Trout Gone Wild

With a major yard project newly completed, visions of trout were swirling in the gardener's head. Ray had enlisted me Sunday afternoon to help collect firewood for next winter from Forbes State Forest, which meant I had a damn good reason to be in the Laurel Highlands Sunday afternoon. And as the winner of the VO March Madness office pool, I had a bonus vacation day in my pocket.

Piney Fork
I was finally to meet Tim Schumman, whose broad shoulders carry the Peter's Creek Watershed Association. Tim was co-leading with Albert Kolar the Venture Outdoors Geology Hike on Peter's Creek Sunday morning. I was hoping to leave my Northside home early enough to catch a trout or two on the Peter's trib, Piney Fork, near South Park. This was the stream Raz had shown me over the winter...a fly fisher's oasis close to home.

By 8am I was on the road and on the creek by 8:45. However, I was soon informed that I had crossed private property to park and had to move. Dave and Ned of the Montour Trail Council were hard at work installing a new bridge and I was given tips on alternative parking.

I started with a tandem midge combo and fished Triphammer Bridge without success. I changed spots and still had no luck. But when I hooked a glob of algae and "swam" it across the surface, I thought I saw the flash of a nice sized trout. Off came the midges and on went the go-to conehead black bugger. Boom, I felt the weight of a solid fish, which turned out to be a 13" rainbow. Okay, just enough time to change and make it on time for the 9:30 hike nearby.

Gary Run
After four hours of walking, talking, identifying spring ephemeral wildflowers and learning the intricacies of shale and sandstone, I was on the road for Ray's camp on Laurel Hill. On the hike, I'd met Len, who had caught 9 trout the day before on Cool Spring Creek in Mercer...that provided fodder for future trip planning.

Ray and I combed nearby forest roads for downed logs, honing our abilities to distinguish sound and accessible hardwood from rotted or too-distant logs. We laid in a good supply for our respective fireplaces and cooled off the grit and sawdust with some Belgian beers. Ray was fished out, having fully indulged in trouty pursuits in Harrisburg for the previous five days. I, however, had some daylight left and most of Monday to explore.

I drove into the forest parked near the mouth of Gary Run, which appeared to be a pretty little brookie stream. Casting a large black caddis dry with #16 prince dropper, I tried a few small holes before finding a substantial spot created by fallen logs. Surrounded by saplings, I crept upstream and settled onto one knee to cast. Starting with the middle/tail of the pool, I waited until the 3rd cast to drift thru the head/deepest section, where my caddis was yanked under by a chunky, 6" brookie. It would be the first of many fish to be caught from knees this trip. I fished another 30 minutes, exploring upstream into the deepening gloom before turning around and hiking out. There was a late night bird singing, but fortunately no sign of larger fauna.

Powdermill Run
On Monday, I was on the road by 8am in search of brookie stream, Camp Run. However, after 45 minutes of driving forest roads, I had not found access to the desired section. More research was in order, so I headed for Powdermill Run.

Rob and I had recently taught an animal tracking class at Powdermill Nature Reserve and had gotten the go-ahead to fish the Run. I hiked in a short distance and walked down to a spot with killer green depth. I assessed the direction of sun and shadow and approached from downstream. A shallow run produced a creek chub, before I reached an apparent confluence. After a few probing casts around the edge of the pool, a brookie took the Prince. A couple more casts and I finally got the tandem right next to the trunk of an overhanging tree, where a 9" rainbow grabbed the caddis dry. My stubbed "3" weight made short work of the lovely wild rainbow, which I photo documented for posterity. Powdermill was designated class A water for its population of rainbows and I was pretty happy to see one firsthand.

I worked upstream, picking up several more brookies on the Prince before reaching a gorgeous pool below a dam in front of a house. Hmm, it appeared I was no longer on the nature reserve. Well, might as well make a couple of casts. Despite sharp ledges, major aeration and current below an overhanging tree, I got nothing. Maybe too deep for my dry/dropper? On went the black conehead. On the first cast, a heavy fish took it, leaping clear of the water several times as the stout little 6'6" rod leaned into it. The 14" rainbow finally succumbed and I could feel how thick it had grown from dominating the largest hole on the stream.

This was already a great morning of exploratory fishing. Let's see what else I could find!

Laughlinton Run
I drove through the expansive Rolling Rock Club grounds, gazing longingly first at the Loyalhanna, then Rolling Rock Creek, then Laughlinton Run. The PFBC web site had said 23% of the latter was open, but apparently that must be farther upstream, as everything up to Rt. 30 was thoroughly posted.

Eventually, I found a place to park with no signs. Afraid of being rousted, I grabbed rod and bag and headed into the trees. By this time, the sun was high and the day was fine. My fleece had come off and I was comfortable in a light shirt. I could hear water flowing in the distance, which meant gradient and quantity...yippee!

Off came the bugger and on went the caddis dry - Prince dropper tandem. First pool produced two small rainbows about 6". Second pool was a big one and produced another couple of rainbows up to 8" or so, and a brookie. I worked upstream and picked up another couple small rainbows...this stream was loaded and the fish were cooperating!

Furnace Run
Well, I had enough time to explore one more stream. I'd been planning to hit the Loyalhanna, but hmm, wasn't Furnace Run another class A nearby? I checked my notes from the PFBC web site and, sure enough, it was a Laughlinton tributary somewhere upstream.

I studies the PA Gazetteer and drove around for a while until I spotted an area didn't seem to have POSTED signs. I pulled in a private roadway and parked to the side with no signs. Before I even got out, the caretaker was pulling up in a truck.

"Uh, is there a property line nearby?", I vaguely inquired. "Yep, Powdermill owns the land that way, but the owner doesn't want anyone in here," came the reply. When I asked if there was somewhere else I could park, he said there was no one around and he'd let me stay there. He did add that all the security systems were on and that the alarm would go off if I went anywhere near the house. He also shared that the Conservancy (WPC) had bought 80 acres over the hill as well.

I asked if it was Furnace Run we were talking about, but he didn't know the name, just that the creek was over the hill. Good enough for me.

I hiked down through recent growth hardwoods and down into a hemlock lined valley. The stream was pretty enough alright and with plenty of water to hold fish. The first pool I fished produced a brookie and I hiked upstream about a half mile, missing a little one or two. There was an old dam of some sort pouring water from one trib, and the other trib likewise was dammed. In between, there was an orange seep coming from a stone structure.

Even after walking/fishing down to the confluence with Laughlinton Run, I caught only one more fish, another lovely brookie with scarlet belly, green sides speckled with red dots. This stream was supposed to have rainbows as well. But either the density was low or they had turned in for an afternoon siesta.

At this point, I had to hustle back to town for an afternoon meeting. As I drove Rt. 30 through Ligonier and Latrobe, I reflected on my good fortune to fish five streams, four of which had wild fish, in lovely, sunny conditions. I think that puts me up to 19 streams for the year and it's not yet mid-April. That's my kinda productivity!