10 Great Smoky Years

For our ten-year anniversary, we were fortunate enough to have the time and backup team (thanks Grandparents!) to take a week long trip sans kids.  This was our first trip longer than 1-2 nights since the twins were born 4.5 years ago.   For everything we considered, we landed on Asheville, NC as the perfect location under the following criteria.

-          Neither of us had ever been to Asheville / the Smoky mountains.

-          The craft beer scene is amazing.

-          The wild trout fishing is world renown.

Our first part of the trip was spent in Asheville, NC.  We’d heard great things, but overall the (small/quaint) city way exceeded expectations (that were already somewhat high).  We hit a few restaurants and the food was amazing.  The music was awesome and the beer was as advertised.  Disc golf was totally rad, but the highlight was our Penguins won the Stanley Cup Sunday night.  Back-to-Back baby!  The celebration was so much fun and the shots of Jameson with random strangers were flowing.  The trip started well.

We moved to Franklin, NC for an amazing 5 days and got into some real peace and serenity.  These were the mountains of the true Cherokee Indian tribe, which I have lineage to (and explains a lot).  They were powerful, stoic, and you could really feel the ancient energy of these mountains.  The mountains were deep and on most nights, the fog would roll in to completely consume them in a cloud of mist.  It was so cool to watch and felt so mystical.  And each morning, we’d sit on a rocking chair with a cup of coffee and watch the fog lift back off the range and return to the nothingness that they came from.    We hiked, did some gemstone mining (hit it big with some Rubies and Sapphires!), read, relaxed and ate some good food. 

19 weeks...

and still zipping around!

The trout fishing was our thing though.  It always has been since even before we were married.  Just getting back up to the mountains and disappearing on some small trout stream taking turns casting and working the small pools was so much fun.  It’s been years since we could do this.  I did the research and we explored a decent amount of the under the radar mountain trout waters.  Overall, I found the fishing to be a bit tougher than I expected.  With wild mountain trout, I thought every fish in the stream would be fighting to be the first to eat my Royal PMX or terrestrial pattern, while elk bugled in the background.  But, what I quickly learned was that by mid-June these fish can get highly educated and become pretty selective.  Nonetheless, I was wet wading and in a dry fly state of mind for the week, so opted to net less fish for simplicity.  Spence did her usual thing, which is fish a fraction of the time I do, but still manage to land the biggest fish of the week.  It’s beyond a coincidence at this point….she just always catches the biggest fish on our trips.  I love it. 

She also took her camera and was able to get back into photography, which hasn’t been pursued in the last 5 years either.  We were at the perfect rhythm and it was fun enjoying the time to ourselves.  But, with Spence pregnant with our 19 week baby, it was a constant reminder that much has changed in the past 10 years for us.  And though the vacation was so nice and much needed, by the end of the week we missed all our kiddos and looked forward to getting home to see them.

Jackson River Wild

I got out to fish one of my favorite sections on the Jackson River tailwater.   Its one of my favorites because I know it holds wild browns.  And I know it holds wild browns because we missed a few good ones here during the cicada hatch last year and on some streamers.  The river itself is known for its wild rainbows and even the standard 9-10" wild bow is never a disappointment.  Those little wild bows shoot straight out of the water when they are caught.  I actually don't think they stock the lower tailwater, so every fish is wild.  But, its always the browns that I chase so I target water that holds them.

The water was lower, but it was a cloudy day, so I started with a fatty streamer.  I didn't move a fish this time, so I switched over to some nymphs and started picking a few up.  I caught a good looking brown on a stonefly, so that made my day.  

On my way out, I fished a secondary channel back up to my truck.  There is one hole I've always believed held a good fish.  At the tail out of this hole I hooked into a nice bow and my biggest on the Jackson.  She had the prettiest pink rainbow on her side.  After a good fish like that, it easy to just call it a day.

2016 Cicada Fly Fishing Bonanza

I have honestly waited for this hatch to happen for the past 8 years.    Ever since the buzzing in my ears stopped from the epic 2008 hatch in central PA, I was researching the next southwestern PA emergence.  I was fairly certain this would be the year and I had prepared my family and my work that I may fall off the grid when this happened.  The time was finally here.  

We had a couple early outings with no results.  The cicadas where singing, but the fish just didn't know what they were.  But as they became more active and began flying, it didn't take long.  I remember the first brown trout that crushed my big black foam fly and I looked at my buddy and just smiled.  It had begun.  And from that point forward, it was fly fishing nirvana over the next 2.5 weeks.  It turned out to be everything I expected and binge fishing at its finest.

I can't explain how strange this is for our trout to eat these size of dry fly bugs.  We don't get the epic salmonfly hatches or hopper fishing that the western states get.  On these waters, midges, BWOs and small caddis are the mainstay.  And catching a good brown on anything than a big streamer can be difficult, or just plain lucky.  But, to see the way these fish reacted to this new floating, fluttering filet mignon was awesome.  

