salmonoid
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jun 19, 2007
- Messages
- 2,758
Having put in my obligatory beach weekend with the family the first weekend in August, I was a bit surprised when my wife stated at the end of the weekend that she wanted to go down again the next weekend. Camping at the beach just isn't my thing, but the kids like it, so I do my duty as a father and am at least physically present. Knowing this, my wife dutily relieved me of any obligations to return for a second weekend in a row, but before the first weekend was over, it dawned on me that a perfect opportunity existed to get away, without creating any additional family separation time. So as the idea rattled around in my head, I cautiously (and probably over eagerly) broached the subject. It was met with a cool reception, but Wednesday afternoon, I went from being a potential videoconference attendee at a meeting in State College on Thursday afternoon, to being an in person attendee and this tipped the idea in my mind from a weekend trip being a good possibility to having it become reality. With a little negotiating (I had to concede the October Caddis weekend, for now anyway), I quickly threw together my gear Wednesday night and after my meeting Thursday, headed off to the woods.
A lot of places I go, even locally, don't have cell service. Most of the times, this is a blessing, because there are no chances of any outside world distractions. There's no chance that a phone not in airplane mode will pick up the stray email from work, that in turn makes your mind think about whatever immediate drama surfaced in the words of that message. Where I was headed to fit this bill perfectly. Or so I thought. As I drove up the road, I encountered a new stretch of cell service, about 45 minutes away. I started wondering if the cellular providers were beginning to build out more infrastructure and was almost dismayed to find full 4g service, with full bars driving down the last dirt road to the parking lot. The signal faded in and out in the lot (mostly out), but one more tether to the outside world had thrust its way into my outing. On the positive side, as I walked out the road, I was able to text my location to the family, and this simple form of communication provides some level of comfort. I fished for about an hour, managing only one small brookie. But I was delighted to find that the water was running a cool 63 degrees near the mouth of the stream. I've taken temps that were 10-15 degrees higher there in Augusts of the past, which is a testament to the cooler summer we are having this year. Anyway, as I neared the parking area, I came up on one of the holes that I located a big brown in a few years ago. That hole has caused me to generally drive up the night before I go packfishing, since it is within easy walking distance of where I park. But, as stream systems are dynamic, all holes are destined to die or at least change, and that happened here. The last time I was here, the hole had shallowed up, the result of a large fallen tree that was previously pointed straight downstream getting washed out of the hole completely. There was still a nice under cut bank, but this time, the under cut proved to be too much for the tree that was growing on it, and the tree had fallen into the stream. Upstream from the tree is a tangle of smaller trees and still a bit of a hole, but it is essentially unfishable at night. So it became clear that night fishing probably wasn't going to happen this particular evening.
I've spent many a night sleeping in the seat of a car or truck, because I've been out night fishing too late to want to take the time or energy to set up a tent. So I just crash in the vehicle. But tonight, I decided I might as well set up the tent and get a better night's sleep than is usual for my first night. But before I did that, I decided that with my proximity to cell service, I might as well make the call home to say goodnight to the family. I drove down the dirt road until I had solid signal. 4g. Full bars. Pressed the call button. "No Mobile Network is available". Weird. I backed down a driveway. Power cycled the phone. Same result when I tried to make a call. So I decided to drive to the end of the road and try from there. It was dark at this point, maybe about 9:15. I pulled off the road in front of the stop sign, left the car running and turned off the lights. Tried to make a call. No mobile network is available... Sat there looking at my phone and decided to just send a text through. I must have looked like I was in trouble, sitting there in the car, staring at my phone in the dark, because I was quite startled when someone knocked on my car window. I rolled down the window and saw a teenage boy holding a fly rod. He asked me if everything was ok and I explained I was just sending out a text to the family, using the newly installed cell service in the area.
Talk quickly turned to fishing. I asked him how he had done. He said he hadn't caught any but they were down in the stream jumping in the dark. I asked him if he ever night fished and he said no. But his pap had talked about the days when they would throw poppers and plugs for fish at night - called it "pluggin' it". His pap's cabin was just down the road and he was staying just a few yards behind where I was parked. The guy said he had been fishing flies, and then switched it up to using a wax worm. I asked him if he ever fished a mouse and he said no. So I opened up my fly box of mice and gave him two. Told him to try them, and he said he was going to do just that, after he went back to the cabin. I changed my mind about turning in early and told him I would join him - down by the cabins, just upstream from the little rocky jut.
