A Year of Trout on the Fly
Story and photos by Evan Buck
I’m sitting here at my desk tying flies to fill my boxes for the coming spring while I watch the trout stream in front of my house ice over. I am no stranger to fishing in the winter when the temperatures are reasonable, but it has been such a brutal winter here in northcentral PA that I haven’t been out much. With the creeks iced up and nothing left in season to hunt, I do what any outdoorsman does this time of year: My guns have been cleaned, my knives sharpened, and my fly boxes are full. The only thing left to do now is to wait for the ice on the creeks to melt, but while I wait, I can reminisce about how great this past year of trout fishing was.
Spring
This past spring was truly incredible. I witnessed one of the best Hendrickson mayfly hatches I’ve ever seen and even discovered a new piece of hard-to-get-to water on my local trout stream that my dad and I dubbed, “The Piggy Flat.” This stretch of water and other nearby sections produced several decent brown trout and even a 20-incher. I caught a few nice browns in the 16-to-18-inch range out of here on nymphs in mid-April.
One afternoon in late April 2025, my wife, Anna, decided to tag along with me to the stream, and I figured that we would go to The Piggy Flat with all the success I have been having there. She certainly loves catching trout, but she’ll tell you that she doesn’t quite have the same fishing addiction that I do. The outing started a bit slow; I picked up a few wild browns but nothing huge. As we fished our way upstream, we came to an inconspicuous-looking flat that had a small riffle at the top. I usually didn’t give this flat much thought, as it is featureless and doesn’t have much structure for the fish to relate to. This time, however, I noticed a slight change in depth right in the middle of the flat that created the perfect little bucket for a fish to sit in. It was one of those sneaky little pieces of cover that you just know would hold a good one.
I pointed it out to Anna, and she cast her fly, a Walt’s worm, into the head of the riffle and set the hook after feeling a light strike. At first there wasn’t much resistance, but the fish began thrashing and peeling line. After a lengthy battle, we landed a solid 20-inch wild brown, which turned out to be her best fish of the year! This was a valuable lesson to revisit water that I often overlook.
As we progressed into late spring, nonstop rain caused the creeks to be blown out and unwadable. High water in mind, my buddies and I took to our rafts and put on a few floats. This year was unique because while the green drakes were hatching, the 17-year cicadas also emerged and made for some epic and potentially once-in-a-lifetime outings.
On the first of June, my buddy and I hopped in his raft to float a 12-mile stretch of a particularly scenic creek. I swear that we couldn’t keep fish off the line. It seemed like there was a fish behind every rock. After hammering fish all morning, we started goofing off and throwing the biggest stonefly nymphs that we could find in our boxes, and the trout still took them. As we continued floating downstream, the subsurface action died down. After a short lull in the action, we were greeted with a blanket hatch of green drakes, and many fish willing to eat them. By the end of that day, we had to have caught at least 50 trout combined.
Summer
Spring came to an end, the high water receded, and we were left with an exceptionally hot and dry summer. My wife and I took to the ridges and deep valleys of the PA Wilds to escape the heat. Most of the summer was spent camping and chasing native brook trout and wild brown trout in small blue line streams. These blue liners may be small, but the water stays cold throughout the entire summer. The trout in these streams aren’t huge, but they are some of the prettiest fish you’ll catch.
By August, we were over the heat, but we still fished and explored. On a particularly hot afternoon, we decided to try a local but remote brookie stream that we’ve never fished. We picked apart the best-looking holes for about a mile, and it seemed like the stream was devoid of life. After we waited out a short rain shower, it felt like a switch was flipped. We were picking off fish after fish on our dry-dropper rigs. The colors on the brook and brown trout made the hike worth it.
Fall
Eventually the heat subsided and fall arrived. This time of year, I am in grouse-hunting mode, and the season was a great learning experience for my dog. Birds aside, I still found time to fish. Perhaps I would have been a bit more eager to fish if we ever got rain!
I ended up catching my best fish of the year this past fall. A buddy of mine was able to take leave from the military and came to visit me in October. One afternoon, we went fishing up the road from my house for a few hours. The water was so low and clear that we had to use 6x tippet and fish small dry-dropper rigs to avoid spooking the fish. It was a dreadfully slow day; we kept working our way upstream without so much as a bite. I came to a run that had a low-hanging tree over it, and beneath the tree the creek's bottom changed from clear to a chalky green, a telltale sign of depth change.
I cast my flies under the tree, and they ever so subtly twitched. I set the hook and saw a huge brown trout roll. The fish peeled downstream into a fast run, and I had to chase after it to avoid breaking it off. After taking a tumble and getting wet, I caught up to the fish, which then ran me into some big weed beds. I was yelling for my buddy to run up to me to help me net the fish while I wrestled it out of the weeds. I was shocked that the fish didn’t break me off. Eventually, my buddy made it and we netted the fish. We decided to end on that one since it was the only fish of the day, and we knew it wouldn’t get any better than that.
Conclusion
This past year was one of the best years of trout fishing that I’ve ever had, and I feel so fortunate to have been able to share these good times with my friends and family. Winter will soon come to an end, and more good times will be had. While I wait, I have half a mind to just tough out the cold, find a stretch of open water that isn’t iced up, and go fishing.
