Today the Fishing Was For the Birds

Tulpehocken Creek empties Blue Marsh Lake, where we have hiked and paddled, and empties into the Schuylkill River in Berks County, Pennsylvania.  It is a beautiful trout stream and is stocked annually.  Just below the spillway of Blue Mark Lake's dam, in Stilling Basin, begins a section of Tulpehocken Creek that only permits artificial lures and requires delayed harvest (June 15).  Prior to that date, it is only catch-and-release.

That's okay, our 2019 Alaska trip, and all of its daily catches of fat trout for dinner did not spoil us for catch-and-release fishing, which seems a little like only getting to third base -- but we digress.

This was our first fly-fishing outing of the season in Pennsylvania, and we were excited to get back into the swing of things and explore the stream.  Here's where we parked at Stilling Basin, looking upstream toward the spillway.  Our wading would take us the other way.

This is an extraordinarily heavily fished stream in normal times, but in this era of Covid-19 lockdown, which still affects this area, many more fisherman are out on the stream weekdays to cast away their Covid blues.  We arrived before 8am, which is relatively early, and already we counted six fishermen on the stream just in the first 1/8 mile.  Combat fishing, they call it.

Kathy seized a location just below the spillway which, for some reason, was not presently occupied.  David hiked down a way to look for a likely -- and empty -- spot.  It wasn't long before David found this pretty little stretch, which boasted a pretty view upstream, a barrier of rocks to create a pool and a channel for fishy delights --

Looking downstream, which is this view from Kathy's camera toward David, you can see how the stream stretches leisurely through the rural Pennsylvania hills:

Kathy picked a rocky peninsula for her fishing, too, and in the photo below demonstrates the proper enthusiasm that a fly-fisher should bring to the stream:

No sooner had David gotten to his perch at the end of his rocky outcrop, than he was joined by a whole host of feathered observers:

When Kathy came on the scene, the first arrival, a great blue heron was perched across the stream watching Dave fish:

The heron had flown to a branch high above the stream and assessed whether Dave presented any danger --

-- then s/he flew down to streamside and spent the next 2 hours watching him.  We assume that local birds have learned that, if a fisherman is standing still, then there must be fish in the offing.  This one was clearly awaiting lunch:

After half an hour or so, the heron started moving along the water, trying to do its own fishing:

It carefully assessed a dead trunk jutting out of the water --

-- and worked its way up to a more strategic perch --

-- eventually reaching the right spot:

Eventually, after a full two hours, the heron grew tired waiting for Dave to catch its lunch.  It flew off and Dave caught it in this stop-motion sequence, as it moved downstream for greener fishy pastures:

But the heron wasn't the only observer.  Immediately after the heron first arrived, first one vulture approached, circled --

-- and landed in a nearby tree, followed, over the next half hour, by three other vultures.  Eventually, they all were perched there calmly, pretending not to watch this fisherman to see if some piece of trout might be left behind for their nourishment:

Not just the heron.  Not just the vultures.  Ducks arrived.  This duck flew upstream, eyeing Dave's line as it passed.  It seemed to disappear, but --

-- in fact it landed, with its mate, behind Dave and poked around the stream bank, gobbling bugs and fry, but always eyeing the fisherman.  Eventually, the ducks made a sound.  Dave turned around to see them kibitzing, but when they spotted his gaze --

-- they took off downstream post haste:

But that's still not all!  The ducky ruckus startled a mother duck and her ducklings, who figured that there must be some disaster approaching, and they scooted out into the current and headed downstream, away from the only obvious source of danger -- the fisherman:

Neither of us caught any trout.  Kathy caught a little bluegill, and Dave got four or five hard nibbles in a pool near his spot.  We saw lots of rises, which only added insult ("I'm actually here...") to injury ("...but you can't catch me...").  After nearly three-and-a-half hours of hunting the elusive salmonid, we hung up the waders and returned to our campground to handle the mundane life of chores.

You can see from this why we titled this blog, "Today the Fishing Was For the Birds."

But our day was brightened by a Zoom Happy Hour call with our good RV friends, Bob and Cathy.  We enjoyed hearing about their adventures, comparing notes about hunkering down from the virus, and commiserating about other matters of present existence.  We wished each other safe travels and agreed to tune back into each other this Fall when we all start dealing with the onset of cold weather.

But for now, the weather is warm, the trout are calling, and we can't wait for our next fishing trip!