It’s been unusually cold this December in western PA. So much so that many of the steelhead tribs have been locked with ice. But mid-last week, there was a warming trend that offered both remedy and disaster. We (Number 3 Son Gordo) were scheduled to fish both Thursday and Friday. When we arrived on Elk Creek Thursday morning, conditions were as good as they’d been in a while: some ice, some color in the water, but very fishable lanes. As the temperature soared into the 50s, conditions deteriorated rapidly. First came the ice chunks — hundreds of them, in a seemingly endless string — floating down the cafeteria line, destroying any chance to make a drift. Next was the color: a light stain that morphed into a heavier stain, and finally an opaque mess the color of tea and milk. And of course, all this runoff was cold, making the water temp a feeding-unfriendly 32.5 degrees. Oh. I forgot the wind. 10-20mph, with 30+mph gusts. Sound like fun? This was about as challenging as winter steelheading gets.
Gordo’s first steelhead on the fly! Gordo’s been steelheading for ten years, but it’s all been float fishing with a spinning rod on Ontario tribs. The wind made casting a challenge — even I struggled mightily at times — but Gordo was able to get his fly where the fish were feeding. This buck came in some faster water at the head of a dump-in. As the water colored up, the fish began to move into softer water farther down in the pool.While I was amusing myself with a pod of fish downstream, Gordo was getting the hang of fly fishing Erie tribs in sub-optimal conditions. He ended up with five on the day, which is excellent given the wind and water, and a pretty good day, period. You can see the infernal ice chunks we were dealing with. They would suddenly materialize, and you had to wait for them to pass before you could resume fishing.Can’t let Gordo have all the fun, can we? By noon, conditions were bad enough to make the bite non-existent. So we made the command decision to head way upstream in search of cleaner water. We found it, but it only lasted an hour. Before it turned, I managed a spirited buck in a swift, undulating slot hard against a shale wall. I dropped one more, then fouled one, which I don’t count as a landed fish. If you’re keeping score at home, six in the hoop brings my grand total to 288 steelhead landed. So close! Continued warming and heavy overnight rains turned the creeks into raging torrents of chocolate milk, so we had to cancel Friday. It was frustrating to miss a day’s fishing, but I’m grateful that we got a day in.
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