Moonlight Browns on the Little J

Evening Brown

Last Springs' trip to the trouty waters of the Keystone State left an
indelible impression ... Henry and I couldn't wait to get back...Sulphur hatch
anyone?   Our trip was built around hitting the Little Juanita just west of
Spruce Creek, PA. but like so many of our trips we tried to sneak in a few
other waters while we were in the area.  

We agreed to meet late in the 
Afternoon in the crossroads town of Reedsville to hit one of
three streams which converge in town; Tea Creek, Honey Creek and 
Kishacoquilla Creek. Arriving after a long drive we found waters which while
just fishable (maybe) were still recovering from recent rain and were quite swollen. 

Fishing Caravan

East Branch Standing Stone Creek

In these situations it's wise to seek higher ground so after some
map study and a quick blog dive we decided to try the East Branch of
Standing Stone Creek as it tumbles out of Greenwood Furnace State Park
Reservoir. This is a smallish tailwater freestoner with good access tucked
just off Greenwood Road which along with East Branch Road parallels the
creek for miles.   The water was at a nice pool and all seemed lined up for
a fishy evening accept me!   

Hen's Brown at S Stone Creek

The drive and early morning had tuckered me out and in the dwindling light I was stuck in my own twilight haze of wind knots and limbs.   Henry fared better and was able to salvage the evening with a
small brown....and as you know any trout is infinitely better than no trout at all!   Sweat-drained and hiked back to truck and jeep and made our way southwest to Huntington, PA.    Huntington, its' main street decimated by progress (Walmart) is the most substantial community in the mountainous 90 miles between  Harrisburg and State College/Altoona.  The mountain ridgesrun generally north-south and are bisected by the Juanita River, which joins the Susquehanna 12 miles north of Harrisburg.  Just west of Huntington several forks of the Juniata converge to form the main stem.  

Spruce Creek small Brown

Our target was the Little Juanita once a mine-polluted dead river now a thriving
ecosystem with a high density of self-sustaining brown trout.  After good
steaks at Mimi's Café in Huntington and avoiding the glare from the flood
lights illuminating SCI Huntington we settled down for a well-deserved rest
at a friendly and clean Fairfield Inn.  Thoughts of the day ahead didn't
allow for deep sleep and we were up again at 0445 with coffee and sugar
coursing through our veins and headed for Spruce Creek where we intended to
fish the bottom .5 mile Penn State College Easement on this famed water.
The conditions seemed ideal but after a quick brown on the third cast the
trout didn't cooperate and after 3 hours of running dual droppers under an
indicators we were ready to check out the Little J.   

We stopped by Performance Flies in Spruce Creek and chatted with Kevin 

who'd steered us to success last year.   Kevin let us know that the Sulphur 

hatch was running later in the day than last year and he didn't expect to see 

them on the surface till 1930 or later!  Heck last year the hatch was in the late afternoon and I'd planned on the same, but we'd traveled far enough thatthere was no question we'd wait out the hatch. 

Typical size 14 Sulphur Fly

Sulphur caught in flight

Kevin validated some good

water we'd researched downstream and around a mountain in Barree, PA.   5

left turns from his fly shop later we were parked and looking at the Little

J running at about 590 cfs.   

The norm for this time of year is 390 cfs so

it was cookin and a bit stained.   We were both happy to note that our

target pool for the hatch was upstream of Spruce Creek's 100 cfs

contribution to the Little J and would be that much slower/lower.

Initially we didn't have a lot of luck and found ourselves expending a lot

of energy to hold our thigh-deep positions in the heavy water but soon

copied an angler upstream who'd unlocked the code....find the run/channel

w/in the expansive flow and high stick nymphs through the deeper channels

and seams.  Henry figured it out first and then put me on a run which put a

smile on my face as each of us took multiple browns from a deep trough.

Weird for me I then took three spills in loaded with water trudged back to

the jeep to strip down and dry out.  Henry continued fishing for a bit and

pulled another couple from the a lake section downstream from our parking

spot. 

Sulphur Nymph in size 14 was very effective

At about 1500, exhausted but looking forward to the evening hatch we drove

to our target pool just off  Pemberton Road and prepared for the evening.

With time to spare and few other anglers in the area yet (we were prepared

to throw elbows) we worked up and down the river for a few hundred yards

picking up 9-11" browns in the deeper holes on Sulphur nymphs.  

Henry was

itching to head downstream to check out what we'll call the trestle-bend in

the river, Kevin had recommended it and soon enough Henry was beyond the far

curve, out of sight and I hoped faring well.   I caught another two browns

and marked our below the bridge preferred positions as anglers arrived

preceding the hatch.    

By 1930 there was still no hatch and Henry, a

slow-charging water buffalo began his upstream assault on the river shedding

equal parts liquid from his waders and brow.   He was exhausted but far from

conquered by the walk and deep "swim" he'd taken at the trestle pool having

found some great water and meaty browns.   I vouch for two water smeared

pictures that didn't make the blog but the fish were there.  