I’m sitting here at my desk tying flies to fill my boxes for the coming spring while I watch the trout stream in front of my house ice over. I am no stranger to fishing in the winter when the temperatures are reasonable, but it has been such a brutal winter here in northcentral PA that I haven’t been out much. With the creeks iced up and nothing left in season to hunt, I do what any outdoorsman does this time of year: My guns have been cleaned, my knives sharpened, and my fly boxes are full. The only thing left to do now is to wait for the ice on the creeks to melt, but while I wait, I can reminisce about how great this past year of trout fishing was.
Spring
This past spring was truly incredible. I witnessed one of the best Hendrickson mayfly hatches I’ve ever seen and even discovered a new piece of hard-to-get-to water on my local trout stream that my dad and I dubbed, “The Piggy Flat.” This stretch of water and other nearby sections produced several decent brown trout and even a 20-incher. I caught a few nice browns in the 16-to-18-inch range out of here on nymphs in mid-April.
One afternoon in late April 2025, my wife, Anna, decided to tag along with me to the stream, and I figured that we would go to The Piggy Flat with all the success I have been having there. She certainly loves catching trout, but she’ll tell you that she doesn’t quite have the same fishing addiction that I do. The outing started a bit slow; I picked up a few wild browns but nothing huge. As we fished our way upstream, we came to an inconspicuous-looking flat that had a small riffle at the top. I usually didn’t give this flat much thought, as it is featureless and doesn’t have much structure for the fish to relate to. This time, however, I noticed a slight change in depth right in the middle of the flat that created the perfect little bucket for a fish to sit in. It was one of those sneaky little pieces of cover that you just know would hold a good one.
I pointed it out to Anna, and she cast her fly, a Walt’s worm, into the head of the riffle and set the hook after feeling a light strike. At first there wasn’t much resistance, but the fish began thrashing and peeling line. After a lengthy battle, we landed a solid 20-inch wild brown, which turned out to be her best fish of the year! This was a valuable lesson to revisit water that I often overlook.
As we progressed into late spring, nonstop rain caused the creeks to be blown out and unwadable. High water in mind, my buddies and I took to our rafts and put on a few floats. This year was unique because while the green drakes were hatching, the 17-year cicadas also emerged and made for some epic and potentially once-in-a-lifetime outings.
On the first of June, my buddy and I hopped in his raft to float a 12-mile stretch of a particularly scenic creek. I swear that we couldn’t keep fish off the line. It seemed like there was a fish behind every rock. After hammering fish all morning, we started goofing off and throwing the biggest stonefly nymphs that we could find in our boxes, and the trout still took them. As we continued floating downstream, the subsurface action died down. After a short lull in the action, we were greeted with a blanket hatch of green drakes, and many fish willing to eat them. By the end of that day, we had to have caught at least 50 trout combined.
Summer
Spring came to an end, the high water receded, and we were left with an exceptionally hot and dry summer. My wife and I took to the ridges and deep valleys of the PA Wilds to escape the heat. Most of the summer was spent camping and chasing native brook trout and wild brown trout in small blue line streams. These blue liners may be small, but the water stays cold throughout the entire summer. The trout in these streams aren’t huge, but they are some of the prettiest fish you’ll catch.
By August, we were over the heat, but we still fished and explored. On a particularly hot afternoon, we decided to try a local but remote brookie stream that we’ve never fished. We picked apart the best-looking holes for about a mile, and it seemed like the stream was devoid of life. After we waited out a short rain shower, it felt like a switch was flipped. We were picking off fish after fish on our dry-dropper rigs. The colors on the brook and brown trout made the hike worth it.
Fall
Eventually the heat subsided and fall arrived. This time of year, I am in grouse-hunting mode, and the season was a great learning experience for my dog. Birds aside, I still found time to fish. Perhaps I would have been a bit more eager to fish if we ever got rain!
I ended up catching my best fish of the year this past fall. A buddy of mine was able to take leave from the military and came to visit me in October. One afternoon, we went fishing up the road from my house for a few hours. The water was so low and clear that we had to use 6x tippet and fish small dry-dropper rigs to avoid spooking the fish. It was a dreadfully slow day; we kept working our way upstream without so much as a bite. I came to a run that had a low-hanging tree over it, and beneath the tree the creek's bottom changed from clear to a chalky green, a telltale sign of depth change.
I cast my flies under the tree, and they ever so subtly twitched. I set the hook and saw a huge brown trout roll. The fish peeled downstream into a fast run, and I had to chase after it to avoid breaking it off. After taking a tumble and getting wet, I caught up to the fish, which then ran me into some big weed beds. I was yelling for my buddy to run up to me to help me net the fish while I wrestled it out of the weeds. I was shocked that the fish didn’t break me off. Eventually, my buddy made it and we netted the fish. We decided to end on that one since it was the only fish of the day, and we knew it wouldn’t get any better than that.
Conclusion
This past year was one of the best years of trout fishing that I’ve ever had, and I feel so fortunate to have been able to share these good times with my friends and family. Winter will soon come to an end, and more good times will be had. While I wait, I have half a mind to just tough out the cold, find a stretch of open water that isn’t iced up, and go fishing.