So I rigged up my rod, tied on a mouse, and by this time, he had returned from the cabin. We walked down to the stream together and he asked how to fish the mouse. I told him you could twitch it, to which he responded "like a streamer?" and I said yes, sort of. Or you could just let it dead drift. He wanted to know if rainbows would hit at night; I guessed they would, although the only rainbow type I've ever caught on a mouse was a steelhead on a Lake Erie trib, and I don't typically nightfish waters that have rainbows in them. So we settled down, about 20 yards apart and began casting. Every now and then, we'd hear a splash - those where the "jumpers" he was referring to. After about half a dozen casts, he got his first strike, and I could tell by his voice, that he was excited. A few casts later, he had his first hookup, which also generated excitement. But the fish quickly slipped off. He hooked up a second time, with the same result, and after half a dozen casts more, I heard him exclaim that the darn fish had ripped off his mouse. He came out of the water, and said he was going back up to the cabin to get the other mouse I had given him. Wanted to know how much they cost, and if he could give me a couple of bucks for a few more. I assured him that wasn't necessary, and to save the trip back up and I gave him another mouse from my chest pack. The reward of hearing his excitement in that first half hour was priceless compared to whatever pittance the mice cost. A little bit later, he exclaimed that he had missed another fish, this time on a simple dead drift.
After a bit, we exchanged spots. I moved upstream, he moved downstream. He had the better location to start with 🙂 After switching, I felt the pull of a fish on two consecutive casts, but simply couldn't seal the deal. It was two days shy of full moon, so visibility was great and while vision is usually one of the senses that is downplayed while night fishing, with a near full moon, it complements the tactile and audible triggers the night fisherperson begins to rely on. I heard a few more excited comments from the youngster but he was unable to land any fish. Shortly before midnight, he came over and thanked me again for giving him the mice. He said he never knew there was another dry type fly you could fish, like a mouse, let alone at night. And he would definitely be back. I wished him the best of luck, and I sincerely hope he hooked up with and landed a fish one of the next two nights. I flailed away in the dark for a bit longer, inducing a few more strikes, but threw in the towel a bit before midnight.
Still had it in me to setup the tent this time around, and I awoke feeling refreshed, although three full hours after I wanted to be up and on the stream fishing. That was probably ok though; the air was chilly (upper 40s) and the mountains were obscured by fog. My next night fishing opportunity was several miles away by foot and darkness was still many hours away. I was a bit further upstream from the mouth and water temperature had dropped to 57 degrees overnight. So, I heated up some water for coffee and a hot granola breakfast, labored over putting my pack together, and started out upstream.
To Be Continued...
A lot of places I go, even locally, don't have cell service. Most of the times, this is a blessing, because there are no chances of any outside world distractions. There's no chance that a phone not in airplane mode will pick up the stray email from work, that in turn makes your mind think about whatever immediate drama surfaced in the words of that message. Where I was headed to fit this bill perfectly. Or so I thought. As I drove up the road, I encountered a new stretch of cell service, about 45 minutes away. I started wondering if the cellular providers were beginning to build out more infrastructure and was almost dismayed to find full 4g service, with full bars driving down the last dirt road to the parking lot. The signal faded in and out in the lot (mostly out), but one more tether to the outside world had thrust its way into my outing. On the positive side, as I walked out the road, I was able to text my location to the family, and this simple form of communication provides some level of comfort. I fished for about an hour, managing only one small brookie. But I was delighted to find that the water was running a cool 63 degrees near the mouth of the stream. I've taken temps that were 10-15 degrees higher there in Augusts of the past, which is a testament to the cooler summer we are having this year. Anyway, as I neared the parking area, I came up on one of the holes that I located a big brown in a few years ago. That hole has caused me to generally drive up the night before I go packfishing, since it is within easy walking distance of where I park. But, as stream systems are dynamic, all holes are destined to die or at least change, and that happened here. The last time I was here, the hole had shallowed up, the result of a large fallen tree that was previously pointed straight downstream getting washed out of the hole completely. There was still a nice under cut bank, but this time, the under cut proved to be too much for the tree that was growing on it, and the tree had fallen into the stream. Upstream from the tree is a tangle of smaller trees and still a bit of a hole, but it is essentially unfishable at night. So it became clear that night fishing probably wasn't going to happen this particular evening.
