This week is my son’s birthday so we planned a few hours of fishing capped off by dinner. Our ambitious plan included a stop at the fabled Spruce Creek and the Little Juniata River. A quick pit stop for coffee and a breakfast sandwich at around 7 a.m. and we were headed for our destinations roughly 45 minutes away. We have such a tough life living so close to a number of storied flows! ha ha!

As we drove and talked, we waffled back and forth between going straight to Spruce Creek or stopping along the way to fish the Little J first. Being typical impatient anglers we took the option that would allow us to fish the soonest. Utilizing one of the many pull offs along the distance of the Little J we hastily threw together our fly and leader combination and headed for the water.

Today we each only carried one rod…our ten foot 3wt Euro Nymphing rods. We started at the top of slow deep pool so both of us opted to fish our double nymph rig under an indicator to start. Fittingly, being his birthday fishing trip, my son landed the first trout of the day. A nice wild brown that put up a hard fight skillfully using the current of a slightly higher than normal flow.

We landed a few wild browns within literally minutes of establishing our fishing positions alongside the “nervous water” near the top of a long deep pool. It was evident that the trout were pushed up near the top of the pool. My second fish was a healthy specimen with the usual beautiful markings of a Pennsylvania brown trout. Quick success made us greedy. We decided after only 15 minutes of fishing to continue on to Spruce Creek.

We arrived at the “experimental” section of Spruce Creek with the enthusiasm of a six year old on Christmas morning. We joked, laughed and boasted prematurely about how many fish we planned to catch. We practically sprinted down the trail to the lower end of the public section of creek. Well….hind sight is always 20/20. Our hasty and quick move to Spruce Creek may have been ill advised. After fishing hard through four great looking sections of water we were troutless… if that’s even a word. During the fishing process a sinking feeling slowly fell over me. You know, the feeling that makes your wading boots seem like they weight 200 pounds each. It was time to head back to the Little J! Not wanting to wade back down stream to an open path, we bushwacked our way through thick underbrush back to my jeep. Note to self. Break down your 10 foot rod before bushwacking…There was a lot of entangled lines, snagged nets and crawling on the way back up to the jeep! I always try to look for a silver lining in every situation. We did see definite early signs of spring on Spruce. Check out the photo of some wild carrots that likely sprouted during a recent string of warmer days!

The move back to the Little J payed off… Bingo! My son with a nice brown trout. Let’s just call it his birthday brown. He hooked into the fish tight lining a deep fast run that I likely would have passed up. It’s always gratifying to see a young man who is growing in the sport and learning to read water and make use of the right tactic at the right time. In particular if its your son. He’s been at my side for countless outdoor adventures since he was less than a year old.. literally. The fish fought hard in the driving current and I was happy to lend a hand with the net on an assist. Happy Birthday man!

We fished for a while longer after my son landed his best trout of the day. Eventually lack of bites drove us to the conclusion it was time scurry up the steep bank and head for the jeep. You’ve heard the saying, “what goes up must come down”. In fishing it always seems to be the opposite. “What goes down, must come up”. We walk down river to fish up river. We hike into deep remote valleys only to have to hike up out of the valley at the end of a long day. I find most often though that our walk back up is fueled by our moments of success,  the days comradery that comes from sharing a stream side lunch and enthusiastic stories of the one that got away. So the walk back up is most often easier than the walk down.