klingy
Active member
- Joined
- Jul 31, 2010
- Messages
- 583
I have the opportunity to take a long weekend each fall to fish with my dad. We usually stay at Penn Roosevelt State Park, and fish the waters within about a 20 mile radius. This opens up a huge amount of water. Penn’s, Little J, Kish, Fishing, Bald Eagle, Spring – the list goes on. It’s sometimes hard to decide where to go.
The most enjoyable part of this trip each year is that we don’t really plan much other than where and what we’re going to eat. For three days we go to wherever feels right, or wherever we haven’t fished in a while. The pace is slower than usual. There is a lot of pausing and taking in the change of seasons. I love sitting on the banks of Penn’s in the fall and just watching.
This year, we had an exceptional time. It was one of those trips where I didn’t change my rig too often – a hopper (size 14 letort) dropper (size 16 bhpt). The fish came steadily. Enough takes on the hopper lead to fishing it without the dropper, and let me just disappear into the scenery and focus singly on drifting the fly through. Relaxation.
First we hit Bald Eagle – which I always enjoy fishing more than I remember. What a great fall stream.
Then to the Little J. Don’t have to say any more.
Penn’s was next. Low but fishable. More risers than I can ever remember.
The highlight was hitting some of the smaller limestone feeders to the Frankstown Branch. What perfect little streams. Not too tight to cast, but big enough to hold fish that will put a bend in the rod. Found a hole with about 10 little browns stacked up. Stayed for an hour. Had a blast.
The passing of summer to fall couldn’t come soon enough for me this year. The smell of leaves on the ground and smoke in the air. Breath turning to steam. Flashlights out as we walk back into our campsite. Sausage on the fire, and trout rising silently in the swirl of passing leaves. Another fall in Pennsylvania.
The most enjoyable part of this trip each year is that we don’t really plan much other than where and what we’re going to eat. For three days we go to wherever feels right, or wherever we haven’t fished in a while. The pace is slower than usual. There is a lot of pausing and taking in the change of seasons. I love sitting on the banks of Penn’s in the fall and just watching.
This year, we had an exceptional time. It was one of those trips where I didn’t change my rig too often – a hopper (size 14 letort) dropper (size 16 bhpt). The fish came steadily. Enough takes on the hopper lead to fishing it without the dropper, and let me just disappear into the scenery and focus singly on drifting the fly through. Relaxation.
First we hit Bald Eagle – which I always enjoy fishing more than I remember. What a great fall stream.
Then to the Little J. Don’t have to say any more.
Penn’s was next. Low but fishable. More risers than I can ever remember.
The highlight was hitting some of the smaller limestone feeders to the Frankstown Branch. What perfect little streams. Not too tight to cast, but big enough to hold fish that will put a bend in the rod. Found a hole with about 10 little browns stacked up. Stayed for an hour. Had a blast.
The passing of summer to fall couldn’t come soon enough for me this year. The smell of leaves on the ground and smoke in the air. Breath turning to steam. Flashlights out as we walk back into our campsite. Sausage on the fire, and trout rising silently in the swirl of passing leaves. Another fall in Pennsylvania.
