Tailing Loops

From what I could see, the stream itself didnt look overcrowded, like, say, the Walnut project water in Erie, but I knew that all of the best spots would have at least two guys fishing them.  Not my style.

So I continued up to the back road that I normally have to myself to park and fish Mill Creek.  As I rolled around the last bend of the unpaved road, my heart sank: no fewer than 8 cars, trucks, and SUVs were positioned anywhere they could get off the road, and people were milling about like it was a flea market.  Adding to the flea market image were the two ridiculously large tents and a lean-to made from a tarp, all set up on the gravel bank on the other side of the stream.  From the looks of it, these people had been here all weekend, and didnt look likely to pack up and leave.  While it was possible (likely even), that the entire group was right there, and the restof the area was deserted, the best spots in that area are a good hike and wade away, and I'd have been disappointed to find them occupied.  So, I decided to scout out new water, and check out a few access points I'd found over the winter to see if any of those might provide the solitude I was looking for.

The first place I stopped by looked promising, so I parked the car and strung up my 3 wt.  There were two guys fishing a hole near the access so I walked down the trail past them and maneuvered into position at a hole down a few bends from them.  I was using a white latex caddis that I'd had on from the last time I went fishing, but after a few minutes at the hole, I decided that something a bit bigger and flashier might be in order.  

So, I clipped off the #14 latex caddis and tied on a bigger, flashier, heavier fly...a nymph/streamer/bugger abomination I dreamed up months ago at the vise.  Based loosely on a woven bitch creek nymph, this fly sports fluorescent green in the underbody, a flashback, cone head, and flash & glow in the dark mateial for a short tail.  After i completed it, I showed it to a friend along with several regular bitch creeks I'd tied for a swap.  When he asked what it was, I replied, "Idunno...a psychotic bitch?"...a few jokes and wisecracks later, and the fly became affectionately known as "The Angela", after a girl I used to date.

So I tied on this #8 Angela nymph with some shot and some indicator putty and went back to work on the pool.  Nothing...nothing...nothing...snag.  As I went to lift out of the snag, the "snag" pulled hard and shot to the other side of the creek!  The fish was hugging bottom and running for all it was worth.  As it was at the bottom of over 3 feet of water, I wasnt sure how big or even what species it was, but on the 3 wt, it felt like a shark.  Slowly but surely the fish tired, and when it decided to turn, it went all out, shooting to the surface and crossing a good 4 or 5 feet of stream while airborne!  At this point I knew I had a lean, but healthy brown on the line, apparently well hooked too.  A few moments later I felt the half-hearted head shake of a tired trout and knew he was ready for the net.  I coaxed him across the pool and into my new Measure Net (a Christmas gift that has seen precious few trout since December 25th), and saw that he was just a mite over 12", with a color to him that indicated he'd been eating well since escaping from the stock truck.   I was going to take a picture, but he seemed pretty exhausted, so I just got him back in the water as fast as I could after getting that Angela out of the corner of his mouth.

Not long after that, the two gentlemen from up above caught up to me, moving on down the stream, past the next good hole and down around the bend.  When I got down to the next hole, I managed to get my fly hung up in some branches and, not willing to disturb the water, I broke off and tied a new fly on, this time a standard woven bitch creek nymph.  I'd heard from a friend/mentor of mine that Mill Creek was home to a population of truly enormous stoneflies (in the #6 or larger neighborhood), and from the way that brown had attacked my angela nymph, I figured a #8 stonefly imitation would be a safe bet.  

Well, I fished that hole for a while with no results, and from the way the guys below me were acting, I didnt think they really wanted to have to leap frog all afternoon, so I turned around and headed back upstream, past the car and into more uncharted water.  I worked my way upstream, fishing a few holes unsuccessfully, but really, more interested in exploration.  

Finally I came upon a hole that just looked "fishy".  Its one of those things that need not be explained to a fisherman and can not be explained to a non-fisherman.  There was just something about that hole that had me convinced there was a trout in there somewhere.  Its the type of certainty that will take a nicely moving fisherman and stop him in his tracks in that spot, trying different drifts, casts, flies, sizes, angles...until it's too dark to fish.  If he's got a flashlight, he may never leave.  I'd even guess that a large percentage of fisherman even believe that this profound belief that they'll catch a fish in that hole might actually help in the process of inducing that fish to bite.  Its all part of the totally nonsensical but equally serious set of superstitions that all fishermen carry with them, but few share with others.

In any event, I tried long cast, short casts, angled casts, two different positions, different weights...all without a bite.  Finally, I settled into a kind of routine, casting into a current that swept my fly down under the tangled roots of a tree.  Finally, i cast out and immediately saw a yellow-silver flash.  A twitch of the rod and my second brown was on the line.  This one was smaller, but just as pretty, and came to hand with plenty of energy to let me feel justified taking a snapshot before sending her back to her hiding spot.

After releasing this fish, I continued exploring upstream, walking more than fishing, until I hit a row of yellow posters, ending my upstream exploration.  After this, I headed back to the car, noting that the other guys had left.  So I headed back down, recovered my angela nymph from its branch and checked out about a quarter mile of the creek below where I'd parked.  Eventually, I went as far as I cared to, and layed my rod against a tree.  Then I sat on a log and opened up the bottle of Newcastle I'd packed in while I listened to the stream and watched a few squirrels, ducks, and other birds going about their business.  Some time later, I got up, got my rod and headed back toward the car.

Along the way, I glanced down and saw an interesting sight.  Too long to be a big or a crawfish and too thin to be a sculpin, I saw a little gray worm-like creature wriggling around in the stony streambed.  Once it settled a bit, I saw what it was and grinned, scooping it up for a brief photo shoot.

All in all, a pretty good day on the water!

Hook: Mustad C53S (80050) or equivalent

Tail: Pearl Krystal flash and pink glow-in-the-dark flashabou

Body: Micro ultra chenille, woven, black on top, flo. green on underside

Thorax: Black micro ultra chenille

Hackle: Black, palmered over thorax

Case: Flash back, scud back, krystal flash...anything flashy

Head: Black Conehead

Picture to be attached later.