Thursday, May 18, 2006

Brandywine Creek

Pennsylvania is a beautiful place to spend an evening with good company and a fine stretch of water.

Joe and I were ready for a little R&R after interviewing several prospective cadidates for a position I have open and a 1.5 hr conference call with the EHS&T squad.

We tried Marsh Creek with no luck. I saw a small Muskie (there are reported to be 40 inch Tigers in the reservoir) and two bass but couldn't get them to take what I was offering.

We proceeded on to Brandywine creek and fished from the bank for trout. PA has an active stocking program and we observed a flyfisherman catching what seemed like an endless string of fish from one hole he had located.

He was nymphing with a "Green Weenie" and he told us later that if you couldn't catch them on that they couldn't be caught.

Joe was trying a variety of spinners and plugs and I went straight to the confidence bait - the white roostertail.

The Brandywine is a typical PA creek. Skinny water - clear and beautiful.

Here's Joe preparing to cast.

I picked up a pretty rainbow and missed several but had a great time doing it!

Nice fish!

I do have a fish story:

I caught a beautiful Brookie and was in the process of trying to take a picture when he began to squirm and wiggle. I was standing over the water and gently let him slide out of my hand into the creek but I forgot one important fact. I was using a double streamer rig on the UL - a small conehead bunny leach in front and a baby bugger trailing behind. The Brookie had taken the lead fly and as he slipped from my grasp, the trailing line and remaining fly followed across my outstretched palm. When the baby bugger reached my hand it was traveling at the same speed as the fish that was free-falling to the creek and it lodged itself in the skin of my left hand.

The sudden stopping of the line caused a shock and my line parted at the knot I had tied to the lead fly. My reaction to the hook imbedding itself in my hand was immediate and abrupt which dislodged the hook from my hand.

In a matter of a second or two, I realized that the fish was in the water with a fly in his lip and another trailing behind and the whole rig was free of my control. I watched as the beauty gave a flick of his tail and returned to deeper water leaving me down two flies and with no picture. Ahhhh the agony of defeat.

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