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I was starting to forget what Mike looked like. That is not necessarily a bad thing, but he is my fishing buddy. He said he had a pass to fish on Wednesday after work and needed to find some rising fish. In Ohio that means a trip to the Mad. I checked the weather, and things looked really good for some surface feeding fish Wednesday evening.  However, when I opened the door to go to work that morning, I quickly carried the two weight back in the house and grabbed the four weight. They were calling for high winds, and I needed to go a little heavier than I might normally.

As usual, I had to wait on Mike. He was being slow or caught in traffic or whatever. He finally arrived at our meeting spot, and we were soon on our way to the river.  We arrived mid afternoon and the water looked perfect, but the wind was not gusting; it was sustained. I was worried we might not see a rising fish. We quickly geared up and headed for some familiar water.

Within five minutes, I had missed two fish on a caddis. There was hope. Mike was not having as much luck, so we decided to head upstream to fish some water that I have not fished in three years. The area we fished allowed us to stay out of the wind. However, it did not prevent the debris from filtering into the river. There was a steady stream of grass and leaves and small twigs. There was also a steady stream of mayflies. The bugs continued to hatch throughout the afternoon. It was a fantastic hatch, but only a few fish seemed interested.

Mike and I hunted our way upstream. We slowly searched for rising fish. Finally, I spotted a good fish rising steadily under a tree and turned Mike loose. Mike patiently worked that fish for a half an hour before finally convincing that chunk of butter to take his parachute adams. It was just as enjoyable to watch the entire event unfold as it probably was for Mike to catch that fish. My only issue with the whole situation was the fact that Mike had not brought a net, and I had to christen my brand new net with his fish. I am not sure he would have even caught that fish without me. Seriously, Hank Patterson has nothing on me!

It was now my turn. I continued to fish with a caddis and a dropper, and we walked up on another rising fish. Within a few casts, I had hooked a solid fish that immediately went air born. It was not nearly as nice as the one Mike caught, but I was more than satisfied. Finally, I put my own fish in the net! Our game of hop scotch continued for another two fish.  Mike caught another nice fish and I landed a good fish that took me for a ride several yards downstream. We were having as much fun as you can on a trout stream here in Ohio.

It would have been a fantastic evening to film, but somebody did not have his SD cards or batteries. We saw a ton of wildlife. I even poked a groundhog in the ear with my fly rod. There were mink and beaver and the oriels we spectacular along the river’s banks.

We continued to hunt for more rising fish, but failed to find any. We made one more move that ended with a couple of missed fish right before dark. Tonight was the type of classic dry fly fishing that I love most. Tough conditions, picky fish, difficult presentations all make for the most rewarding days on the water. I know this much, Mike sure seemed to have a good time. I am not sure if it was because of the fish he caught or that fact that he finally got to spend some time on the water with me. It was probably me!

When I was a kid I remember specifically my grandfather talking about catching bluegills at Mogadore Reservoir with a fly rod. I was never with him when this happened, but he spoke of it often. He would say that there was nothing more fun than a bluegill on a popper. I heard those stories more than one time growing up. Pap had a way of telling you a story more than once, or twice, or… With that story etched into my memory, I felt that bluegill would be the first order of business for the old rod.

Matthew and I decided to fish at one of our favorite ponds. After a quick phone call, we were on our way.  I must admit to how fortunate I am. Jack and Melody Timmons are always so generous to allow us to fish or hunt on their land. Their kindness to my family can neither be measured nor described. They have treated me like family for many years, and I am thankful for their presence in our lives. It only seemed appropriate to take the “old” rod there for its reintroduction to fish.

Matthew decided that he would spin fish for most of the trip, so I quickly rigged up the fly rod and began my search for bluegill. Before I could get started, Matthew had landed a nice bass and lost another. I tied on a small popper given to me by good friend, Steve Schweitzer. On my first cast with the Pap’s old rod, I managed to catch a beautiful gill. The reintroduction was complete, and I felt a greater sense of accomplishment than I have in many years of fishing.

A Steve Schweitzer tied popper.

I soon gave the rod to Matthew and he was on the board with another fine gill. It was a beautiful afternoon. Matthew and I decided to wear our Fiberglass Manifesto shirts while we fished with the old glass rod. It was Cameron Mortenson and his awesome website that motivated me to do this project.  The Fiberglass Manifesto is also celebrating the “Year of the Bluegill.” I thought it was only fitting to take him along as well. With the rod now seeing its fair share of bluegill, I thought it was time to change flies and try to find a bass or two.