By 2000 a light

Sulphur hatch had appeared and the swallows were plucking them off the

water...still few rising trout.   I was rigged with a size 14 parachute

Sulphur waiting for the hatch to strengthen  and at about 2030 with darkness

dropping like a stage curtain I cut off my dry and tied on our final sulphur

dropper as Henry nearly thwarted by the darkness managed to tie on a dry.

This turned out to be my best move of the trip as the hatch never got thick

and but the browns were obviously feeding subsurface on sulphurs rising in

the water column and I caught 4 browns two in the 13-14 inch range in the

space of the final 15 minutes until darkness enveloped us completely.  

 

Last Brown of the Day ..camera was fighting for light (moonlight)

HogCamp Branch April 2018

James taking a break descending Dark Hollow Falls on Hog Camp Branch

The main flow of Rose River comes from Hog Camp Branch and the hike down below Dark Hollow Falls Trail is one you don't take lightly.  I told James it wasn't far from Skyline Drive horizontally but it is vertically. 

Keeping low to hide his approach James stalks a mountain pool

We parked and geared up at 28 degrees 3500' feet on skyline Drive and carefully made our way down the steep trail with our gear packed in Mountain rucks.   It was an easy hike down and about 200m in we began to see brook trout inexplicably high up in the plunge pools. At the bottom of dark Hollow Falls we geared up and stashed our packs under a log and headed another 15 minutes down Hog Camp Branch Trail to a lovely little bridge just above where the namesake Rose rivulet joins HogCamp to form Rose River. 

The Mr. Rapidan parachute is a hard fly to beat

A perfect brookie pool on the Upper Rose

Unlike last Friday there were no bugs in the air and the fishing was corresponding slow as the trout kept low in the water with their eyes down and ahead instead of up looking for a hatch. 

Believe it or not there are 19 brook trout in each of these two pictures...see if you can find some

 We had a great time and each caught our share of trout but it wasn't a gang buster day.    My best catch came in the last pool and bathtub sized plunge pool at the base of Dark Hollow Falls where I caught the very same trout I caught there last year.

Mature brookie from bathtub hole April 2018

Same brookie April 2017....amazing colors

Driftless in Wisconsin

Several corners of the country have a distinct trouty flavor, northern lakes, Appalachian freestone rivers, tailwater browns and bows, western mountain cutthroats, etc., there are more and another is the Driftless area of the northern-Midwest.  

Weeks ago I asked Scott if he could spare time for an Old Dominion fishing holiday and he told me that his dance card was full with a trip to his old haunts in the Driftless area of SW Wisconsin…did I want to come?   We’d talked about this area on are many adventures together and as he knew…be careful when you ask me to join you because I’ll try my best to make it.

Meaty Driftless Brown

Scott high sticks a run

 The driftless spans Minnesota, Wisconsin, NW Illinois and NE Iowa and was never covered (carved) by glacier.   The rolling terrain continues to be cleaved by the main stem of the Mississippi River and 600+ tributaries as they continue to sculpt the bedrock. Sorry King James, but the rock exposed rock in this area is 500-million years old.  The name itself refers to the lack of ‘gravel-drift’ (not present) in the area. The largest portion of the Driftless area lies in Wisconsin and is bordered by the Chippewa River to the North and the Wisconsin River to the East.    If you’re looking on a map pick out Lacrosse, WI, look just SE and you’ll be in the right area.

Scott and I met in Milwaukee Thursday morning marveling at how Southwest Airlines makes the fishing world a lot smaller.  After grabbing a cup of coffee and snacks at familiar store in Delafield, where Scott used to teach, we pushed west toward Madison and then rolled onto State Hwy 14 toward Richlands Center where we linked up with an old friend of Scott’s.   

Len (behind Scott) put us on his favorite water

Len guided in the Driftless for years and over trips with Scott a friendship took root. With Scott catching up with Len I followed in our rental as we motored 20-min west through rolling farmland to waters you’ll need to ask Len about if you want to ever get there ☺.   It was a treat for both of us to soak up his local insights as we adjusted to this fishery. Len was as direct, kind and knowledgeable and after I passed casting test muster we fished together with Len deferring to us on choice holes then pulling golden-spotted browns out of each hole Scott and I had just worked (Ah…local expertise makes a HUGE difference)!  

This was a learning experience; the tree & scrub lined creek bank and silty/soil bottom lend it itself to bank fishing with bulky black buggers flickering through narrow back cast windows. We fished until the sun settled below a hill to the west and we were all worn out from a long day which had started in VA for me and FL for Scott. After a quick good bye and thanks to Len we were on our way West to the small farming town and fishing center of Viroqua where an overall wearing fella eyed me as a stranger and asked what I was up to, and when I said fishing, he replied,  “that’s good because there’s not much else going on around here.”

The runs and run outs were picture perfect

 We tucked ourselves into the nicest hotel in town boasting a large trout where the sign might once have said Comfort Inn.  And after a quick shower we limped across the street at ‘Gassers’ a fine-enough-for-us sports bar with a local “W” amber lager which washed down our calories, soothed our stiff joints and eased us off to sleep.

