jayL
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2007
- Messages
- 9,946
I've had this trip planned for a year and the time finally came.
I drove up with ian_brown and met a few of my friends at our decent little place in Pulaski. The water was around 750 cfs at the dam, but probably significantly higher after picking up some tribs and the daily drenching rains.
Day 1 on the water was decent. My friend landed a good steelie early on, followed by some absolutely massive kings. They were around 40 inches and took him almost a half hour to land. I went 0 for 6, all being kings except for the one slightly smaller fish that left me with an ominous streak of bronze as he threw the hook in some heavy water. Irritated at my frustrating day, as well as the potential catastrophic loss of my coveted lake run brown I went to the fly shop for a hook file.
Day 2:
I got to the river and buttoned up to a king pretty early on. I landed this one and put it on a rope stringer. I keep one per year to give meat to family and coworkers. Later on in the day, we realized that one of our fish was missing. It was mine. We assumed someone stole it because there was no way it pulled the rope from under the rock we had on it. This is not the last we'll hear from that fish. A close friend and wayne32pa arrived to complete the crew of "Pennsyltucky meat hunters" as the locals call us PA residents.
Most of my friends hooked up and landed a fish this day. Most were kings, as well as a coho, I think.
Interesting note: I have often been a major fan of the cabela's ultralight wading boots with studs, as are many other PAFFers. Well, I still think they are a good deal, but let me give you fair warning...
When they fail, they do so SPECTACULARLY. As I waded through some ice slick mud down near the estuary, I lost the sole of the left boot. Since there was a hard plastic layer, I figured I'd at least be able to at least fish a few more hours from the bank, then hike out. The boot essentially exploded on the way back to where my friends were, leaving me with nothing but a neoprene booty 2 miles (and a river crossing) away from the car. Thankfully, my friend drove his truck to a private access point with the owners' permission and picked me up after only a 15 minute walk. If you own these boots and have had them for a few seasons, BE CAREFUL if you are going to hike way down a muddy trail and across one of the most dangerous rivers in the east.
Day 3:
Everyone in the group hooked up, including many members of the group with multiples. My new chotas were also very nice, but I have concerns about the durability. We'll see.
Early on, I spotted a decent king swimming around with a rope in his mouth. Ethics aside, I aimed to snag the rope to get my fish back. The fish took off before I got a chance.
About 2 hours later, I hooked up again. As he came to the net, I saw a few feet of rope trailing. This fish escaped with rope in his mouth, survived the night, swallowed my fly a second time (same pattern) and put up yet another 10 minute battle. Having regained my fish, things were going well.
I briefly chatted with Bruno streamside, and planned to head upstream to fish some water he had found. A small run headed in just as he left, and I was unable to pull myself away from it. Sorry man. We'll fish more next time. I spotted what I thought was a decent king in the pool, but lost sight rather quickly. I took a cast to the pool and felt a hit. I set the hook and presumably belly hooked the largest steelhead I have ever seen in person. It instantly did a backflip in the air and tore down the riffle below me. I have never heard a reel scream so loud. The handle of the reel actually hit me in the thumb and caused swelling. It was nuts.
I took a break after that and tied on a black stonefly with a blue thorax. If steel was present, I wanted to use a more "natural" pattern. It proved a good move because I hooked up instantly. My friend said the fish was a king, and I took off downstream to follow the running fish. After a few minutes, it surfaced to show me its bright silver side and light pink stripe.
holy crap.
This fish was every bit as large as the monster I foul hooked earlier, except this one was on the surface and approaching the net. I was super pumped about life, when it started to do some kind off alligator death roll. My 6lb tippet popped as my friend lowered the net and I screamed something that I can't remember.
I pretty much sulked for the rest of the trip.
I am in the process of booking a late fall/winter trip for steelhead as we speak. I can't get the image of that fish rolling on my line out of my head.
No browns, no steel. Just some huge salmon. It was a great time with some great friends. I'm a bit bummed out about how it went, but it just works that way sometimes.