Matthew rockin the Rocky Mountain Flyfisher hat and his Fiberglass Manifesto Shirt

I did not want to get too fancy, so I tied on a brown bugger and began casting along the shore line. On my second or third cast, I watched a wake of water move quickly toward my fly. Without hesitation, a nice largemouth had become the second species for Pap’s old rod. It was cool to catch such a nice fish on that old rod. Matthew and I fished for a couple more hours and caught several more fish. We had fun goofing off and being silly. We even had the chance to visit with Jack which is always a treat for me. It was time well spent.

I think I want to catch a couple more fish before I ship the rod to my dad and brother. This rod has allowed me to remember many good times while creating a few more worth remembering. Forgive me for sounding too sentimental here, but the whole experience reminds me of an Avett Brothers line: “Always remember there was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name.”  Creating memories and spending time with family here in the Flatland, there is nothing better.

The sun finally peeked out. I knew that I was walking in on a spot in the stream that could hold an active fish, so a stealthy approach was necessary. As soon as I could see the water, I could see fish. Then a rise. Then another. Then I saw this little guy literally jumping out of the water after a bug that had already taken flight. Tied on a Parachute Adams, and I started catching famished fish one after the other.

This was not a typical day of our early season trout trips to NW PA. In fact, this was the last day of the trip…a day that successfully capped off what had been a very tough weekend of fishing.

There is no shortage of fishy water in this part of Pennsylvania. Without thinking hard, I can name more than a dozen cold water streams within an hour’s drive of my in-laws’ cabin outside of Tidioute. This year we added to the list by exploring new streams that we’ve only read about. One of those was Kinzua Creek’s DH section.

Kinzua was the only place where we really ran in to other fisherman. For good reason. I walked about a mile of the stream before casting a line. The holes and deep runs were apparent, though not a frequent sight. Only two of the holes that I cast two produced fish. The water was so clear in one hole that I was able to watch fish get aggressive with a wollybugger. A faster, shallower run yielded a fish on an elk hair caddis – wasn’t really expecting that so I didn’t get a visual on the strike

After that we hit a familiar FFO/CNR stream called Caldwell Creek. I always have a lot of fun on this stream – seems like the fish are primed for flies where other streams’ trout seem to prefer the offerings of spin fisherman. Never saw a rise on Caldwell, which was a bit of a disappointment, but I did manage to trick a couple small browns into hitting a dropper nymph.

The other new water we hit this year was the DH section of East Hickory. A beautiful slow grade stream that passes through the small town of Endeavor, PA. The weather and the water looked just right for a major hatch the evening that we were there. But, the bug activity was minimal, and the only fish hooked were on spinning gear.

Had a delightful encounter with some gentlemen from the Oil Creek Chapter of TU at the Little Sandy pull-off when we were on our way back home Tuesday. They, in fact, explained that there were a few streams that were not giving up good hatches in the area – at least not the kinds of hatches those same streams had in the past. I was also given the low-down of stocking strategies there at the Little Sandy, as well as the Big Sandy, Oil Creek and Caldwell Creek. Of course, before all of this chatting I was on the Little Sandy catching famished fish one after the other with a #16 Parachu…I mean Shane Fly.

Simply, I cannot mention a trip to NW PA without talking about Thompson Run. Seriously, one of the most beautiful places I’ve been. Imagine fishing micro streams for native brookies on the set of Lord of the Rings. These little brookies are so aggressive, and so beautifully marked, I was quite content catching them on dries while my father- and brother-in-law cleaned up on the larger stockers.

I consider myself very lucky to have such access and opportunity to fish the waters of NW PA. As always, I’m very grateful to my father-in-law for his hospitality. And I have to mention that my brother-in-law Devan was outfishing all of us. Handily! That still doesn’t sit very well with me

On my first trip to Colorado three years ago, I had the chance to handle a Tenkara rod. It was simple and light. The idea seemed to be that of an old cane pole. I was impressed by the size and simplicity of the whole idea, but I was in no hurry to run out and buy one. On that trip into the mountains, friend and author Steve Schweitzer fished with his Tenkara rod most of that first evening. It was perfect for the pocket water and dry flies that we fished along the stream. Steve landed several fish that evening, and he seemed very content doing so with such simple gear.
Recently, our local fly shop, Mad River Outfitters, has introduced Tenkara to Ohio. They are very excited about the rods, and the fishing they apply to here in the Midwest. On their Facebook page, they were giving away a new rod, and I shared the post for my chance to win. I did not win, but my ever generous brother-in-law, Wes Wells, saw the post, contacted my very generous in laws, and they all pitched in to buy me a lovely birthday present.