I've spent many a night sleeping in the seat of a car or truck, because I've been out night fishing too late to want to take the time or energy to set up a tent. So I just crash in the vehicle. But tonight, I decided I might as well set up the tent and get a better night's sleep than is usual for my first night. But before I did that, I decided that with my proximity to cell service, I might as well make the call home to say goodnight to the family. I drove down the dirt road until I had solid signal. 4g. Full bars. Pressed the call button. "No Mobile Network is available". Weird. I backed down a driveway. Power cycled the phone. Same result when I tried to make a call. So I decided to drive to the end of the road and try from there. It was dark at this point, maybe about 9:15. I pulled off the road in front of the stop sign, left the car running and turned off the lights. Tried to make a call. No mobile network is available... Sat there looking at my phone and decided to just send a text through. I must have looked like I was in trouble, sitting there in the car, staring at my phone in the dark, because I was quite startled when someone knocked on my car window. I rolled down the window and saw a teenage boy holding a fly rod. He asked me if everything was ok and I explained I was just sending out a text to the family, using the newly installed cell service in the area.
Talk quickly turned to fishing. I asked him how he had done. He said he hadn't caught any but they were down in the stream jumping in the dark. I asked him if he ever night fished and he said no. But his pap had talked about the days when they would throw poppers and plugs for fish at night - called it "pluggin' it". His pap's cabin was just down the road and he was staying just a few yards behind where I was parked. The guy said he had been fishing flies, and then switched it up to using a wax worm. I asked him if he ever fished a mouse and he said no. So I opened up my fly box of mice and gave him two. Told him to try them, and he said he was going to do just that, after he went back to the cabin. I changed my mind about turning in early and told him I would join him - down by the cabins, just upstream from the little rocky jut.
So I rigged up my rod, tied on a mouse, and by this time, he had returned from the cabin. We walked down to the stream together and he asked how to fish the mouse. I told him you could twitch it, to which he responded "like a streamer?" and I said yes, sort of. Or you could just let it dead drift. He wanted to know if rainbows would hit at night; I guessed they would, although the only rainbow type I've ever caught on a mouse was a steelhead on a Lake Erie trib, and I don't typically nightfish waters that have rainbows in them. So we settled down, about 20 yards apart and began casting. Every now and then, we'd hear a splash - those where the "jumpers" he was referring to. After about half a dozen casts, he got his first strike, and I could tell by his voice, that he was excited. A few casts later, he had his first hookup, which also generated excitement. But the fish quickly slipped off. He hooked up a second time, with the same result, and after half a dozen casts more, I heard him exclaim that the darn fish had ripped off his mouse. He came out of the water, and said he was going back up to the cabin to get the other mouse I had given him. Wanted to know how much they cost, and if he could give me a couple of bucks for a few more. I assured him that wasn't necessary, and to save the trip back up and I gave him another mouse from my chest pack. The reward of hearing his excitement in that first half hour was priceless compared to whatever pittance the mice cost. A little bit later, he exclaimed that he had missed another fish, this time on a simple dead drift.
After a bit, we exchanged spots. I moved upstream, he moved downstream. He had the better location to start with 🙂 After switching, I felt the pull of a fish on two consecutive casts, but simply couldn't seal the deal. It was two days shy of full moon, so visibility was great and while vision is usually one of the senses that is downplayed while night fishing, with a near full moon, it complements the tactile and audible triggers the night fisherperson begins to rely on. I heard a few more excited comments from the youngster but he was unable to land any fish. Shortly before midnight, he came over and thanked me again for giving him the mice. He said he never knew there was another dry type fly you could fish, like a mouse, let alone at night. And he would definitely be back. I wished him the best of luck, and I sincerely hope he hooked up with and landed a fish one of the next two nights. I flailed away in the dark for a bit longer, inducing a few more strikes, but threw in the towel a bit before midnight.
Still had it in me to setup the tent this time around, and I awoke feeling refreshed, although three full hours after I wanted to be up and on the stream fishing. That was probably ok though; the air was chilly (upper 40s) and the mountains were obscured by fog. My next night fishing opportunity was several miles away by foot and darkness was still many hours away. I was a bit further upstream from the mouth and water temperature had dropped to 57 degrees overnight. So, I heated up some water for coffee and a hot granola breakfast, labored over putting my pack together, and started out upstream.
To Be Continued...
