Back to the Breeches!  The Yellow Breeches are a special place.  A mix of limestone spring from the village aptly named Boiling springs, combined with freestone characteristics, the waters produce as many trout per mile as anywhere in lower Pennsylvania.  It was one of the first places I went to learn how to fly fish only to freeze my butt off with CC and came up skunked over 20 years ago.  It was the first place where I felt like a fly fisherman the following summer by adapting my presentation to the desires of our quarry.  It was the first place I took my children to learn how to fly fish.  It was Michael's favorite place to fish and where  I can still see his ear to ear grin after landing his first brown trout under the shade of a Sycamore tree that continues to stand watch over the stream.

With temperatures forecast to be in the mid to upper 70s, it didn't take much time to decide to make the jaunt up to The Allenberry Resort with Little Joe to wet some flies and see how many brown and rainbow trout we could bring to the net.  Adding to the anticipation, CC informed me that it was "fly fishing camp" week for local kids.  This meant that there could be additional bevy of stocked fish in the stream!

Little Joe (a.k.a 2nd Lt Salt Life) headed to the stream ahead of the old man as I wrapped up a work call.  By the time I arrived he reported to have landed 1 rainbow.  The water was more cloudy than I had hoped and was higher than expected.  Recent thunderstorms were the culprit.  Undeterred, I stuck with my game plan and offered a high visibility beetle with a black midge dropper.   It is a go to combination in the summer months.  I soon began to doubt my choice when I failed to spot any rising fish or any bugs coming off of the stream save the occasional caddis.

With an overcast sky and not a single strike after 20 minutes, I decided to shift to a black bead headed wooly bugger.  I sent the fly downstream and retrieved the line in very short strips.  Utilizing a tactic from Belize, I sent the rod tip under the surface of the water to keep the fly down near the gravel as I stripped line.   Within minutes I had a strike, then another, and another.  Within an hour I landed several fish.  Joe was holding his own but came to join in on the frequency of the bite within the 100 yard stretch that I was working. We were averaging a fish every 4 - 6 casts.  Together we landed over 20 fish. The best being a beautiful 17+ inch brown with bright colors and a hooked jaw.

It was a very nice day on the water with my son, plenty of fish to release, and a worn out wooly bugger.