him play the rod strength without giving him any line. He surfaced twice, down creek, and than came swimming towards me. Another rainbow succumbed to the Wonderod. 

Water flowed over the two downed logs that lay on the stream bed across the width of the creek. The water waved with a little more force as it entered the deeper water of the pool beyond. The wavy water was mid creek as both sides were shallower. I positioned myself three quarters of the way across the creek so I had plenty of room to cast and I felt a good position to work the bugger in the slightly faster current. I lit a stogie and took a few good puffs before proceeding.
 My first drift through I got a strike that failed to connect. There was a difference in the cross currents, from the logs, that I knew I had to adjust to. Sometimes the bugger swung pretty smoothly with a current being pulled down creek with the fly line but other times it felt it would get caught in an underneath cross current and more slack would appear on my fly line on the surface. It was pretty tricky at times but I did manage my first trout within and few more casts.

 Standing ahead of the pool I managed picking off a few trout on occasion but missed quite a few short strikes. Either way I was getting some action as the sun started to lower towards the tree tops.

 

 I had seen a few trout rise now and than in the slower water and tried a few dry flies without success. As the sun gradually topped the trees I called it quits and waded out to the path that lead back to the van. It had been a good outing flexing my newest Fiberglass rod with hungry rainbows.
 Back at the van I quenched my thirst with a Straub Dopplebock as I changed out of my fishing gear.

 

  Just before heading out I took out a Torano Dominico and lit it up for the ride home.
 Overall the Wonderod and Martin Classic didn’t disappoint. Nether did the Straub or Torano to make it a successful, relaxing and enjoyable old style fishing excursion in the Allegheny National Forest.

~doubletaper

Birthday on Kettle Creek

Birthday on Kettle Creek
April 20th and 21st, 2015

April 20th

 

 I never hit Kettle Creek in April but I wanted to be up that way on Wednesday, of the first week of trout opener, so I decided to head up Monday after work. Skip Hughes, the Regional Coordinator of Project Healing Waters, was taking a bus load of Veterans from Erie Pa. to the Rainbow Paradise Trout Farm on Wednesday, so I came up early before meeting up with them. Monday I worked till noon and by 1:00 I was headed north to God’s Country. It always seems to take forever on the 2 ½ to 3 hour drive. After stopping at the Kettle Creek Tackle Shop, in Hammersley Fork, I drove along route 144 looking for a place to park and fish.
 It was about 3:00 and I was wading in the cold water casting my 9’ 4 weight custom rod under the sun shine. The temperature was in the mid 60’s I’d say but the cool breeze let me know I was in the mountains.
 The first trout took the Woolly Bugger on a swing drift. It felt good to get the first trout out of the way within the first ten minutes of being in the water. It scampered about under the wavy current until I got it to the net.
 I fished until dark before heading back to the van and finding a place to spend the night. I caught a half dozen trout or so all underneath with nymphs and Buggers.

 

 

Birthday #58
April 21

 I felt the nudge and set the hook. The fish took off towards the middle of the creek. I could tell it was a heavier fish and gave it line as I was using 5x tippet and didn’t want to horse it in the current. It stayed down low like a brown trout and I thought for sure I had my birthday prize trout on the other end… 

 I had awoken early with good intentions of spending a full day of trout catching. A sliced egg and ham sandwich on wheat bread wasn’t a king’s breakfast but I was camping and it was good enough. With a cup of strong black coffee to start the day I was getting antsy to get to fishing. 

 I hit the project area early. The sun wasn’t even up above the mountain tops when I stepped into the water. The creek flowed in waves like a boat passing through a no wake zone. The air was chilled and when the wind blew down stream it rippled the surface water like a stadium flag in a soft breeze. At times I wish I brought gloves but I was fine otherwise.

 

 I relaxingly took my time casting and fishing my way down stream. There wasn’t a soul on the creek and I was in no hurry to get too excited. Slowly working my way down creek a trout grabbed the bugger with enough force I felt the take between my fingers. A quick jerk of my wrist set the hook and the trout was pulling away with the current on the other end. It was good to feel the first trout was on so soon.

 

  I fished the project area for almost 2 hours before heading to more open water in the all tackle section. The fish commission was to be stocking trout up creek near Ole Bull Campground and I figured I’d keep my distance and stay down creek away from those who chose to follow the truck.

 

 I passed three vehicles along the road where guys were fishing near a walk bridge that crossed the creek. I parked down creek from them and took out the 4 weight custom, put my vest on and took to the water. Down creek I could see no one was around and I was hoping it would be that way for some time. Long casts, with an Olive Bugger, through the shallows I made my way to the deeper choppy section where I planned on spending more time fishing.
 The cold chilled wind blew as if old man winter didn’t want spring to come anytime soon. The water waved in dark shadows under the overcast cloudy sky. Now and than the sun would peak through for about 15 minutes or so showing signs of warmth but clouds would gradually diminish the hopes that the rest of the day would stay sunny. Except for the calm of the riffling water it was quiet and relaxing.
 Once at the head of the deeper section stretch of water I lit up a Cohiba and looked the situation over.

