The trip, both ways, was made more exciting by the 30 – 40 mph winds that moved my van about like a carnival ride. At last I arrived and had already plotted what I would do with all the fish I caught. A small one would go home with me and the other 10 or so would get a reprieve. This time, I had maneuvered through the early season pitfalls and was about to enjoy some good fishing. After all it was in the mid forties over night and now the temps were above 50.

Not! The stream wasn’t high but it wasn’t clear and it had uniform chunks of floating ice in a steady armada. It was a freshwater stew! WHAT HAPPENED to low and clear? After mentally cursing out the guy I called that morning, I began talking to other fishermen that confirmed the low and clear story. "At 7:30 am the water was clear and we caught several nice fish on Walnut." "It started to get muddy about 10:30 so we came to Elk and then the ice showed up." Once again the fishing gods chose to disappoint rather than reward.

I wasn’t done yet. Maybe if I went up stream it would be less roiled. So pack up the van and drive. The wind was now gusting over 30mph and driving in your own lane was not a simple task. East on 832 towards I-79 and past there to McKean. After a short walk through the greasiest mud imaginable I spied the creek…you guessed… it was much smaller in size but just as dirty. Speaking of dirty, my van looked like I was collecting soil samples and transporting them in the front footwells.

Mother Nature won that day but my fever was reduced a few notches. I’m not sure if it was because of getting out in the great outdoors or just the wind chill. I did accomplish something that day. I washed the van and the wind dried it for me. Well, I only lost some pride and one fly that day.

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Early Season
Steelhead Lesson

Nick Loprire

More than likely the first fishing trip of the year is more wishful anticipation, than concrete reality. It’s not that we are all fools it’s just that the fever (spring type) prevents the accurate assessment of the present conditions. This is not a unique problem to fishermen. Golfers are a worse lot. With early season golfers there is not even a prayer of performing at the same level that would be expected in two more months. The course is frozen or muddy or both, and the greens are lumpy and burnt. No doubt a bit of touch is lost when a glove is required on both hands. Fishing though, holds hope that a school of lost, stupid, immune to the cold fish, will encounter the correct lure presented in the most perfect manner at exactly the right time so that the fish will literally fall on their swords.

I awoke fighting back the effects of the fever that Sunday morning. Though smitten, I wasn’t so delirious that I would venture forth without calling to check on conditions. Can’t fool me. No need to make a rookie mistake and arrive to find the stream the color of my morning coffee. I called the local shop. The man on the phone said the stream was low, clear and they are catching fish (8:00 AM). A kiss for my doubting wife and I was off.