Not According To Plan...

By now, you are all familiar with my plan to get my roommate addicted to fly fishing. It worked brilliantly and he is out and in it as much as he can. The variable in the equation was his girlfriend, who after living with, and experiencing my weekly fishing habits, did not want her man falling into the fly fishing abyss. I started everything off slow, and it took half a year before Derek actually went fishing with me. By then, she had warmed up to the idea. What followed was the unexpected part. Rather than putting up resistance, she embraced the new hobby and was begging to come along for the ride. We eventually caved.

So it was, on a Saturday morning, we awoke early and made our way to the local stream. We took the scenic route to show her the surroundings and to check out the creek. It was a muddy mess. Little did we know but thunderstorms dumped a lot of rain overnight and suddenly my new plan to get the g/f into fishing was looking like a problem. I even told them not to expect much.

Derek and I made our way to a spot we knew held fish. I rigged Jess up and instructed her on a catapult cast that uses the surface of the water rushing downstream to simply lift and shoot the line upstream. From there I talked about drag, fly presentation, and how to mend to get a good drift. After that was settled, we talked about where a fish would lie in this section and soon thereafter, she hooked into her first fish on fly. A stream chub. She subsequently caught her first two trout, a brown and bow. As Derek watched, he too eventually found some fish, and the day began. 

As everyone says, teaching a woman to fly fish is actually pretty easy. For one, they are better listeners and pay attention to minor details. She also put her "lack of ego" aside and wasn't afraid to ask questions when she struggled on her own. Overall it was a good day on the water for the conditions we found, especially considering it was her first time. In the future, look for these two to take over the fly fishing industry, travel to exotic locales, and take millions of pictures that monopolize fly fishing magazines. 

Out of State Angler.

Take Me Home Country Roads.

Born and raised in eastern Pennsylvania, I grew up in one of the best states in America to fly fish for trout. Wild trout. I honed my skills a few hundred yards down the street from my house on a small freestone stream that harbored a sparse population of wild brown trout. Each spring, the small browns, were hounded by stocked fish and fishermen who kept their limits all season long. It was a miracle I was able to catch them throughout much of my teenage years. Heading to college, I chose the University of Delaware. Lost in the decision process was my desire to fly fish. Instead, athletics and an education were my top priorities at the time period. If I hopped in a DeLorean, I would probably choose guide school and a life of fly fishing over a life spent bound to a job and the man. Graduating college, I took my one and only job offer, and happily am now a Delawarean. I went from a state known for wild trout to a state that has zero wild trout streams. 

Leaf Clutter.

My Escape.

Add Cataracts to Stockpedia. 

When I am tied down in Delaware, I will routinely hit one of the only streams in the state of Delaware that is stocked: White Clay Creek. Even then, I tend to travel an extra ten minutes across the PA line to fish the upper reaches of the creek in Pennsylvania. My local waters now only hold stocked trout as opposed to the stream born fish that intoxicated my mind during my early days. They only satiate a small portion of my appetite for fly fishing. As a result, I am now a traveling out of state angler. A weekend warrior, traveling back home to PA, in search of the wildness of my youth. 

A Freshly Stocked Fall Bow.

The Distinctive Stocking Color.

Chubawamba. 

A Nemo Bow.

Veiled Green Caddis.

An Appetizer. 

PA vs. DE

After four years of college at the University of Delaware, I graduated. Returning home I spent the summer fishing my favorite home waters with my fingers crossed for an interview. It never came. What came was an offer to teach back in Delaware at a relatively brand new school, so I jumped at the chance and I am extremely excited about it. So I moved back down to Delaware and officially have my own little flat back near my old stomping grounds at UD. Im glad to be in the area but the fishing isn't so great. I am missing the home waters. BIG TIME.

I Miss My Dogs Too.

So I moved to Delaware to teach and my brother moved from Baltimore to the Caribbean to teach. Adam remains in Pennsylvania. This River Is Wild is going to get pretty diversified over the next year. As for me, I need to find some alternative forms of fly fishing. I spent the majority of the day google earthing nearby lakes and ponds hoping to find some golden bones but my day long adventure produced nothing. I ended up heading to one of the nicest streams in Delaware: White Clay Creek. It got me thinking about my home water again so here is a comparison of the quarry and environment.

Pennsylvania: Limestone & Freestone Streams full of native and stocked trout.

Appalachia.

Stocked Brown.

The Bugs.

Wild Brown Stimulator (Adam).

Skinny Water Browns.

Aquashicola Rainbow.

Aquashicola Native.

Delaware: Sandy, Muddy, and Somewhat Freestone Streams full of fallfish, small smallmouth, sunfish and the occasional stocked trout who survived the summer.

Small Smallmouth.

Voracious Sunfish.

Freshly Caught Rope Swing That Went Along With The Homeless Women I Almost Stepped On Hopping Over a Fallen Tree.

Delaware Chubs Fight Hard.

And Are Plentiful.

Delaware Deer.

Heading Back Thinking About All The New Water That Lies Ahead & The Fall Stripers, Steelhead, and Browns That Await.

The Yough.

This River is Wild left the Upper Potomac and headed to the next stop in line, the Yougiogheny River. We heard a lot about the Yough from local fly shops and magazines and had high expectations. We also heard it was some more crazy water to fish, with massive fluctuations in flows and some class V rapids. We ended up deciding to fish the catch and release section of the Yough which encompasses a few miles beginning upstream from Sang Run. We arrived early that morning to heavy showers and the rain continued throughout the entire day.

Easy Choice.

Weirdest Chubs of All Time.

Hooking Up.

Again.

Most Acrobatic Fish of the Trip.

We immediately began catching small bows and browns who eagerly attacked not only our nymphs but our large dries as well. These small fish were easily, pound for pound, the hardest fighting fish of the trip. Most likely due to their environment and the ever changing flows of their habitat. During our time at the Yough the river was low and and the water was very shallow making it difficult to find the holding water of the resident trout. After fishing several miles Adam and I found several nice pockets that contained numerous fish. For our efforts we only caught one large fish, a bow pushing 15 inches. Several large rainbows approaching 25 inches were spooked in the long glides of the river and we missed some nice brown trout. Overall the experience on the Youghiogheny was difficult despite the number of fish that were caught.

6wt is Straining.

Get Out of That Rock!

Big Bow.

Relaxing With a Warm Stogy.

2wt Fun.

With student teaching almost over and graduation around the corner, I've been incredibly giddy. I took this excitement with me last evening along with my 2wt to do some dry fly fishing. Little Sulphers have been coming off, so I rigged up with a dry dropper combo and hit the stream. The five hours there proved to be an absolute blast. The 2wt just made it that much more exciting.

About As Good As It Gets Near UD.

The Approach.

The Hole.

Glory.

Mad Fun.

Parting Shot.

Small Eel.

Brutish.

Propulsion.

Would Not Stay Still.

There He Is...