My first Tenkara trout

I was more than pleasantly surprised with the new rod. It is simple, compact, light and very delicate. The rod telescopes out from an twenty inch section to become an eleven foot rod. It is perfect for backpacking or long hikes. It is also a perfect fit for fishing small streams and pocket water.  I was anxious to get out and try it on my local stream. I thought the rod would be a perfect fit for the small browns and skinny water we have here. I furled a leader-my first ever- and prepared to fish with my new toy. For those of you that have never seen a Tenkara rod or do not know how they work, here is a video from Tenkara USA: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N40BOFYKR38
I was pleased with the leader and the ease with which the rod presented a fly. I was also very impressed with just how much water I could cover with the eleven foot rod and a ten foot leader. I quickly found a willing fish that rose to my caddis fly. A small brown had christened the new rod, and I was very satisfied with the new fun that I had found.


The section of the creek I fished today seemed to be the perfect environment for the Tenkara rod. The simple beauty of this stream seemed fitting for the fishing this new rod afforded me. The afternoon rains softened the landscape and gave the brightly flowered valley a feeling of some distant destination.

Once again, I had the pleasure of having the company of the Ridenours. We fished throughout the afternoon finding a few willing fish in most of the likely spots. Max, again, did well to catch several fish. His casting and willingness to learn make him a fine fly fisherman. Bruce also managed a fish or two on this trip, so he said. I never actually witnessed him landing a fish. We endured a little rain and a few menacing geese, but the afternoon was warm and pleasant.

I managed five small trout on the new rod. All of them rose confidently to take caddis from the surface. I only planned on using the Tenkara rod for a portion of this trip, but I found that I was content to leave my traditional gear in the car. The long rod even allowed me to cover some water that I could have never fished with a traditional fly rod. When I finished fishing for the day, I simply removed the leader and closed the rod. The entire outfit fit in my pocket and made for a very simple walk back through the woods. I am looking forward to getting the new rod back out on the water soon. I think there may even be some bluegill in the near future. It is always exciting to experience something new in the world of fly fishing. Thankfully, Tenkara has finally found its way here to the Flatland!

Many of you know that my grandfather played an integral role in my life as a fisherman. When I was a boy, I was fortunate to spend a great deal of time fishing with him. Recently, my brother sent me a package. In that package was several of my grandfather’s old rods along with a couple of old reels. My grandfather normally left a rod or two on the porch or one in the barn. This kept them handy for a quick trip down in the bottom to fish the crick. Because of this, the rods were not in the best of shape. However, one stood out as a potential candidate to do something special.
Pap’s old Martin “Tuffy” looked like the perfect candidate for a refurbish project. I wanted to do something special for our 100th post, and I thought this project was a perfect idea. I wanted to refinish the rod, fish with it, and then send it on to other family members for them to fish and remember time well spent with Pap. I thought this would be a great tribute to a man who was always doing “uncommonly well.”
I started by stripping the rod and taking it down to just a blank. I had no intentions on making the rod “perfect,” but I wanted it to look good and function as well as an old rod could. I had high hopes of saving the cork, but it was rotten and crumbling. I did keep the reel seat and cleaned it up as well as I could.
I was fortunate to have a set of new guides and plenty of thread. Since the reel was green, I decided to use green thread to wrap the rod. It also helped that I happened to have several spools of the green thread handy. I ordered a new piece of cork, and although it is not the cigar shape that was on the rod, I like the way it looks nevertheless.
I was fortunate to have one of Pap’s old hunting license and practiced signing his name as closely as he once had. It is not his signature, but it is as close as I could get to having him write his own name on a rod that he once fished.I think he would have liked it. I know I do.
I am very pleased with the finished product. I have cleaned up the old automatic reel as well. I am waiting on the fly line and hope to take it for a test drive later in the week. I think its first victim will be some bluegill from one of my favorite local ponds. From there, Matthew will have his turn. I am really looking forward to sharing this rod’s new adventures with all of you. In the mean time, here are some pictures of its rebirth.