Pics to come when my friend gets around to sending them to me.
I drove up with ian_brown and met a few of my friends at our decent little place in Pulaski. The water was around 750 cfs at the dam, but probably significantly higher after picking up some tribs and the daily drenching rains.
Day 1 on the water was decent. My friend landed a good steelie early on, followed by some absolutely massive kings. They were around 40 inches and took him almost a half hour to land. I went 0 for 6, all being kings except for the one slightly smaller fish that left me with an ominous streak of bronze as he threw the hook in some heavy water. Irritated at my frustrating day, as well as the potential catastrophic loss of my coveted lake run brown I went to the fly shop for a hook file.
Day 2:
I got to the river and buttoned up to a king pretty early on. I landed this one and put it on a rope stringer. I keep one per year to give meat to family and coworkers. Later on in the day, we realized that one of our fish was missing. It was mine. We assumed someone stole it because there was no way it pulled the rope from under the rock we had on it. This is not the last we'll hear from that fish. A close friend and wayne32pa arrived to complete the crew of "Pennsyltucky meat hunters" as the locals call us PA residents.
Most of my friends hooked up and landed a fish this day. Most were kings, as well as a coho, I think.
Interesting note: I have often been a major fan of the cabela's ultralight wading boots with studs, as are many other PAFFers. Well, I still think they are a good deal, but let me give you fair warning...
When they fail, they do so SPECTACULARLY. As I waded through some ice slick mud down near the estuary, I lost the sole of the left boot. Since there was a hard plastic layer, I figured I'd at least be able to at least fish a few more hours from the bank, then hike out. The boot essentially exploded on the way back to where my friends were, leaving me with nothing but a neoprene booty 2 miles (and a river crossing) away from the car. Thankfully, my friend drove his truck to a private access point with the owners' permission and picked me up after only a 15 minute walk. If you own these boots and have had them for a few seasons, BE CAREFUL if you are going to hike way down a muddy trail and across one of the most dangerous rivers in the east.
Day 3:
Everyone in the group hooked up, including many members of the group with multiples. My new chotas were also very nice, but I have concerns about the durability. We'll see.
Early on, I spotted a decent king swimming around with a rope in his mouth. Ethics aside, I aimed to snag the rope to get my fish back. The fish took off before I got a chance.
About 2 hours later, I hooked up again. As he came to the net, I saw a few feet of rope trailing. This fish escaped with rope in his mouth, survived the night, swallowed my fly a second time (same pattern) and put up yet another 10 minute battle. Having regained my fish, things were going well.
I briefly chatted with Bruno streamside, and planned to head upstream to fish some water he had found. A small run headed in just as he left, and I was unable to pull myself away from it. Sorry man. We'll fish more next time. I spotted what I thought was a decent king in the pool, but lost sight rather quickly. I took a cast to the pool and felt a hit. I set the hook and presumably belly hooked the largest steelhead I have ever seen in person. It instantly did a backflip in the air and tore down the riffle below me. I have never heard a reel scream so loud. The handle of the reel actually hit me in the thumb and caused swelling. It was nuts.
I took a break after that and tied on a black stonefly with a blue thorax. If steel was present, I wanted to use a more "natural" pattern. It proved a good move because I hooked up instantly. My friend said the fish was a king, and I took off downstream to follow the running fish. After a few minutes, it surfaced to show me its bright silver side and light pink stripe.
holy crap.
This fish was every bit as large as the monster I foul hooked earlier, except this one was on the surface and approaching the net. I was super pumped about life, when it started to do some kind off alligator death roll. My 6lb tippet popped as my friend lowered the net and I screamed something that I can't remember.
I pretty much sulked for the rest of the trip.
I am in the process of booking a late fall/winter trip for steelhead as we speak. I can't get the image of that fish rolling on my line out of my head.
No browns, no steel. Just some huge salmon. It was a great time with some great friends. I'm a bit bummed out about how it went, but it just works that way sometimes.
Pics to come when my friend gets around to sending them to me.
