I'm Back!

On September 17, I was flying high…heading to central PA for a delicious gumbo of mountain bike festival topped with fly fishing. On the way, I fished the Susquehanna north of Harrisburg and landed a 16-17” smallmouth who approved of my big-claw crayfish pattern. I had a list of wild trout streams, plus the Juniata River for the trip home.

This bliss was to be short lived. Saturday morning, we rode out of camp and climbed to the hang glider launch point in Weiser State Forest. As we descended grassy-double-track to the technical stuff, I decided to use the speed to catch air off a good sized rock. Alas, the rock slid out and my bike took a strange trajectory, coming down on the front wheel and somehow peeling the tire off the rim, which catapulted me over the handle bars and straight down onto my right shoulder. And, unfortunately, it was not the 3-weight fly rod on my back that I heard snap. The Rattling Creek brook trout would have to wait until next year.

Good friends helped me hike the 1.5 miles out of the woods and slinged me up nicely with bandanas (thanks Jen and Caryn) and inner tubes (thanks Jody). So I relaxed back at camp and indulged in the Rattling Creek Single Trackers’ supply of Troegs beer. On Monday, I got an x-ray and by Wednesday I was having a titanium plate and eight screws installed on the collarbone. Well, at least I’d nailed down the Susquie River as #72, keeping me on track to break triple digits by the end of the year. (A bit of irony: The smallmouth depicted also christened my new Lefty Kreh rod. Little did I know that I would soon be a "lefty" as well.)

Ten days into recovery, I took a rod down to the Ohio River to see if a) I could cast left handed and b) whether I could do it without pain, which worked out reasonably well. On this sunny afternoon, with the river low and slow, there wasn’t any action, but Ian Brown showed me how to tie the Clouser Suspender fly that day and it felt good just to be outside.

A few days later, Ian and I took a canoe out on the Ohio River in search of stripers. Despite a plentitude of shad…I’m talking a school hundreds of yards long…we saw no feeding activity and had nary a bite. But this was a time when I could care less…it was great just to be out fishing.

This past weekend, my fishless period ended at 22 days. Saturday morning, Mark Susany and I caught bass from his canoe on Star Lake (no Dahlberg points on private water, but no matter). Fishing lefty, I did miss a number of hits on Rob Walters' dynamite shad pattern, which doubles nicely as a bluegill, but managed to land a few largemouths as well.

On Sunday, my dear wife Robyn and I got our brookie on. After a stirring sermon at Hebron Presbyterian Church, we bee-lined for Linn Run State Park. This was to be Robyn’s first brookie experience and I felt nice and relaxed in my lame state. We hiked up Grove Run and found some nice fish that were amazingly wary. But I did eventually land a couple of darling little brookies and Robyn got some action as well. It was great fun watching their blazing fast strikes and and subsequent spits.

We then headed over to Linn Run, where Dale and Cyndi had reported a good brook trout population. I’d also heard tell of a lingering acid problems, but I’m happy to report Linn Run is the best brookie stream I’ve ever seen…both in numbers and size. The beauty shown above took a caddis dry, but they were also happy to take various bead head nymphs. By this time, I was starting to cast righty a bit and feeling great. But that also put me into a fishing frenzy and I instantly lost my touch as fishing guide. Robyn, you're on your own!

The day finished up at the Three Forks property of Steve Robinson, who was hosting an event for fellow Venture Outdoors donors. Along with Rob Walters, we caught wild browns in Mill Creek below the confluence of several wild trout streams. After catching two wild browns, Robyn picked up a book and relaxed while Rob added a bunch of brookies to the mix.

On the way out, I logged a public section of Mill Creek by catching a a couple of lovely browns. That raised my total waterways for the year to 75 and, more importantly, boosted the spirit by knowing that just 2 ½ weeks post-op I was enjoying fly fishing (and catching) once again.