I love magazines. I always have. Since I was a boy, I have always been fascinated by the stories, pictures and advertisements that those beautifully colored pages offered. I loved to see pictures of giant fish caught in beautiful locations. I would dreamily thumb through those pages and imagine holding each one of those fish. They were fantastic fantasies.
I still enjoy a good magazine today. There is just something special about receiving something so fantastic in the mail. However, the magazines today seem to be more advertisement than substance. Sure the pictures are still amazingly beautiful, but there seems to be more adds than there are stories. The magazines are thin and often void of the well written stories that I remember so fondly.
So where does one turn for beautiful photography and well written stories- the internet of course. Today, my three favorite magazines arrive via email. There are some amazing publications being shared on the web. They are full of substance, passion, and pretty photos. They are not pretentious or arrogant in their writings, but rather passionate, realistic and most importantly, often sarcastic. They are published by people looking only to share their interests and passion for fly fishing. Best of all, they are free- my favorite four letter word.
For the sake of brevity, I will mention my three favorites. First would be my a Tight Loops subscription. The current issue can be found here: http://atightloop.com/Spring2013.html

My next choice of fly fishing excitement comes from the guys at This is Fly which can be found here: http://www.thisisfly.com/

And finally, my absolute favorite online magazine is from the fellas at S.C.O.F.F. or Southern Culture on the Fly. Which you can find here: http://www.southerncultureonthefly.com/

All of these magazines have that fishing buddy quality in their story telling. It is a quality that I enjoy more and more as I age. Reading these give me the same feeling I have when sharing stories around a good campfire. This type of entertainment is becoming harder and harder to find.
These websites are currently running their spring editions. I would encourage you to subscribe then you can then decide which you like best. I do know this much, you won’t be sorry.

Throughout the school year, I have times when I just need the day off. Yesterday was one of those days. The weather was perfect. The prospects of trout rising and gobbling turkeys was more than enough to warrant a personal day. It was the perfect day to enjoy the outdoors here in the Flatland, and I devoted my day to doing just that.

Waking up with the woods

I have never understood why it is called red bud?

I woke up with the woods. I watched the stars fade and the sky brighten on the horizon. It was a beautiful morning. I enjoyed the sounds of spring gobblers calling out for a receptive mate. I had several birds interested, but seductive hens kept them from committing to my calls. Nevertheless, it was a good hunt.

A pretty little gill

That particular piece of property is littered with small ponds. I always try to pack in a fly rod so that I can fish on my way out. Today’s hunt took me past one small pond that seemed unusually void of fish. I saw only four small bass and a handful of bluegill. I quickly caught one of the bluegill and headed home to complete a few chores.

one of my favorite caddis stretches

With my chores finished, it was time to see if the caddis were hatching on my favorite local stretch. I was on the water by 2pm and there were caddis flitting about. A few splashy rises allowed my hopes to become realities. It was not a water covering event, but the caddis were right where they should have been. I found many fish in the faster, broken water. Some rose violently while others seemed to sip confidently from the surface. It was an event that I would have been content just to watch, but I was there to fish and that is exactly what I did.

a picture for Larry

I landed more fish today than I deserved. There were no monsters, but I will take rising fish over big fish any day. I fished for a couple of hours and even took time to enjoy some of the scenery. Spring has finally sprung here, and the valley seemed to be celebrating. The flowers, the wildlife, the trout, and I enjoyed the amazing weather here in the Flatland.

Our state flower

new to the world

Today, I was a loner. I decided to fish the Mad. Mike was busy, so I went it alone. I do not mind fishing alone. It often gives me a chance to cover some water that would be too crowded with two people. I can explore at my own speed and leave when I have my fill. It is good to fish alone every now and then, but I would not want to make a habit of it.
My drive to the Mad was uneventful. It was a quick trip that started just before noon. This mornings cold temperatures left me with more patience than I might have had on a warmer day. The sun was shining and the wind here had finally died. I had high hopes that the hendricksons would be hatching this afternoon, and I intended to find out if the fish would be interested in them.