We were excited to get on the water so after a pretty darn fine coffee & muffin we headed northwest to the West Fork of the Kickapoo River in vicinity of the tiny hamlet of Avalanche.  We headed upstream from a WI TU Camping convention and found some empty lovely water. We parked streamside rigged up 4 & 5wts and slid through the thick 34 degree morning down a bank and into the mid-50 degree water of the WF Kickapoo.  

Drifting tandem nymphs under indicators we soon picked up small feisty browns in the tailouts of flows and bankside and had expectant feel they wouldn’t be the last.Nymph selection didn’t seem to matter and we picked up trout on prince, hares-ear, pheasant-tail and pink-squirrel nymphs.  What DID matter was attentiveness to a dragless high stick presentation and to the degree the degree possible a stealthy masked approach.  

In retrospect, many indicator ‘bumps’ we read as nymphs dragging the bottom were active browns feeding at the bottom of the water column. We/ I also fell into the tempting trap of long casts until Scott and I conferred and decided that those long casts subjected the floating line to too much current dragging the indicator & nymphs unnaturally and harming the presentation.  This truism endured and once understood we both picked up many more trout.

As the sun peaked over the low ridge to the East the browns started getting bigger and native brookies entered the mix. There was one amazing ripple-run where Scott picked up 6-7 brookies in so many drifts but beyond that exciting aberration browns outnumbered brookies 3:1.

We might have stayed longer, lunch could wait with the fishing this good, but we saw flyrod rod tips swaying like corn in the wind in the next horseshoe bend and decided to call it a morning.  We didn’t count fish but fist bumped an amazing morning. As we walked back streamside through a lovely field we passed a grandfather, his black lab puppy scout greeting all, fishing with his son and two grandchildren …good living.

Legacy Brookie with Scott's Dad favorite fly

After visiting a Subway in full fishing gear (they didn’t bat an eye) we headed SE to Nerdlo Creek to a Small stretch where Scott looked forward to revisiting a special bend in the creek.  We parked off the road and worked our way down a high and steep bluff till we slid into the creek 150m below our target hole. We fished up to the hole w/o success as the water looked to good to pass up, but something in the waters’ DNA causes the browns to stack up in this one 30’ section….wow.  I’ve forgotten who hooked the first brown, but it didn’t matter as we took turns casting, catching and marveling at the productivity of the water. I’ve heard driftless browns described as wild and spooky….these were hungry and aggressive!

This was probably our biggest brown of the trip

12-15 trout out of the top of this hole

After regaining our bearings on our trusty Delorme Scott found a run-out from a flood impoundment he remembered held a brood of brookies, so he rigged-up with his dad’s favorite fly, a classic NE mickey finn pattern, and in remembering his dad, hooked-up a small brookie from the mini-van sized hole.

Amazing natural camoflage

We tried to bribe our way to our final water of the day, but either the ornery farm owners
weren’t in or they didn’t have a taste for the MGD Scott carried in greeting, we’ll never know.  We drove
upstream, just out of shotgun range, rigged up and shimmied under the barbed wire and electrified fence
(yep… “ZZZZZZ” there was plenty of current flowing…but it didn’t really hurt) and made a beeline
for a steeply cut bank.  The streamer fishing in this section of Nerdlo wasn’t what Scott
remembered; the access was REALLY tough: high banks, thick-deadfall and silty,
sinking muck, etc. but we BTH enough browns and a few brookies to make it worthwhile.
Exhausted, dehydrated but very happy we limped back to the car and headed back to
Viroqua to lick our wounds, drink a few beers and fortify ourselves for the next day.

We decided to head back to the WF Kickapoo for the morning

of our last day and we slid into the cold water at 0820.    The water

on Thursday had been a surprisingly warm 62, this water must have been

no more than 55, cold and clear. With lessons learned in our pocket

we worked our drags and drifts and having released more than

our share of brooks and browns already we stalked and

partner-fished the likely water.  After you’ve caught

enough it’s just as fun to scout water and guide

your in-stream buddy.

As 95% of the fish are in 5% of the water finding that

water, those micro runs and holding water and feeding

stations and then directing a successful cast and drift is a great

feeling. The Browns didn’t disappoint especially in ‘redemption hole’

which we’d doubled back to hit where we caught 12-15 until their jaws were

sore and we were looking for lunch.    

Scott knows lots of driftless water and one last spot he wanted to try was Knapp Creek,

smaller spring-fed water flowing through a picturesque farm.   As we approached, I wasn’t impressed,

it looked tiny flowing below the small bridge where we parked, but Scott was confident so we walked ¾

of a mile downstream and hoped in.  We didn’t know if this would be streamer or nymph fishing and after

not having much luck with either and feeling a bit worn out we began to see the telltale rings of rising trout

and a flittering hatch just off the surface.   

Scott guided me to a bend with an active riser and we took our

first brown on a size 19 parachute BWO. This made our day as there’s little we enjoy more than taking

rising trout on dry flies. Casting through narrow windows we fished the last half mile back to our car

targeting and catching aggressive rising browns and brookies.  The adrenal jolt when a well presented

fly is smacked by an aggressive trout is amazing. We finally made it back to our car and with a 3 hour

drive back to Milwaukee ahead of us we stowed our gear and headed out with plans to be back again.