 

 The main body of water, from the shallows, flowed against the far bank wall creating a heavy wave of current along this stretch tapering off down stream. It looked shallower against the bank, compared to the water mid creek, but it was sure deep enough to hold some trout below the quick surface current. Mid way between the far bank and the wavy current mid stream, was a break of calmer water that rippled with cross currents. This I was sure would hold trout. Down stream it opened up with a softer flow but still deep enough and enough undercurrent that extra weight would be needed to keep a nymph or streamer on or near the bottom. I always believe adjusting weight in heavy current makes for a better presentation in the strike zone.
 I would cast across creek and let some slack out, to let the Woolly Bugger drop deeper, before it started to sweep down towards midstream. I’d connect with a trout now and then that fought furiously in the fast currents.

I worked the 30 yards or so stretch to the tail out hooking up occasionally for about an hour or so.  I picked up some fine looking rainbows on the buggers that fought with lots of gusto and a couple smaller brown trout.

 

 I was at the head of the stretch again when an older gent, with a spinning rod, walked down the path behind me. After a greeting I asked him if he had seen the stocking truck. He mentioned that they were stocking up creek right now. He said he had been catching trout until they threw fresh trout in and the others quit biting. He came down creek and figured on waiting an hour before heading back up. He also commented that they wouldn’t be stocking this far down creek, which was fine with me.
 I wasn’t catching a lot of trout at the time but enough I was content with staying put. He kept his distance and fished towards the tail out. I watched him pick up a couple trout drifting something under an indicator. I decided to resort to nymph fishing.
 I knotted on a Picket Pin with a #16 glass bead Stonefly and started the routine of drop and drifting them in the fast current. I had one strike after a bit but it came loose. I knotted on a bigger stonefly and succeeded in netting a nice trout before another fellow showed up. In about a half hour they left and I was left alone again having the complete stretch to myself.
 With long casts and mends I caught one on the stone and one smacked the picket pin. I was letting the combination drift back to the shallow tail out and let it continue to drift towards my side of the bank. I was hoping there might be a trout or two searching for food in the shallows along the bank down creek from me.

 

Beadhead Stonefly

 My cast was about ¾ across creek just skirting the wavy water along the far bank. I let some slack out in front of me anticipating the slight current would drift my tandem set up to the tail out. I kept the rod out, level with the water, moving it down stream with the drift while watching the fly line. It arced across the tail out and I lifted the rod tip easy letting the bottom drifting nymphs head towards my side of the bank down stream from me. I felt the slightest nudge; I stripped line in taking in the slack as well as lifting the rod higher for a hook set. There was a hesitation when the line tightened. A swirl appeared upon the surface, of the shallow water, and then the line took off towards the deeper water with my rod flexed outward. I could tell by the weight and flex of the rod this might just be my birthday trout I was hoping for. I let out line as it continued to battle towards the far bank staying deep beneath like a brown trout. When it got to the wavier current near the far bank it turned up creek. I brought in line keeping side pressure on him waiting any second for him to give me a quick headshake. Upstream he met with quicker current incoming towards him so he turned back downstream, still no headshakes. He swam past me, mid creek, and than arced toward the bank. I had the rod high and when he touched the shallow bottom pebbles, with a tail swat, he started outward again. I tilted the rod towards the shore whereas he didn’t get too far and turned back towards me. This is where I got a good look at him and realized this wasn’t the kind of big birthday trout I expected. I brought him to the bank, and though he was the longest fish of the day, I’d just have to except him as my ’birthday fish!’

 

 After releasing him I lit up another stogie in celebration of my catch!

 

 The air never warmed much and the wind continued to come and go bringing with it strong gusts at times and chilled temperatures. Occasionally sprinkles fell but never amounting to big drops to scare me off the creek. Continuing to fish the section I caught trout on a variety of nymphs and wet flies. It seemed if I stuck with a fly long enough eventually I’d catch something on it.

Picket Pin

 

San Juan

Another exotic catch

 I suppose it was around 4:30 when I was finally feeling my 58 year old body starting to fatigue. I slowly started my way back to the van with another relaxing cigar between my lips. When I got around the corner I noticed no one was fishing up around the walk bridge upstream. I followed the path along the creek wanting to find out what was so special about this place. From the opposite side of the road I happen to cast into the riffling deep water from the bank. Wham! A trout grabbed the bugger like a kid grabs candy from a fire truck in a holiday parade. It wasn’t a big rainbow but a trout none-the-less.
 After I released him I looked across creek and it looked to be a better spot to fish from with a shallow area along the bank. I walked up the path and crossed the shallow riffling water to the roadside bank. Slowly I’d waded down along the bank where I could cast my Woolly Bugger up into the fast deep current and high stick it as it drifted down creek.
 I was getting strike after strike and bringing in rainbows almost one after another from the fast riffling current. There was times that if I didn’t get a strike within three casts I’d bring the bugger in and look at it to make sure it was still on and not tangled up. This went on far about a ½ hour before it finally slowed down. I had enough and waded out and walked down the road to my van. I was whipped!

I drove down the road to where I decided to change out of my fishing gear and get more relaxed. I drove up the dirt lane and pulled to the side. After changing clothes I grabbed a few things and relaxed on the walk bridge that span across Cross Fork Creek.
 A birthday shot, a beer and a stogie was a good appetizer before heading into Cross Fork for a birthday meal.

 

~doubletaper