Magic Time

Eastern Green Drake

Some things just never get old. Like large wild brown trout aggressively rising to outlandishly sized mayflies on a large fertile limestone river. Decoration Day had no sooner come and gone when word went out across the state the mother of all eastern hatches was now about to make it's annual appearance on many productive streams and rivers across the Commonwealth. Nearly an inch of rain fell a few days earlier recharging the aquifer and giving stream flows a much needed boost just in time for the smorgasbord of protein that is Penn's Creek in late May.

Poe Paddy

So it was with much anticipation that I tossed my gear in the car and prepared to spend the next 36 sleep deprived hours chasing those monstrous mayflies in all stages and modes of their existence up and down the Penn's Creek Valley. Poe Paddy would be the place to be to meet the peak of the emergence as it worked it's way upstream. There was only one tiny little problem with the weather; it was bright and sunny once again. Daytime highs were in the high 60's to low 70's and overnight lows were in the 40's. Cumulus clouds racing by overhead portended fair weather for the next 24-48 hours. I never did get a water temperature but after all it was only late May on Penn's, I'm sure the water temp. was fine.

Poe Paddy Tunnel Bridge

Looking upstream from old Lewisburg & Tyrone R.R. trestle bridge at Poe Paddy in late afternoon on Saturday. Shadows are already beginning to slowly creep across the river bottom as the sun begins it's decent to the west. I made my way through the refreshingly cool tunnel and slowly tramped my way downstream along the banks of the Broadwater Pool where the riparian vegetation was thick with both the dun and spinner stages of Ephemera guttulata. The Broadwater will always be a sentimental favorite location with me but it was not the kind of Dry Fly on Fast Water sort of beat I had in mind for this evening's fishing so I continued to slowly work my way further downstream to a section of riffles, runs, pocketwater and pools, all within a short cast.

It was palpable, you could feel it in the air all day long. Dunno whether it was the delightful weather or the perfect water levels or the cordial nature and comaraderie of all the Green Drake Fanatics but you could tell that tonight was going to be one of those speacial nights on the river.

When I finally arrived at the Leaning Tree Pool I was surprised & delighted to have it all to myself at such a late hour. Recently vacated no doubt, so I rested it for a few minutes. It wasn't too long before I noticed my first couple of sparodic rises under said leaning tree, then a few quick ones out in front, and now out of the corner of my eye I think I may have seen a slashing rise or two up in the really fast water at the head of the small pool. It's the Heart of Saturday Night and the Green Drake hatch is in full swing on Penn's Creek. My first fish is a slow lazy riser out in front of some in-stream deadfall that turns out to be full of piss and vineagar when hooked and is close to 18" long when netted. It only got better from there on out with some of the best fish taking Green Drake duns right up in the fast pocketwater. Big fat wild browns rising to large dry flies in fast water right up past darkness at 10 pm, and most of them would take on the first drift if you got your presentation right. The much heralded Coffin Flies assembled in masses over the riffles around 9 pm and moved up and down the river corridor a bit but never hit the water in big numbers -that was ok, I already lost count of the number of of nice fish I had taken on the duns. A half moon rose over White Mountain to help light our way out of the dark gorge. It was now going on 10:30 pm and I had been up since 5 am that morning but I felt like I was still running on all cylinders. It would be midnight before I would get to bed and I had an early day to look forward to tomorrow.

Ingelby

The following day I attempted to take advantage of one of the oldest tricks in the Green Drake fisherman's book. Coffin Fly spinner falls at daybreak in rare solitude. Well ok, maybe not exactly daybreak but shortly thereafter. Given the right weather conditions (warm overnight lows), Green Drake spinners can fall throughout much of the night with residual spinners and another second minor flight in the morning bringing up a good rise of trout. Well my luck wasn't quite that good this year. Chilly overnight low temperatures terminated any overnight fall and by the time the second morning fall got under way the sun was already hitting the water. But not before I managed two more spinner sipping browns from a shady bank. Bright sunshine usually means "game over" on Penn's Creek.

Poe Mills

Poe Mills is the former site of a ghost town that once flourished at the confluence of Big Poe & Penn's Creek during the height of the lumbering era. During the 1890's Poe Mills supported a larger population than the nearby town of State College. Today it is little more than a small cluster of part time fishing camps, a popular state campground and a canoe launching ramp.

Ephemera guttulata

Yep, large wild trout rising to outsized mayflies in fast, boisterous pocketwater. My personal definition of "good rising activity".

Stillwater Brook Trout

Wild brook trout in a stillwater setting? On public land in Pennsylvania ?? And it's not Lyman Lake???

You betcha!

Here's another clue for y'all...

Twilight Zone Sulphers

Twilight - Shriner's Mountain

Canon 40D, EF 17-40mm f/4.0 L-Series Lens, ISO 400, 30 second exposure.

