Gunpowder Day Two: Guiding Shocker.

Late on Saturday night I made the drive to one of my best friends apartments outside of Aberdeen, Maryland. We ordered pizza, drank some Yuengling, and watched some South Park before hitting the lights in preparation for the next day. I was taking him out for his first time fly fishing on the Gunpowder River. Needless to say, he was pretty pumped to get out in the middle of the woods and try his hand at the sport.

Shocker Works A Run, As Light Makes Its Way Upstream.

Nymphing A Deep Run. 

Falling Leaves on the Gunpowder.

My buddy, Kevin Schoch, aka "Shocker," has very poor vision that is only somewhat correctable by glasses. This combined with the fact that I am not a guide, made for some interesting scenarios. I rigged up two rods for the day, one with a dry fly and the other with a nymph rig under a bright thingamabobber. We descended down into the ravine below Prettyboy Reservoir and began working the pocket-water there. This area of the river has some of the most scenic holes I have ever fished. I knew that it is also home to a plethora of small, eager trout. 

Prettyboy Dam.

 

A Little Brown Stone.

It Was A Good Thing Shocker Was on the Swim Team Too.

I began by instructing him how to cast the required 15-20 feet, mend the line, high stick, and set the hook. It only took a few casts to get a solid hook up. I yelled set,set,set! Shocker set the hook and played a small rainbow for a few moments before some slack line allowed the kamloops bow to shake the hook. It also only took a few casts to realize that I would have to be Shocker's eyes. He could see the thingamabobber but could not tell when it dipped, stopped, or moved from a trout's take. The added milliseconds between me yelling set, Shocker setting the hook, and for the line to become taunt on the fish created many missed fish & takes. It took quite some time before we got on the same page and had another chance at a take. 

However, we were both up for the challenge and when he finally got that brown, the experience was all the more fulfilling for the both of us. It was a total team effort. I was super pumped when we landed that first fish. I can vividly recall the first trout I ever caught on the fly and I hope he will too. 

All Smiles, Shocker's First Trout.

Close Up To Always Be Remembered.

The Fly Used & The Natural. 

We pressed on up stream and switched over to the dry fly. I instructed Shocker on how to roll cast down and across stream and mend the line to create a drag free downstream approach. This led to even more hits and strikes. Shocker then caught his first trout ever on a dry fly off of a roll cast. This was awesome! While we moved upstream, I had the chance to fish some tight lies and nab some browns myself. 

Attempting To Roll Cast.

First Trout on the Dry.

Butch Caddis Scores Once Again. 

All in all, it was beautiful day to be on the water. Low 70s, clear blue skies, a slight breeze, and falling leaves created an ideal setting for someone's first time fly fishing. I thoroughly enjoyed being there for Shocker's every cast and the highs and lows of missed fish and gnarly bird nest tangles. Next time, Shocker will land that 14 inch beauty along that shallow run. I guarantee it. 

Brown Amongst Leaves.

Prince Nymph Shocks A Brown.

Biggest Gunpowder Brown Yet.

Gunpowder Day One.

After another long week teaching, I spent my Friday night tying flies, drinking beer, and semi-watching A River Runs Through It in the background. I was gearing up for the Gunpowder River in Maryland and was pumped to get on the water for two days. The next morning, I made the hour and a half long trip north of Baltimore to do battle with some of the smallest & smartest trout I have ever fished for. 

Fall on the Gunpowder.

Typical Gunpowder Scenario.

They Were Stuck...

He Was Mad.

Typical Gunpowder Brown.

Butch Caddis Scores.

I arrived around 1:30 and the place was quite crowded. I made my way down to the stream and sight fished to several 7-8 inch browns in the low gin clear water. I was using a size 22 BWO dry fly on 7x that was probably too large to match the bugs on the water. Despite the size, I missed several fish. I was rusty because I didn't fish tiny dries on tiny tippet to trout all summer. Carp will do that to you. After awhile, I finally found a groove and landed some of the beautiful fish. I later transitioned to a butch caddis and a tiny midge dropper and continued to catch fish all along a nice run. I ran into about a dozen fisherman on my way upstream. Surprisingly, no one got mad at one another, which is a very good thing. 

Beadhead Soft Hackle Pheasant Tail.

Kamloops Rainbow Trout.

Thank You Kelly Galloup For Your Butch Caddis.

Descending Brown.

As the sun fell, I caught several more on tiny dries. It was rather hard to make out their subtle takes in the dark conditions. Around 8 o'clock, I realized I was by myself in the middle of the woods and had a long hike out. I attached the headlamp and scrambled  my way over boulders & logs before finding the path. I ascended the ravine and made the long hike back to my truck without incident. It was a good time. 

 In The Dark & On The Dry.

Gunpowder Day One.

After another long week teaching, I spent my Friday night tying flies, drinking beer, and semi-watching A River Runs Through It in the background. I was gearing up for the Gunpowder River in Maryland and was pumped to get on the water for two days. The next morning, I made the hour and a half long trip north of Baltimore to do battle with some of the smallest & smartest trout I have ever fished for. 

Fall on the Gunpowder.

Typical Gunpowder Scenario.

They Were Stuck...

He Was Mad.

Typical Gunpowder Brown.

Butch Caddis Scores.