Without a doubt, the big browns stole the show.  The rainbows ate the cicadas but many times they would nip at it, nudge it with their nose, and just flat out pussyfoot around.  Many rainbows I missed never really tried to eat it (at least that is what I tell myself).  The browns were completely different, a different species, a predator.  At times when the fly hit the water, it was an instantaneous explosion hellbent on not only eating that cicada, but utterly destroying it.  It was awesome.  And if you weren't ready for this to happen the second the fat bug hit the water, then you were most likely surprised when it happened.  And if you were surprised, that most likely resulted in pulling the fly out of the fishes mouth instead of coolly just coming tight to the fish.  And most likely it was the biggest damn fish of the day.  It always happens this way.  To be clear, I didnt catch a 2 foot brown in these couple weeks.  But I missed and lost a couple that will haunt me for the next 17 years.  

Over this time, we learned a ton and found large trout in new waters that we never fished in the past.  In one section of stream the most productive part was the section I used to wade across to get to the 'prime' water. My perception of where these big fish lay was completely flipped in these few weeks.  This will pay dividends in the future and it could take me another decade to figure out what I did in this short time.   

This year, the summer solstice happened on June 21 and the cicadas seemed to end with the setting of the new moon.  They didn't just disappear that night, but the volume of the cicada song and activity dramatically decreased.  It was an obvious and strange milestone.  

In the end, I am almost glad that this hatch only happens once every 17 years.  Most people have no idea fish even eat cicadas and an even smaller percentage figure out when and where this is happening.  By the time the 'word' actually gets out, its almost about over.   For those that fish, the fishing is almost too easy.  It's a welcome change to for the seasoned angler, but if it was always this easy more people would be flyfishing, and that same seasoned angler would find another hobby that was a more difficult.

In 17 years, I will be 53 and my kids will be 19 and 20. Somehow, this is exciting and depressing at the same time.   I pray we're all still here and the trout waters that I know are still here.  It sounds crazy, but a lot can happen in 17 years.   

Return to Penns Creek

For many years, a camping retreat to Penns was an annual event for the family.  As I got into fly fishing, I would go every year and try to hit the Green Drake hatch.  I went with my girlfriend, who eventually became my wife, along with our first born (our Lab Cooper :)  I got my Dad into fly fishing late in his journey and we took many trips to Penns, even when he was battling through the end stages of cancer.  The periodic cicada hatch of 2008 (Brood XIV) on Penns Creek will go down in history for me as one of the best outdoor events of my life with my wife, Father, and many friends. 

Penns Creek is a special place and I hold it close to my heart.  It’s crazy then its been a couple years since I have been out here, but with a few munchkins all in diapers, it is explainable.  I was glad to make this trip happen again and spend a night out here.  Penns is 3.5 hours from me, so its not really a day trip and anyone that knows me, knows I don’t like to be rushed.  

There were a few noticeable differences with the new trestle and tunnel renovations.  The improvements are nice to see, but I liked it the old way.  I liked the raw, wet, cool dark feel of the old tunnel, the dripping water and knowing there were probably thousands of bats above, watching me.  Of course there was the chance of a rock tumbling from the cavernous ceiling, but I figured if that happened, I probably deserved it for some reason of another.  Every time I walked through the heart of that stone mountain I felt I was leaving all worries behind and renewing my soul.  I didn't quite get the same feeling walking through the new steel tunnel, but I am sure I am in the minority camp on this one.  

The one thing that didn't change was the wild brown trout were still the prettiest fish in the state.  Something special about these trout.  They never disappoint.

Chasing the Grannom hatch ...

Years ago I walked blindly into one of the best hatches I've ever encountered with the Grannom Caddis.  It was so good I drove the 3 hours the next day again with my wife so she could see it first hand.

Since that year, I've been chasing this hatch and trying to recreate the insanity that happens on a few mid-April mornings.  The challenge is that the hatch is really short-lived and a 3-5 day cycle.  Being 3 hours away + work + Easter + weather + blah + blah = a bunch of recent swing and misses on hitting this hatch.  But not this year,...I was convinced the timing was PERFECT.

I met my good friend for a two day mini-trip to a central PA limestone stream.  We fished the mornings and camped and drank beer in the evening.  A pretty good plan for sure.  I'll skip to the punchline...we never hit the Grannoms.  I saw a few emerge and I thought it was going to be on like Donkey Kong, but it just never happened.  It was a cloudy day and what did happen (once I abandoned nymphing the high water) was one of my best streamer days.  The wild browns were absolutely pounding the streamer and it was so much fun.  

The next day was a blue bird day and after I acknowledged this bug was a no show again, I switched back to my same exact streamer set up.  Conventional wisdom says streamer fishing isn't nearly as hot on a sunny day and conventional wisdom was right again.  I didn't even get one chase.  I reluctantly went back to dredging the bottom with some HEAVY nymphs and managed a couple to salvage my pride.