By a mere stroke of fate, I found myself within 30 miles of the Gunpowder River in Maryland. I know of this river through one of the fishing blogs I follow, Tight Lined Tales of a Fly Fisherman, TLTFF for short. I've been seeing the pictures, reading about the fishing, and immediately got it in my head that I was going to fish it! So, as luck would have it, I was in the car with vest and rod (also, my beautiful new Allen Alpha 1) and found Little Gunpowder Falls. It's a small unassuming parking lot and on that hot day it was full of cars. Maybe not full, but certainly more than my pre-conceived notions had expected. I geared up and headed into the trail coming down a hill to the river. The very first thing that stood out was how clear the water was. This time of year the rivers by me tend to be a little cloudier, the Gunpowder was almost alkaline in its clarity. I admired the view for just a bit, the river was languidly flowing, a riffle here and there, a few surfacers dipping up into the air. Lush green over hangs of Ash and Oak and a sweetness in the air that would occasionally dance with a whisper of smoke from some far off ground fire. First choice, s.16 Henryville Special. The Sunnies hit the roof! Out of nowhere, seemingly materializing from the water itself, black darts with green see-thru tails, looking to make their escape velocity into our biosphere, their atmosphere. SLAM!!! First customer was a whopping 4" Sunnie. The next twelve were not much bigger, but those little jerks peel line... If you set it light enough (GO! Allen Alpha 1). After a few minutes of Sunnie mayhem, I started up river. I saw a Largemouth cruise by, like a teenage girl on Facebook at the Louvre, completely uninterested. A few yards up, a long dark shape dashed out from under some rocks. Looked to me like a Catfish, but I won't bet. Underneath the Railway, with it's stone abutments and girders reaching for the rails, clacking and shaking as the freight rolls over, the locals have a rope swing on the opposing bank. The children splash, the women gossip, while the men swim and wrestle and test their watery meddle. It's almost a scene from an older time, the whole place does have a watch fires and muskets sort of feel to it. Maybe, it's because it's so close to the Mason-Dixon line, maybe it's my Yankee cultural bias. I hiked upstream past the falls where I found a small, deep pool. This is where I decided to tie on a Hopper, s8 (about. We'll call it a Medium Hopper). I'm still adjusting to my new furled leader courtesy of a fellow fisherman, BJ aka- flyrodgod. This leader turns the fly so nice I had to adjust my cast to it. Definitely less power, more grace. Concentrating on the presentation; casting away from where the fish are, so as not to spook the hole, a few tangles, and some humidity later, I started flying it right. I moved over to where the fish were and no sooner did that hopper alight on that glassy meniscus, BOOM!!! A Smallie shatters the tranquil liquid, hook set, and bring 'em in! That guy breeched 3 times about a foot out over the water during the fight. This was, unfortunately, to be the last fish I landed. After the fight and release the Smalls were still hitting. They'd take it and let me set the hook, only to jump out and spit it at me or they'd come after just to hit and get away. We might say Gunpowder Smallies like to hit it and quit it! Time's up! I look at iPhone and sadly, it was time to hike back. The experience for me was speed fishing 101. I also must say, it was around 3pm, high humidity, high barometric pressure. Fishermen in the know call this, The Dead Time. I fished the Gunpowder at the height of the dead time and had a very productive session! I can't wait to fish it with TLTFF and do it when the fish are on! So, I caused a Fishpanic at the Gunpowder, in short time, at a bad time. This river gets my respect! Thanx to TLTFF, FlyRodGod, and Allen Fly Fishing. My new blog will be rolling soon. Tight Lines!
-FishPanix aka The Bird Nerd aka A. Princeton Mota
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