This River is Wild: The May That Never Was and the May That Was...

The May That Never Was...

For the spring of 2025, my friends and I had mighty expectations for a productive dry fly season filled with hunting large brown trout on mayflies. The anticipation came from a mild winter and early spring that brought some nice specimens to hand. What wasn't on our bingo card was 12" of rain in the month of May. For weekend warriors like us, that level of rain is a death sentence for finding a hatch and trout willing to come to the surface in high and turbid conditions. Thus, Dan coined the spring season, "The May That Never Was". Despite that moniker, we still went fishing with mixed results. The streamer bite was solid, but also difficult when the slow water is tucked deep into the trees. The trout spey action was also decent, but having done that most of the winter, we kept those rods safe in the confines of their tubes. Therefore, we went out in the high water anyway and parked our rafts on slow seams and waited for rises that more often than not, never came. When they did, we landed some nice fish. The positive byproduct of all the rain meant that the season was extended into the second week of June, which is a rare event on this river if you actually care about trout. Our best action came when the water finally receded to slightly elevated levels in the first week of June. I can recall one evening where Matt and I finally went out fishing together and found sulphur action and a few 20" browns. On another outing, I took my young cousin out for his first time dry fly fishing and got him on some nice fish to close the 2025 season. In general, May is my favorite time to be on the water with a trout rod in hand. I feel it reveals the true character and trout population of a river.

In contrast, the winter of 25'-26' was absolutely brutal. The consistently below freezing temperatures, anchor ice, and severe storms created cabin fever and an extended period of no fly fishing. When March and April came, we found ourselves targeting smallmouth bass across the Keystone state instead. All the while, the anticipation for May hatch season and rising trout slowly built to a crescendo. When I finally made it out in early May, I drove through Friday rush hour for several hours so I could launch by Watermaster solo and fish magic hour. That evening was special and erased the negative feelings associated with the prior season. The subsequent weekends produced some river magic with copious amounts of large browns eating mayflies all evening. Each night my friends and I were serenaded by amphibians and entranced by nighthawks and swallows eating the bugs. In between, we drank, laughed, and enjoyed one another's company in one of our favorite places.