I arrived around 1:30 and the place was quite crowded. I made my way down to the stream and sight fished to several 7-8 inch browns in the low gin clear water. I was using a size 22 BWO dry fly on 7x that was probably too large to match the bugs on the water. Despite the size, I missed several fish. I was rusty because I didn't fish tiny dries on tiny tippet to trout all summer. Carp will do that to you. After awhile, I finally found a groove and landed some of the beautiful fish. I later transitioned to a butch caddis and a tiny midge dropper and continued to catch fish all along a nice run. I ran into about a dozen fisherman on my way upstream. Surprisingly, no one got mad at one another, which is a very good thing. 

Beadhead Soft Hackle Pheasant Tail.

Kamloops Rainbow Trout.

Thank You Kelly Galloup For Your Butch Caddis.

Descending Brown.

As the sun fell, I caught several more on tiny dries. It was rather hard to make out their subtle takes in the dark conditions. Around 8 o'clock, I realized I was by myself in the middle of the woods and had a long hike out. I attached the headlamp and scrambled  my way over boulders & logs before finding the path. I ascended the ravine and made the long hike back to my truck without incident. It was a good time. 

 In The Dark & On The Dry.

Finding Time...

Between Mark teaching and me still in school we have little time in which to spend on the water together. We decided one Saturday morning to converge on Lake X to do some carpin. We arrived at sunrise to find a population of spooky (conditioned) carp that bolted at the sight of your fly. This scenario is a welcome one to me because it is indeed my fault that they are so spooky.

Mark and I fished our way around the lake with no luck. Then I spotted a lone cruiser 40 feet out, gave him a decent lead and watched him come over and suck it in. During the fight the fish must have dislodged the fly and got re-hooked in one of his attempts to bury itself deep within the weeds, because when I finally landed him the fly was right outside his mouth. I guess technically it wasn’t a legit catch but I didn’t care, I watched him eat fly and getting one to do that on this day was a feat in itself.

Carp Will Make One Do Weird Things...

Not too long after landing my fish, Mark had hooked up in “carp cove”. Carp cove is where about half of the carp population usually resides, making fishing for these fish quite difficult. I hadn’t seen Mark so happy in a long time. There is something about fishing for carp that is unlike any other…it’s the feeling you get after being refused 30 times in a row and then finally hooking up, and in that instance where the fish boils and takes off…well, it’s the best feeling in the world. PERIOD…

Tongue Out...Quite Pleased.

Finding Time...

Between Mark teaching and me still in school we have little time in which to spend on the water together. We decided one Saturday morning to converge on Lake X to do some carpin. We arrived at sunrise to find a population of spooky (conditioned) carp that bolted at the sight of your fly. This scenario is a welcome one to me because it is indeed my fault that they are so spooky.

Mark and I fished our way around the lake with no luck. Then I spotted a lone cruiser 40 feet out, gave him a decent lead and watched him come over and suck it in. During the fight the fish must have dislodged the fly and got re-hooked in one of his attempts to bury itself deep within the weeds, because when I finally landed him the fly was right outside his mouth. I guess technically it wasn’t a legit catch but I didn’t care, I watched him eat fly and getting one to do that on this day was a feat in itself.

Carp Will Make One Do Weird Things...

Not too long after landing my fish, Mark had hooked up in “carp cove”. Carp cove is where about half of the carp population usually resides, making fishing for these fish quite difficult. I hadn’t seen Mark so happy in a long time. There is something about fishing for carp that is unlike any other…it’s the feeling you get after being refused 30 times in a row and then finally hooking up, and in that instance where the fish boils and takes off…well, it’s the best feeling in the world. PERIOD…

Tongue Out...Quite Pleased.

School's Out.

I left school in a hurry. The 8th period bell rang, my students left and I followed the herd down the hall and out the front doors. I made my way out to the truck threw my bag in the back, carefully stowed away a mountain of work to be graded and hopped in. My destination was home, a quick two hour ride up I95 and the PA turnpike. I was going fishing and could not wait to be on the water. For the past three weeks I had not gone fishing and was itching to get away for awhile and find some solitude. Life as a first year teacher has been pretty daunting. Week five and I am in survival mode. The kids are used to my awkwardness and are starting to probe for weaknesses in my defense. A long week filled with after school work, grading, and parent teacher night has led to this singular moment. A two hour ride to the promised land.

In Typical Fashion, I Heard Adam Before I Saw Him.

Sun Setting On The Lehigh.

The Trout & Spiders Were Content.

I am heading to the Lehigh River. BWOs and Isos have been coming off strong and I intended to fish one of my favorite spots with a friend. A quick phone call revealed that they were coming off and the fish were rising everywhere. I realized I was still over an hour away and my buddy was probably picking and choosing his quarry. I finally arrived at the destination and before I saw Adam, I heard him whooping and hollering as he fought a brown trout. I descended a steep cliff and slid down some loose spree and snapped some photos. I looked around and embraced the scenery. I took my good old time rigging up and preceded to fish some unfamiliar lies. After missing a few fish on the swing, I waded across river. I reached the honey hole but most of the activity had stopped. I talked with Adam for a little bit then tried my luck. I had zero rises to my dry nor any takes on my soft hackle dropper. The fish were full. I fished until dark and then sat along the river bank gazing up into the unknown. The moon was out shining brightly down on the river. A smattering of far off suns could be seen above the mountain range. I took it all in. The sound of rushing water and the smell of the river was satisfying. I didn't care at all that I didn't catch a fish. I was where I wanted to be and thats all I really cared about.

The View From My Rock.

Adam's Quarry.

Lehigh Browns.

Knubs.

Healthy Brown.

The Release.