sstasiak
Super Pupa
So I took yesterday off to go to a job interview. Everything went well and I was done by about 10am. With the rest of the day wide open, I chose to fish the WTS section of the Pequannock. It was an absolutely perfect day for fishing and I had my first brown to hand only 20 minutes in. He was only about 8", but very feisty, jumping the whole time until he was brought to hand. I carefully removed the #8 black stonefly nymph from his lower lip and released him back into the riffle he came from. It was a wide, long riffle that I would have loved to work over more carefully, but was without a doubt shut down after the dance that little brownie performed all over it. Time to move on.
I worked my way upstream for about 40 minutes, spooking the occasional small fish, until I came up on a short riffle that just looked "fishy". A few casts to the tail yielded nothing. I took 2 or 3 slow steps upstream and began casting to the head. At this point casts were getting tricky due to the stream being no wider than the length of my 8' TFO, with THICK brush lining both banks. On the second drift I got what I was looking for. This time it was a more respectable fish that surprised me with the bend he put on the 4wt. Much like his buddy I caught downstream, he started his dancing act immediately. After a brief fight, his struggle seemed to subside, and just as I was pulling him towards the net that I held in my outstretched arm, he did a quick shake and spit the stonefly right back at me. After shouting a few choice explatives out loud, I accepted the "loss" and moved on. The fish was easily 14", probably a very modest estimate, and well worth shouting about losing(you guys know what I'm talking about).
Again, I began moving upstream where I proceeded to lose my stonefly in the thick brush. Here's where it got a little "hairy". Just as I was finishing tying on my next fly of choice, I heard a rustle in the bushes about 70 feet off the bank I was facing. At this point I was in one of very few sections of stream that didn't have thick brush right up to the waters edge. I gave a long shout, thinking it was just a few deer passing through. Again, the rustling started, and I saw bushes moving in a path that was headed right for me. I immediately thought, "definitely not deer, and definitely not something small". I shouted again, and within a few seconds saw the head and shoulders of an absolutely monstrous black bear appear above the waist high grass not more than 60 feet away from where I stood. NOT GOOD. With my ticker going into overdrive, I started yelling and flailing one arm trying to scare him, while with the other hand pulling out the 9" hunting knife I carry on trips like this. Not like I could've done much damage with it, but I figured it was better than nothing. At first he didn't seem to phased by my noise and flailing, and slowly turned around and took a few steps away. Then he turned back around and looked at me again. All I could think is, "You're SUPPOSED to keep going the other direction when I make noise". When he turned his head away, I ducked down out of his view, and started moving upstream slowly, all the while making as much loud noise as possible. I knew I still had a way to go before I got to the take out point which was the most nerve racking thing. For those of you who have never fished the Pequannock, once you're in the water at the put in point, you don't get out until the take out point. You just can't. There's brush lining the stream along almost the entire length.
After I got out of his sight and a bit upstream, I would stop about every 15 seconds or so to listen if he was still around as you can't see more than ten feet inland with all the bushes. The last thing I wanted was for him to try to run away in the direction I was going and run into him again.
Needless to say, that ended my day of fishing.
Sorry about the lengthy story, but that's exactly how it happened. Here are a couple of pics to illustrate what this stream looks like.
I worked my way upstream for about 40 minutes, spooking the occasional small fish, until I came up on a short riffle that just looked "fishy". A few casts to the tail yielded nothing. I took 2 or 3 slow steps upstream and began casting to the head. At this point casts were getting tricky due to the stream being no wider than the length of my 8' TFO, with THICK brush lining both banks. On the second drift I got what I was looking for. This time it was a more respectable fish that surprised me with the bend he put on the 4wt. Much like his buddy I caught downstream, he started his dancing act immediately. After a brief fight, his struggle seemed to subside, and just as I was pulling him towards the net that I held in my outstretched arm, he did a quick shake and spit the stonefly right back at me. After shouting a few choice explatives out loud, I accepted the "loss" and moved on. The fish was easily 14", probably a very modest estimate, and well worth shouting about losing(you guys know what I'm talking about).
Again, I began moving upstream where I proceeded to lose my stonefly in the thick brush. Here's where it got a little "hairy". Just as I was finishing tying on my next fly of choice, I heard a rustle in the bushes about 70 feet off the bank I was facing. At this point I was in one of very few sections of stream that didn't have thick brush right up to the waters edge. I gave a long shout, thinking it was just a few deer passing through. Again, the rustling started, and I saw bushes moving in a path that was headed right for me. I immediately thought, "definitely not deer, and definitely not something small". I shouted again, and within a few seconds saw the head and shoulders of an absolutely monstrous black bear appear above the waist high grass not more than 60 feet away from where I stood. NOT GOOD. With my ticker going into overdrive, I started yelling and flailing one arm trying to scare him, while with the other hand pulling out the 9" hunting knife I carry on trips like this. Not like I could've done much damage with it, but I figured it was better than nothing. At first he didn't seem to phased by my noise and flailing, and slowly turned around and took a few steps away. Then he turned back around and looked at me again. All I could think is, "You're SUPPOSED to keep going the other direction when I make noise". When he turned his head away, I ducked down out of his view, and started moving upstream slowly, all the while making as much loud noise as possible. I knew I still had a way to go before I got to the take out point which was the most nerve racking thing. For those of you who have never fished the Pequannock, once you're in the water at the put in point, you don't get out until the take out point. You just can't. There's brush lining the stream along almost the entire length.
After I got out of his sight and a bit upstream, I would stop about every 15 seconds or so to listen if he was still around as you can't see more than ten feet inland with all the bushes. The last thing I wanted was for him to try to run away in the direction I was going and run into him again.
Needless to say, that ended my day of fishing.
Sorry about the lengthy story, but that's exactly how it happened. Here are a couple of pics to illustrate what this stream looks like.
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