I arrived on the river some time after 1pm. I spoke with another gentleman that was headed down stream. I had intended to go up stream. After a quick conversation and a few pleasantries, I geared up and headed up river. There were a few midges flitting about, but there were no signs of larger bugs-yet. I tied on a parachute adams and a copper john dropper. It did not take long to find a few willing fish. I had not gone far before I had seven fish to hand. I had also missed several more.

I took my time. I tried to fish methodically through every run and riffle. It turned out to be one of those rare days where you can find fish exactly where they should be. I was enjoying my afternoon when I hit a long straight stretch of water that is very clear and technical. I spooked several fish and had to remind myself to slow down and pay better attentions.
As I began to slow, I notice the birds working a several runs of faster water. Almost on cue, a hendrickson flew past my nose and my mouth moved toward a wicked grin. It was starting, and I was in a perfect spot to watch it happen. From 3 pm to 4 pm, I had steady risers all around. I quickly switched over to a parachute hendrickson and began casting to rising fish. I had waited for this moment all winter, and I was giddy at its arrival. I am not sure how many fish I landed or lost, but it was a bunch.


As quickly as it came, it was over. The fish continued to look up for another hour or so, but the hatch had come and gone. I could not stick around to see if there would be a spinner fall. I had too many things to do at home. I was thankful to have experienced my first good hatch of the year. The dry-fly season is finally upon us, and things are looking up here in the Flatland!

It is almost time for my favorite hatch of the year. The hendrickson hatch has always been one of the most consistent may fly hatches on the Mad river. It is a great hatch that normally comes off during the warmest hours of the day and then creates prolific spinner falls each evening. I had hoped that I would get to witness this hatch in its earliest stages with today’s trip to the Mad. I never saw a may fly, but I did see several stone flies and a couple of caddis. I also saw a ton of midges. I am afraid that I fished the calm before the storm.

I was lucky enough to meet the Ridenour boys on the river today. It was my last official day of spring break, and with today’s weather, I planned on making the most of it. I managed a couple of fish before they arrived, and together we beat a popular section of river without moving another fish. I did manage one more before lunch, but it was not the kind of morning I had hoped for. After grabbing a quick bite to eat, we decided to head further upstream.
At our next stop, we decided that we would split up and search for some active fish. I landed three and was able to find a few risers. I quickly called Bruce and soon he and Max were casting to a few rising fish. Max was up first and we had him in position to cast to the lower of the two active fish. I was extremely impressed with his casting and patience. It did not take long before he was rewarded for those skills. Max was quickly on the board with two feisty Mad River browns.

Max Ridenour’s first Mad River brown

As for Bruce, he was reminded as to how the river earned its name. He had feeding fish in front of him most of the afternoon, but they refused every offering he sent their way. They continued to feed and rise while he himself became, well- Mad.
It was a beautiful afternoon that saw several fish come to the net.The weather was amazing, and the company was great. The fly of the day was a size 14 copper john. It produced the most fish. However, there were a couple fish fooled with a parachute red quill. The water is low and clear. It is perfect for sight fishing, but it is also perfect for spooking fish. If you have the chance in the next couple of weeks, you should fish the Mad. It is the best trout river here in the Flatland.

After a morning filled with yard work and various house chores, I found a few hours on the water. Although the temperature finally found the fifty degree mark, it was still chilly in the valley. I managed a solid hour and a half of fishing and found a few willing trout for my efforts. The highlight of the trip was a fish that I had missed two times before, and the few midge sipping browns that I was able to fool.

My favorite stretch for midges.

I love to fish midges. I love to watch trout sip midges. I could watch a trout sip through the surface film for hours and be content in just witnessing those methodical feeding frenzies. I would not even need to cast. The action was not as steady as I would have liked to have seen, but the sporadic rises were enough to entice a few fish to the surface. It felt good just to hear the line jump from the water with the hook set.

Solid!

As for the trout that has eluded me in my last two trips to this section, I was glad to finally have a chace to visit with such a fine fish. This creek took the brunt of last year’s drought. Any fish over ten inches here is a good fish. This fish was a great fish for this creek. I have struggled to get a good hook set on the previous trips. There are three different currents between where this fish feeds and where I must stand. Tonight, the water was slow enough that I was able to avoid the slack line that caused me to miss this fish twice before. I made a good cast and a quick mend and then saw my line twitch. A quick hook set was all that was needed. It was a good feeling to finally land that fish. It was a good night here in the Flatland!
Tomorrow I fish the Mad!