A cold day in.........

Yesterday mornings forecast was for sunny skies and light winds with a possible high temp around 35. Looking at the next few days Wednesday was the warmest day of the lot. So I set off to find a few trout willing to play catch and release. The day was truly spectacular, a snowfall the day before left the woods like a wonderland. As I was gearing up and deciding what fly to try first, my eye caught some movement. As I turned to the direction of the movement I saw a hawk burst from the snow. He had something in his talons but I could not recognize what it was.

To the stream. I fished only a few flies, knowing the water was cold most of the activity was going to come from the bottom or very close to the bottom. I must have fished for several hours and all I had to show for it was a solid strike on a small streamer, and endless build up of ice in the guides. The day was still bright but not warmer. I knew this was going to be a day for walking and enjoying that which is around the stream.

I watched a flock of tom turkeys feeding on some winter berries. These guys were very good at picking the berries, some even jumped to reach the ones at the of the bush.

In this slow moving pool near the bank is where I took the strike on the streamer.

About two in the afternoon I noticed a few of these guys on the snow and rocks along the stream. I don't have any real good stonefly imitations so I tied on a Adams parachute, the thought was that if I matched the size and the color was close it would work.

In this pool I noticed some rises. These were along the far side and were not an easy cast. After several attempts the Adams was sucked under. A brief twist and shake by the trout and it was gone. Trout 2, Alan 0. That's OK and I considered this a wonderful cold day along a small stream.

"Spam"

No this is not a post about that nasty pain in the butt stuff we have to deal with from time to time, instead it's about a mixture of things related to fly fishing.

The starting point will be this fly box. It's the only one I carry while small stream fishing. As you can see it's in a very unorganized state. It contains flies that cover the show, wets, dries, nymphs, and streamers. Its said that if you change flies while fishing just put the one you are removing in the right slot and your flies will always be in order. I may just try that concept one of these days.

A thermos bottle. These are great for that one or two cups of coffee when your cold weather angling. This one came from Cabela's and works well. Hot coffee stays that way for a good six hours. It's small enough to keep in your sling pack, does not leak, and is stainless steel so it's unbreakable.

Bucktails. These are as simple as you get. In Fran Betters book he talks about "Old Fashioned Bucktails", these are a couple of them. These are tied with yarn and bucktail, that"s it. On a natural bucktail there are three different colors, white, brown, and a darker brown. These can be used to give you various shades of color to match the minnows in the waters you fish.

The "Pinkie Variant" I have not tried this variation as of yet. But I think that the small marabou collar might add some movement and draw a strike.

Spam. No not the junk, the good stuff. I know you all have tried Spam, and while most won't say it but they do like it. It's probably not the healthiest food to eat, but once and awhile live on the edge and enjoy it.

A December outing on a small stream.

We here in New England are about to get whacked with our first taste of winter. They're calling for that lovely mixture of wintry precipitation and cold temps. So yesterday Mark, Kirk and I headed to a small stream to try and persuade a few wild guys to take the fly. The weather was supposed to be somewhat warmer than we were feeling, but still we were fishing. The stream was in good shape and I'm sure cold. I did not take a temp but I'll guess it was about 38. The first pool I came to I tossed a small streamer, because that's what I had on from a previous outing. After a few casts I took a hit, perhaps I picked the right fly...NOT. The next few pools brought nothing. I tied on a pink fly, one that Kirk refers to as "Pinkie". I stayed with that fly for the rest of the day and it was the right choice.

A couple of beautiful wild brookies who could not resist "Pinkie" As the day moved on The clouds rooled in and it felt as if it were getting colder. We made a decision to fish a different section of the stream and so we headed for it. Kirk and I fished this section before, but for Mark this was his first time here. I kind of think he liked this new section.

There comes a point on these cold days when the thought of "I'd pay 5 bucks for a hot cup of coffee" and this was a day I would do that.

This photo shows what early winter looks like on a small stream. Fishing a pretty swift run, not a place favored by brown trout, "Pinkie" was tossed out. As soon as the fly started to pickup speed a fish hit. I knew I had a solid hookup and the pull on the 2wt said it was a nice fish. How nice was realized as the brown came to hand.

A handsome wild brown. This was probably one of the 5 best browns I've had the pleasure of taking in this stream. There was a nice warm feeling as I walked back to my car.

The mountain top.....tradition

When my son and I arrived in Pennsylvania on Sunday morning the skies were on the brightening, and the air felt crisp. It had rained earlier and the woods were full of that earthy smell that is hard to describe. We have on most years gone to scout the piece of mountain we have hunted for over 25 years, not that anything has changed, but sort of a tradition. Deer hunting is full of tradition and that's as much the magnet as harvesting a deer. We pulled into the driveway of a landowner who has allowed us to park on his land. This little gesture has paid off in letting access the state land that borders his property. We only see this gentleman once or twice a year, but are treated like family when we do.

We put on our orange jackets and began our walk up the mountain to check things out. When we reached a woods road we were surprised what we saw. The power line that had been there since the first time we came to the mountain was changed in a big way. The power company was putting a mega cable through the right a way. They had cut the trees back about 15 to 20 yards on either side. It was not the same. We did not know what effect this would have on tomorrows hunt.

The alarm went off at 3:30 AM. A fast shower and check of the weather. We had received some snow overnight and the weather for today was iffy. With the gear in the vehicle we headed for coffee and at a 24 hour Turkey Hill. The coffee was fresh and hot, and the egg sandwich tasted so good. By 4:30 we were making our way through the dark woods. A bit of rain was falling and the wet forest floor made for slippery conditions. After we arrived at our usual stands it was still quite dark. My son hunts down from me and is about 300 yards. Looking through the trees for the rock I have hunted on for years I noticed I was able to get there with out an issue. I placed my rifle on the ground and removed my pack and got comfortable. That's when the rain had turned to sleet and snow. That's deer hunting.

About 9 AM I noticed a shadow moving through a clearing. It had that stop, look and move walk of a whitetail buck. I viewed him for a while and had hoped he would turn toward me for a shot, that did not happen.

It was now 1PM and nether my son or I saw another deer. The sun had made a brief appearance and felt good. I had just finished some peanut butter crackers. When I looked up I saw a deer walking straight toward me. I estimate it was about 75 yards. I reached down for my rifle and brought it into position. The deer still hadn't picked me up. He was about 50 yards and looking at me eye to eye. I could see his tail coming up and the 243 let go. The deer dropped. I waited a few minutes and went to where it was down. He lay there, the one shot had taken him quickly. Before tagging him I said a few words of thanks to the deer and those who gave me the chance to harvest this wonderful animal.

My son soon reached me and after dressing the deer helped to move the heavy back to the vehicle. This is no easy task and I appreciate his help. All part of this tradition.

Normally the tenderloins would be eaten as soon as we got in. But this time we waited until we got home, and they were fried for breakfast with scrambled eggs. "A New Tradition Started"