Cicada Glory

The idea for this trip was spawned some months before June. The timeframe for the trip was based mainly on missing the green drake hatch, which, in central PA, attracts fly fishermen like moths to a lantern. Most trips do not warrant alot of planning, but I've had my ass kicked before in central PA. Namely by Penns Creek. If you haven't fished Penns, there's only a few things you need to know. There are more bugs than you can count, and wading it is a bitch. The issue of the bugs required quite a bit of fly tying since our fly boxes didn't match what we'd need. Slate Drakes, Light Cahills, Orange Cahills, BWOs, Sulphurs, Blue Quills, Tan Caddis, Green Caddis, Craneflies, andStoneflies in different sizes and flavors we decided should cover most of the bugs we'd encounter. Here's a smattering of what we filled our boxes with.

It was brought to my attention a few weeks beforehand, that the 17 year cicada's may be hatching in the destination area. HELL YEAH! We had plaguelike numbers of the little black and orange critters in the Central Ohio are a few years earlier, which amounted to some rediculous smallmouth fishing. Fingers were crossed, and some foam was tied to hooks.


With the fly boxes stocked, and cooler full of beer (buying beer in PA is a bitch), we mad the short 6 hour jog east. We hit the campsite for a minute to get the gear together.

Yeah, we're fly whores. And to drink a few of these.

Off to the river. As we got closer the droning sound of cicadas gave me a semi. Still a moment for the scenery. Even little mountains are impressive to flatlanders.

After a short walk, fishing commenced. I plugged away at some risers with a cahill emerger, which was easy enough. But, Chris persisted with the cicada, and was paid handsomely.

Probibly the fish of the trip. Alas, shortly after, this one, he hooked and lost it's big brother.  We investigated another local stream the following day to find it packed with cicada's, and fishermen. Luckily a short drive found solitude and trout eager for foam. Didn't count, but there were many trout brought to hand. Most about like this one.

Yeah, I know that's a fuzzy picture. The POS camera decided not to focus on a single pic that day, so just multiply that fat little guy by a few dozen and you'll get the point.
A good day deserves a good night.

 

We explored the area Saturday and were not blessed as well by the cicada gods. Lots of pretty water though.

And hungry emaciated deer

More trout were caught and beer drank in the evening. A lousy thunderstorm tried to kill our campfire, and a dead battery threatened to strand us in the hills on sunday. We got fixed up and back to the C-Bus without incident though. Now we're looking forward to 2025 when the cicadas return.