Winter Wonderland.

I came home from school this weekend to take the Praxis II Social Studies Content Knowledge Exam Saturday morning for six hours of my life. However, with the snow on the way, it was canceled which made me extremely angry but...this led to a day on the water. Adam and I headed out at 7 am despite the fresh two inches of snow on the ground and another six and ice on the way. Arriving at the ole mill, we slipped all over the place on the ice covered ground on the way to the stream. Three to four inches of solid ice with a fresh two inches of powder on top are not good conditions for walking with feltsoul wading boots.

Hooking Up.

Average Small Stream Brown.

Burr...

Where I (idiot) decided to enter the stream required a hike on an incline, followed by a catwalk on top of a concrete slab 10 feet above the stream, followed by a 5 foot drop to another slab, and then another 5 foot drop to the stream and stable walking conditions. That proved to be impossible, so we had to descend the incline. After having talked about how conscious we had become about avoiding thorn bushes in our new waders we were about to have wished we knocked on some wood. I lasted about three feet before I fell and slid down the incline feet first on my stomach. I only stopped because a forest of thorn bushes caught and stopped my decent about 3/4 of the way down. I was wrapped up bigtime all around my waders and slid down back into the thorns two more times before I finally made it out of that mess. Adam did not have better luck as he got wrapped up and shed some blood as the thorns ripped apart his frozen hands. After making it to the stream, we were thankful to be in familiar territory and have a chance to walk on stable slippery boulders and algae for the rest of the day.

Stones.

Next Time, More Rubber Legs.

Adam's Future Tattoo.

My Turn.

Brown Time.

Story over, the fishing proved to be a little sluggish because the temperature was a solid 27 degrees. We did manage to catch several small bows and browns on the stream and get some quality shots of some huge stones. The temperature proved to be quite a disadvantage. Before I could even cast, I had to submerge my entire outfit underwater for a few seconds in order for it to be free of ice and function semi-normally. The cold also hurt the hands and they haven't been this cold since Erie 07'. After six hours of fishing, and not wearing any gloves, the hands were a bit red and swollen. At one point, while filming some underwater shots my fingers froze together. After a few hours on the mill we decided to explore some new water and what we found proved to be worth the effort getting there.

Anticipation.

Winter Wonderland.

Doesn't Get Much Prettier.

There is something about fishing a body of water for the very first time that sets it apart from any other time you ever have a chance to fish it. Arriving, you have a heightened sense of anticipation rather than having expectations. You have no idea what awaits around the next bend or what lurks beneath in the fast currents and deep holding water. You can predict and probably have a gut feeling that something quite large lives in a particular lie. But if you never actually see it, you will never know if it truly exists. So when Adam mentioned to me that if there was something in this beautiful plunge pool, it was going to be quite large. I put the thought in my mind and had a little faith in the situation. The conditions for something large were all there and when it did happen I was a little surprised. The new stream can hold some nice trout and will be revisited again and again. The next time however, the allure of fishing a stream for the very first time will no longer be there. It will be replaced with expectations that may or may not be met.

Now We Know What To Expect.

Eye Candy.

Winter Wonderland.

I came home from school this weekend to take the Praxis II Social Studies Content Knowledge Exam Saturday morning for six hours of my life. However, with the snow on the way, it was canceled which made me extremely angry but...this led to a day on the water. Adam and I headed out at 7 am despite the fresh two inches of snow on the ground and another six and ice on the way. Arriving at the ole mill, we slipped all over the place on the ice covered ground on the way to the stream. Three to four inches of solid ice with a fresh two inches of powder on top are not good conditions for walking with feltsoul wading boots.

Hooking Up.

Average Small Stream Brown.

Burr...

Where I (idiot) decided to enter the stream required a hike on an incline, followed by a catwalk on top of a concrete slab 10 feet above the stream, followed by a 5 foot drop to another slab, and then another 5 foot drop to the stream and stable walking conditions. That proved to be impossible, so we had to descend the incline. After having talked about how conscious we had become about avoiding thorn bushes in our new waders we were about to have wished we knocked on some wood. I lasted about three feet before I fell and slid down the incline feet first on my stomach. I only stopped because a forest of thorn bushes caught and stopped my decent about 3/4 of the way down. I was wrapped up bigtime all around my waders and slid down back into the thorns two more times before I finally made it out of that mess. Adam did not have better luck as he got wrapped up and shed some blood as the thorns ripped apart his frozen hands. After making it to the stream, we were thankful to be in familiar territory and have a chance to walk on stable slippery boulders and algae for the rest of the day.

Stones.

Next Time, More Rubber Legs.

Adam's Future Tattoo.

My Turn.

Brown Time.

Story over, the fishing proved to be a little sluggish because the temperature was a solid 27 degrees. We did manage to catch several small bows and browns on the stream and get some quality shots of some huge stones. The temperature proved to be quite a disadvantage. Before I could even cast, I had to submerge my entire outfit underwater for a few seconds in order for it to be free of ice and function semi-normally. The cold also hurt the hands and they haven't been this cold since Erie 07'. After six hours of fishing, and not wearing any gloves, the hands were a bit red and swollen. At one point, while filming some underwater shots my fingers froze together. After a few hours on the mill we decided to explore some new water and what we found proved to be worth the effort getting there.

Anticipation.

Winter Wonderland.

Doesn't Get Much Prettier.