I was recently afforded a few days of much needed R&R at one of the most delightful times of the year. I could hardly think of a better place to spend that time than chasing those ubiquitous sulpher mayflies up and down the Penn's Creek watershed. Unfortunately (if you're a fly fisherman), a large high pressure weather system ushered in bright & sunny, bluebird skies that simply dominated the negatively photo-tropic wild brown trout's water world for most of the entire week. We still caught some fish, but the best fishing would be compressed into the golden hours during mornings and evenings and we had to work hard for them.

Belle's Magestic View

In fact, there was one solid 4-day stretch where not even one single lousy cumulus cloud could be spotted drifting by overhead during the entire time. Sort of like in the above image, taken while looking north across upper Penn's Valley from atop Second Mountain.

Millheim Narrows

Elk Creek, a Penn's Creek tributary, races through a gap in Shriner Mountain on it's way to the small town of Millhiem. Elk Creek turned out to be the one exception to the afternoon doldrums theme that played out so mercilessly during the past week and provided some semi-reliable nymphing up in the pocketwater above town.

The Catch

Like this lovely wild Elk Creek brown trout who paid the price for failing to read any of the stuff in the biology texts about negative phototropism.

Penn's View

The viewshed here is looking north from atop Poe Mountain in the Bald Eagle State Forest. Penn's Creek turns abruptly south at a fault in the mountains (mid background) and courses south through the Seven Mountains Scenic Region. In the far background is the fault where Elk Creek cuts through Shriner Mountain. The astute observer might notice that both faults/fractures are on the same north/south axis. I'm all about the movements of tectonic plates these days.

Coburn Trestle Bridge

Canon 40D, EF 70-200mm f/4.0 L Series Lens

Taken from Penn's View. Fishing pressure was fairly sparse this week on Penn's.

Stillhouse Hollow

A frosty May morn on Penn's Creek seen here right before it enters the Karoondinha Gorge. A cold front had moved through the area a couple of days ago. The outside air temperature this morning in Millhiem was a chilly 31 degrees F. It would warm up into the high 50's later in the afternoon.

Lone Angler at Ingelby

Once the sun was off the water in the evening the pace of the fishing slowly turned back on as the browns prepared to feed throughout the night. Some good fish were finally up and working those sulpher duns around 7:30 pm but it was the sulpher spinner fall around 8:30 that brought the big boys out from under those hemlock boughs and boulders to play for real. Switching to a spinner pattern produced a noticeable increase in hookups until darkness came down like a curtain on the final act of a tragic comedy.

Little Juniata River at Spruce Creek

Don't let the above foto fool you. The anglers are all hidden back under the riparian trees waiting for the evening rise. After all the lonely fishing we had on Penn's Creek over the past few days, the Little Juniata River turned out to be a major turn off. Even at high noon on a bright sunny cloudless day in the middle of the week, the parking lot at the Barree Gorge was packed solid. The access points between Barree and PA 305 were pretty much about the same. While the fishing may have gotten interesting later on, the crowding would have only got worse. This was not to be confused with a quality fishing experience so we turned our sorry butts around and high tailed it out of there without even suiting up, stopping briefly to snag this shot from the PA 45 bridge in Spruce Creek before heading back north to Penn's Valley.

Amish Farm - Spring Bank, Pa.

Spring fecundity in the Brush Valley...

Amish Farm - Woodward, Pa.

A bucolic scene on Pine Creek Road.

Big Poe Creek - Poe Valley

As fate would have it, on our very last day in the valley we noticed a bank of clouds on the western horizon -some weather was finally moving in. That low pressure system would hang around central Pennsylvania for the next few days setting the stage for some unbelievable afternoon/early evening sulpher fishing for the anglers who were lucky enough to get the timing right. Me? I considered extending my stay but a nagging foot injury had me temporarily sidelined anyway. I had strained some ligaments in my right foot the day before on Penn's and I was now having some serious mobility problems. A couple of more days of R&R back home and we'll be right as rain in time for s'more sulphers as well as the upcoming Cahill (cream, yellow, orange, whatever...) and Green Drake hatches.

Springtime in PA

I politely informed my manager, that I was not going to be present at work tomorrow, and hastily made plans to spend the day immersed in the trout waters of the Bald Eagle State Forest. We have had copious amounts of rain, at least in the southern half of the state, and my hunch was that the streams would be at an ideal flow, and the fish would start to be tuned in to the coming insect feast. This time of the year, in this part of the world, the streams are in a state of transition. Though, then again, aren’t they always???…….In any event, the hatches of early spring, with their vagaries due to weather and stream conditions, are giving way to more predicable and stable weather patterns. It is at this time, that Mother Nature prepares a bountiful feast for its finned residents by providing a plethora of heavy insect activity. First and foremost of these insects is the Sulpher; which are known as Ephemerella rotunda and invaria in Latin circles. In blue collar terms, all one needs to know is: Sulpher comparadun. But this is only one of the insects that comprise the springtime buffet for the trout. There are others, many others that get the keen interest of the trout.

