How I Approach a New Trout Steam
I recently moved to central Pennsylvania from Rhode Island which has drastically changed my fishing agenda. I no longer have access to the striped bass, bluefish, tautog and false albacore fishing I had become so accustomed to. However, as it turns out, I have somehow found myself in one of the premier fly fishing locations on the east coast. Central Pennsylvania is home to dozens of Class A wild trout streams, but four streams in particular draw the lascivious eye of anglers from across the eastern seaboard: Penn’s Creek, Fishing Creek, Little Juniata River, and Spring Creek. These limestone fed waterways stay cold nearly throughout the entire year and support healthy wild brown trout populations. As I now find myself less than an hour away from stellar flyfishing opportunities, I have to shift my focus from saltwater to flyfishing. I have most of the requisite gear, some baseline experience, and I would consider myself a competent fly fisherman, but by no stretch am I an expert. That begs the question: How should I approach fishing a new trout stream?
My first step is always to do some preliminary research. While there is a plethora of content available online, I find that instructional books often contain way more useful and detailed information. Plus, you know, it’s a book - it just feels cool. I snagged a copy of Keystone Fly Fishing, a bible of sorts for anyone who is interesting in fishing Pennsylvania waters. Written by a variety of accomplished fly fishermen from around the state, the book contains more information than you could need for an entire lifetime. I read about my local streams and documented public access points, hatch schedules, suggested patterns, and seasonal trends. Once the weather warmed up a bit, I drove out to Spring Creek to explore what it had to offer.
Steam rising off Spring Creek in the early morning.
I arrived at Spring Creek before sunrise, and the temperature was a brisk 20 degrees, which is balmy when you’re ice fishing but hell on earth when you’re flyfishing. Since it is still wintertime, I was tying on size 16-22 flies and nymphing my way down the stream. When I am fishing a new waterway, I like to gather as much information as I can on the first few visits, so I tend not to spend too much time in one particular spot. While I found a few nice pools and eddies right near the access, I never fished one spot for more than 5 minutes before moving on. I made sure to take mental notes on stream flow, riparian growth, and water clarity, and constantly scanned the water for any signs of fish or insects. I found a few trout held up in a deep pool a ways down the stream, but I could not entice them to strike after throwing the kitchen sink in front of their lazy salmonid faces. I had one take a while later in a different pool, but nothing concrete to show for it. Unfortunately for me, my outing was cut short after only a few hours when I snapped my frail hand-me-down flyrod while I was setting the hook on a fish (it wasn’t a rock, okay? It was a fish). Anyway, as I was saying - alright fine, it was a rock. Happy? With no working rod and a few miles of hiking to do on the way back, I continued my investigation.
The larvae I was finding corresponded to around a 18-20 hook size.
While checking for aquatic insects is useful anytime you fly fish, it’s particularly helpful when you don’t have any previous data to base your selections on. I flipped a few rocks and took pictures of the critters underneath, which confirmed my fly size selection and gave me a great idea of what these larvae the trout were eating actually looked like for future replication. If you want to get really crazy, find an entomologist who can ID these for you to get the best picture of what the trout are actually feeding on - luckily for me, I live with one. I also spent a good deal of time just watching the water, looking for splashes, gurgles, tail flips and the like. Even though it’s only February, I saw at least one trout gulp down a fly from the surface, a display that made every fiber of my being tingle until I looked over at the two sticks formally known as my flyrod sitting next to me. I chatted with a local who said that these streams could be seeing blue-winged olive and midge hatches very soon. While I wasn’t able to catch my first Pennsylvania wild trout, I did gather a great idea of how I can best prepare to fish this stream the next time I head out. I plan to replicate this general process acrossing the remaining three streams to get fully up to speed and hopefully hit the ground running as spring begins to wake everything back up. Stand by.
- Declan
