jayL
Active member
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2007
- Messages
- 9,947
I was driving back to the squalid city this afternoon after a weekend of fishing at the old hometown. I got to thinking about the events of the weekend. Beers at the old birdsboro firehall, sleeping in the truck while waiting for 8am, hitting up the old stretch of french creek that always provides a shot at a monster, my friend losing a 12lb (no lie, it was caught and weighed later) orange ugly... and then I thought about one of the cooler moments of the weekend.
We were walking past a "dead" (or unstocked, but certainly productive) section of Hay creek en route to the pods of stocked fish. I noticed a splashy rise, presumably to a stonefly, as they were hatching. Then another. Prime opportunity you say?
I caught both of the 8 or 9 inch wild browns on the brown conehead krystal bugger from the swap. Nice fly, by the way.
Send me out of town on a pike for missing my first dry fly opportunity of the young season (though I've caught fish on top in unstocked streams recently). Oh well, there's always next time. Stupid numb hands and an ever shortening tippet are to blame I say.
We were walking past a "dead" (or unstocked, but certainly productive) section of Hay creek en route to the pods of stocked fish. I noticed a splashy rise, presumably to a stonefly, as they were hatching. Then another. Prime opportunity you say?
I caught both of the 8 or 9 inch wild browns on the brown conehead krystal bugger from the swap. Nice fly, by the way.
Send me out of town on a pike for missing my first dry fly opportunity of the young season (though I've caught fish on top in unstocked streams recently). Oh well, there's always next time. Stupid numb hands and an ever shortening tippet are to blame I say.