Such as this cute wee little stonefly.

But before I get too far ahead of myself, I must provide an account of the streams themselves – there’s a story there as well. I had fully intended to fish Penns Creek when I started out on this journey. I had thought that conditions on this large limestone river would be ideal. The flow I had seen on the gauging site, seemed reasonable, and I didn’t think that it would be off color either. However, on the ride to the stream, I gave every stream I passed close enough to, or over a good hard look. And every stream I looked at was high and off color. My confidence was waning that Penns would be suitable for decent angling. Low and behold, when I reached the hamlet of Penns Creek, my fears were confirmed. It was chocolate milk. But, being the eternal optimist, I thought that perhaps further upstream, the river would be better, and it would be fishable. That turned out to be another bad assumption. Further upstream in the best water, the stream was dirty. As dirty as Paris Hilton, with a belly full of booze, and snoot full of blow. It was time for plan B. Plan B for me, as it usually turns out, is to fish a smaller stream in situations like this. And so, I soldiered on and found one. Sorry, this stream’s name shall remain unwritten, as should all small streams mentioned in cyberspace. As it turns out, this stream was running bank full from the recent rains, but as expected, its flow was crystal clear too. It flows through relatively undisturbed forest, so there is no sedimentation to cloud the flow, even after intense precipitation events. This also bodes well for its finned denizens, and the macroinvertebrate life that flourishes there as well.

When I arrived at this treasure trove of angling bliss, I first noticed the small stoneflies that were flitting and fluttering about. They were probably Alloperla, and probably caudata to be exact, if that matters to you – I am not an entomologist, so I am making no claim for accuracy! No matter what they were, there were many of them. And no matter what specie they were, I doubt that the trout would differentiate between them, and certainly not on this stream. Another thing that to me, makes these places fun to fish, is the lack of thought that goes into fly selection. Sometimes, I do like the challenge of persnickety fish in flat water, more often that not though, I like the half dozen patterns that work on these streams. So I removed a tan/cream elk hair caddis from my fly box and knotted it to the 5X tippet. I can describe ad nauseam the fish I caught, and the voraciousness that they attacked that fly with, and how many I caught, and how big they were, etc, etc……What is the point in doing this? Suffice to say, the fish were on, and more often than not, I took a fish from just about every likely looking spot my fly passed over. I will though, wax poetic about the beauty of these fish. In fact, even though the pictures seem to have captured most of the brilliance of their markings and colors, the images certainly do not do justice to these jewel-like fish. Perhaps even more remarkable, is the tenacity and resilience of these fish. We have been in a cycle of drought over the last 3 summers, with much below rainfall during the summer months when the water is low anyway. But apparently, the fish have not only survived, but they have flourished! Every Brook Trout I caught was exceedingly plump, strong, and healthy looking. A pleasant, unexpected surprise indeed!

Note the small head and robust body - eating good in the neighborhood!

A word here on trout species…..I caught only 3 Brown Trout all day. The vast majority of the fish I caught were Brookies. In fact, the Browns that I caught did not exude the same robustness that the Brookies did either. Perhaps they need a little more warm weather to boost their metabolism, and get them into prime shape.

I would also like to comment on an event that I can say that I’ve never have seen before. Perhaps I was more observant than I usually am, or perhaps there is some other reason that I noticed, but I saw fish rising in a Brookie crick that would make their limestone brethren proud. The entire time, I noticed fish sipping the surface and porposing with constant regularity. I have never seen a feeding frenzy like this on a stream this size. To be fair, I have seen more insects on this particular water before, but it never solicited a response like this. I suspect that the combination of the arrival of spring, and the increase in water temp, along with an abundant, nutritious food supply put the fish on the feed. There were plenty of lemon sallies, and quite a few sulphers also. There were even a few grey foxes or cahills as well. A rich buffet of insects for a stream this size. It was like wash day on the Nairobi – it was not a good day to be an aquatic insect on this stream!

And so it went for the entire time that I fished this beautiful stream. I probably made my way along about a ½ mile of stream. Finally, I had enough. Not because I grew tired of the place - I doubt that I could, but there was nothing more to accomplish. I caught a bunch of fish, in a beautiful place, and they will be there the next time I decide to fish there. I probably won’t catch as many as I did on this outing. But I like the fact that they are there and thriving. Most importantly, I know that the watershed is healthy and giving the gift of life from the water it gives forth. Long may it continue to be so.

May in Limestone Country

The hours of tying are over. The rains have brought the streams back to life. It’s May in Limestone Country. We have all been reborn.

We live for this stuff.