Going Where the Water Doesn’t Freeze

December 16, 2010

The end of year push is on; not for holiday gifts, nor home decoration. I’m talking about the Dahlberg Cup. Thanks to some creative justification of the need to fly fish, a group of us have chosen to keep a yearly tally of where and when we catch fish on flies. In our second year of this contest, it can be reported that one can be pushed to the edge of obsession in the pursuit of new streams. I can’t speak for the others, but the Dahlberg Cup has triggered me on so many levels. This contest stimulates at once my yearning for knowledge, my lust for new experiences and my fascination with aquatic environments, not to mention my need for achievement.

For example, I learn tons about fish, habitats, and seasonal feeding patterns. I’ve learned that special regulations streams are great to hit in early spring before trout season officially opens. Then the stocked streams come into play with lots of options thru spring and early summer. Brook trout streams can be targeted any time of year and provide a striking contrast to fishing big waters when combined on a single trip. In 2009, I learned that you can not count on catching smallmouth bass in November, even in places teeming with them. This year, I corrected for that by targeting the shallower smallmouth waters all summer long, which also helped establish some new fishing friendships along the way.

Well, the lesson this very cold December of 2010 is that even coldwater species, such as steelhead, become difficult to access when streams freeze over. As I considered my goal of logging fish from 100 waterways this year, I pondered where I might find another 8 streams. I’d been counting on Erie for a handful, but a three-week cold streak had framed that as an exercise of more pain than pleasure. I could hardly fathom bashing open frozen streams to fly fish.

I had set aside a couple days of vacation to fish with Ray Schon and to get Mark Susany out for his virgin steelhead trip, but the conditions were not favorable. On Tuesday night, December 14, mentor Dale Kotowski called up out of the blue. He also was hankering to get out. Surprisingly, neither of us had fished Centre County this year, the land of milk, honey and spring-fed limestone streams. With nightly temperatures dipping below the teens and high temperatures failing to hit 20, the thought of fishing 50-degree water for active trout was appealing. So, the plan was made to leave early Thursday and make the drive to Bellefonte, PA home of Spring Creek.

Rob Walters, another key mentor in my fly fishing life, decided to join the excursion and it was a good thing because Dale had become stricken with a health issue and, I’m guessing, lovely Cyndi had coaxed him into the unfamiliar territory of caution. That meant no fishing for Dale this week, which I think we can all agree is a tragic circumstance.

So, Rob and I were on the road shortly after 7:00 AM beelining for Bellefonte, a 2 ½ hour trip. Upon arrival, we parked next to a local business and suited up. Two different guys stopped over to ask us what the hell we were doing. Not in a mean way, but more out of concern for our well being and soundness of mind. The wind had been howling for several days and, though not much snow had fallen, the mercury had taken a dive. The one fellow who had fly fished for many years mentioned sucker spawn could be extremely effective, just in time for me to select one of my microspawn patterns for the dropper rig.

It’s Alive!
We donned neoprene waders and gloves, substantial hats and the warmest socks money can buy. Not only was the creek in great condition, but within minutes, I’d landed a couple of small browns, which were taking white spawn tied with red thread and they were also hitting green caddis pupa. Rob came downstream just in time to first see me miss a very big fish and soon thereafter hook another heavyweight, which caught a second and a third wind and was wearing me out. After a 5-10 minute battle, the 19-inch rainbow was flopping in my net and getting its turn on camera. Life was good on Spring Creek! More beautifully colored browns followed and Rob landed a couple of nice 15-16 inchers, reported a monster sighting of a brown going two feet or better.

Buffalo Soldier
In the meantime, I’d waded up the class A tributary, Buffalo Run, crossed a road and navigated a giant log pile to locate a nice pod of fish. Several browns and one rainbow took the sucker spawn. Interestingly, this little stream looks like any of Pittsburgh’s shit cricks, with plastic bags, broken bits of pipe, bricks and other debris strewn around, with the occasional bank of poured concrete marking an industrial plant. But the difference is this stream holds wild trout in every spot more than 2-feet deep. The water quality and forage base were apparently quite healthy with a welcome lack of sewage input.

After a leisurely lunch with Tom Doman at the Governors Pub, we stopped at Logan Branch nearby so I could hopefully log that stream as well. After wading and drifting downstream a quarter mile, I hadn’t gotten a bite but spooked two fish. Apparently this was too small a stream to fish in such an indelicate manner…to be revisited in the future.

Bald Eagle
So we moved on to see some more of Spring Creek and to fish Bald Eagle Creek. The McCoy Dam impoundment was removed three years ago (not long after my bachelor party float trip, which included an epic portage) and the stream has been reshaped into a new mile of wonderful trout habitat. Father down, at the confluence with Bald Eagle Creek, the value of feeder springs was highly apparent. Bald Eagle was mostly frozen over, whereas Spring was wide open. The right descending bank of Bald Eagle below the confluence remained free of ice as well. We fished downstream of Milesburg and Rob nailed three rainbows quickly San Juans. I had to lengthen my rig to reach the bottom in deeper faster water, after which a brown took a prince nymph and I lost a nice rainbow that jumped several times. By then, the winter darkness was closing in.

So we three had a beer and talked of shale and fish and other things before hitting the road for the Burgh. It was a good day and a wonderful respite in the dead of winter. And this trip got me to #95, within striking distance of the 100 Grail. Cheers to Dale for inspiring the trip, Rob for making it happen, and Tom for coaching us on where to fish. It’s good to have friends!