There is something about fishing a body of water for the very first time that sets it apart from any other time you ever have a chance to fish it. Arriving, you have a heightened sense of anticipation rather than having expectations. You have no idea what awaits around the next bend or what lurks beneath in the fast currents and deep holding water. You can predict and probably have a gut feeling that something quite large lives in a particular lie. But if you never actually see it, you will never know if it truly exists. So when Adam mentioned to me that if there was something in this beautiful plunge pool, it was going to be quite large. I put the thought in my mind and had a little faith in the situation. The conditions for something large were all there and when it did happen I was a little surprised. The new stream can hold some nice trout and will be revisited again and again. The next time however, the allure of fishing a stream for the very first time will no longer be there. It will be replaced with expectations that may or may not be met.

Now We Know What To Expect.

Eye Candy.

Scenic Outing.

The other day my brother and I decided to wake up extremely early and drive to the Poconos in search of wild brook trout on a remote stream in the mountains. We made the drive, followed the gps, and made it to the road only to be denied access. The road was closed because apparently they do not plow it in the winter and it was a solid sheet of ice. This ruined our high expectations for the day. Taking turns at the wheel, I drove back and we fished some smaller streams around Beltzville Lake.

One of the More Scenic Holes.

Hooking into a 10 inch Brookie.

On the Menu.

My brother, Matt was breaking in a brand new small stream rod and he did not disappoint it. He hit the PA "grandslam" landing a brown, bow, and brookie in a single day. Not bad for a frigid late December day. We were able to get some nice footage and photos of the scenery. While he fished, I often turned my attention to reaching into the water which was around 37 degrees turning over rocks looking for some good material. I found it in a variety of mayflies and caddies mixed in with some rogue stoneflies. Macro video proved to take some awesome footage of the extraterrestial-like trout food.

Discovered This Guy On My Thumb While Walking Back To The Car.

Found Under Almost Every Rock.

Mr. Green Caddis Larva

My only fish of the day proved to be quite the catch, as I landed one of the largest wild browns I have ever caught on these small streams. A skinny but beautiful 15 inches, the fish caught me by complete surprise as he came out of a hole that in three years had never produced a strike. The brown succumbed to a size 16 tan caddis pupa with a ribbed pheasant tail back. The golden colors on the brown were brightly reflected in the sunlight. He released himself before a photo could be taken. A video still will have to do.

Brown Gold.

A Fine Specimen.

Scenic Outing.

The other day my brother and I decided to wake up extremely early and drive to the Poconos in search of wild brook trout on a remote stream in the mountains. We made the drive, followed the gps, and made it to the road only to be denied access. The road was closed because apparently they do not plow it in the winter and it was a solid sheet of ice. This ruined our high expectations for the day. Taking turns at the wheel, I drove back and we fished some smaller streams around Beltzville Lake.

One of the More Scenic Holes.

Hooking into a 10 inch Brookie.

On the Menu.

My brother, Matt was breaking in a brand new small stream rod and he did not disappoint it. He hit the PA "grandslam" landing a brown, bow, and brookie in a single day. Not bad for a frigid late December day. We were able to get some nice footage and photos of the scenery. While he fished, I often turned my attention to reaching into the water which was around 37 degrees turning over rocks looking for some good material. I found it in a variety of mayflies and caddies mixed in with some rogue stoneflies. Macro video proved to take some awesome footage of the extraterrestial-like trout food.

Discovered This Guy On My Thumb While Walking Back To The Car.

Found Under Almost Every Rock.

Mr. Green Caddis Larva

My only fish of the day proved to be quite the catch, as I landed one of the largest wild browns I have ever caught on these small streams. A skinny but beautiful 15 inches, the fish caught me by complete surprise as he came out of a hole that in three years had never produced a strike. The brown succumbed to a size 16 tan caddis pupa with a ribbed pheasant tail back. The golden colors on the brown were brightly reflected in the sunlight. He released himself before a photo could be taken. A video still will have to do.

Brown Gold.

A Fine Specimen.

Trout, Trees, and Ice In The Guides.

A small stream can only be considered "small" if you end up catching more trees than trout. This type of classification becomes more difficult to achieve when you are catching trout left and right. However, I still believe Adam and I met this standard yesterday on one of the more productive winter outings in memory. We did not count how many trout we caught but if we had, I think we would have lost count.

Gearing Up.

It Was Cold.

Stones Are On The Menu.

Small rainbows and browns were the ticket of the day with the occasional "trophy" of 10 inches. We also witnessed the "behemoth" of the stream as we spooked probably a 14-16 inch brown trout in a section Adam prefers to call the chutes. The fish were all in great condition, especially the brown trout. Absent however, were the brook trout that are most likely gone from this stream as they have been overrun by the browns and bows.

"Trophy" Brown

BH Gold Ribbed Tan Caddis Pupa.

Compare the Colors Above and Below Water.

And Release...

The "spot" is always generous to us but it does not come easily. You still have to work for what you get and this was no exception. With the water nice and high from a decent snow fall, the currents were raging and achieving a dead drift with the limited positions available to us proved to be quite tricky. Adding to this dilemma was the ice that seemed to never stop forming on our guides, lines, and reels.

Young Lateral Line.

Gotta Love the Spots on These Browns.

Release...

I Don't Know Which Looks Better.

These were minor problems when faced with the real challenge of the stream, casting. The typical scenario requires a presentation under an overhanging alder, but over an overgrown thorn bush on the backcast, while being sure not spook the trout. In extremely tight spots, casting is not achievable so you perform a slingshot cast and pray for the best. Roll casting can be a succuss in limited situations but more often than not the height needed isn't there. Sidearm casting under all the branches is my prefered method of choice.

Be Careful When You Set The Hook.

Or Attempt To Cast Here.

The Reward For All The Hardwork.