It is not quite the half daylight of morning yet...


The night sky is grudgingly giving way to a cold steel light that will eventually turn into a new day. The only sounds are your footsteps on the soft pungent ground and the murmurs of the stream off to your left or right that is just now becoming visible. When you first speak it feels like you have violated some sacred facet of nature. The discussion almost always drifts to one of tactics and strategy for the day that will soon be upon us. The anticipation has been building since you left the car but is now gaining momentum.

The night sky turns to a half-light that illuminates the ridgeline above the stream. Maybe a deer or two will be silhouetted moving down the ridge, or maybe they won’t be, but the forest is starting to come alive. The small and not so small animals are starting to rustle in leaves and brush on the ground. Day has not quite conquered the night yet, but the feat is close at hand.

As you step into the water that magical half-light of the awaking morning spreads over the water. The Mid Atlantic morning humidity hangs like a cloud just over the cooler water. Together they paint an imagery out the best dime store (dollar store nowadays) ghost novel. The fog from the cloud on the water rises well into the trees. Quiet is still in control and the sense of serenity is overwhelming. The water feels cool through your waders as the current presses against your legs. Off in the fog there is a solidarity plot of a trout breaking water... maybe for the first time this glorious morning. You can’t see it yet, but just the sound raises the anticipation level several notches.

On the far bank a Night Crested Heron stand motionlessly, but sees everything. In the fog of morning it looks like a specter from the prehistoric pass. A mink scurries across the stream. Its path through the water appears to be aimless, but it’s not. Both animals are here for the same thing that we have come for. We are all here for the trout in the water.

For the mink and the heron it is the serious matter of survival. For us it is a communication with our inner self. It is an opportunity to renew our spirits and add a little balance to a hectic life. This is a chance to get a few wind knots out of the leader of life, so to speak. Whether we catch one or many trout today really matters not. We have already captured much of what we came for.

Let’s beam ourselves 450 to 500 miles to the north. In the High Peaks Region of the Adirondacks night does not gradually give way to day. The sun erupts over the 4000 and 5000 foot mountains.

The night sky, which was so full of stars you couldn’t count all them, turns a radiant blue in seconds. What little humidity there is steams off the water in little spirals of mist within an hour or so. The majestic Adirondack Mountains stand exposed in their lush forest green and scared granite cliffs.

The streams rush through their banks. There is no murmuring here. The streams can be heard many hundreds of yard away. The force of current can be truly awesome in places, but they have gentler stretches as well. In the slower stretches of the streams the bank beaver slowly navigate the shoreline in search of alder branches for their next meal. After the tender bark has been eaten the rest will be used to build the mud hut on the bank. If you have encroached too close to their territory, they will circle slapping their tails on the water. In the spring a chorus of mating male partridges can be heard drumming for a mate off in the distance. The mink and the heron are here too. They are a welcomed sight and are a part of the brotherhood. After all, these predators were the first fishermen. They signal to observant fisherman the fishery is healthy.

The trout are big and strong in these fast streams and a fight in the faster water will challenge even the most seasoned angler. The tactics and the strategies on the freestone streams of the Adirondacks vary greatly from the limestone streams of South Central Pennsylvania. The quarry and the objective remains the same however. At TroutGetter Flies and Guide Service our objective is to provide you with the highest quality trout fishing in diverse locations on the east coast.

Maybe your taste in flyfishing runs toward heavier rods and bigger flies for a different game fish, or maybe you are just looking for a different menu to try. We offer both guided wade and boat trips for smallmouth bass on the Susquehanna River. The Susquehanna River is the premier smallmouth bass fishery on the east coast. We live within miles of the river in the center of the Big Bass stretch of the river. This 70 mile stretch of high quality smallmouth habitat is the pride of the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission.

During the dog days of summer in July and August the trout become picky and the fishing slows down, the bass fishing, however, is just starting to heat up. A smallmouth bass will smash a 6 inch streamer or sip a number 12 dry fly with equal intensity. Once hooked, the smallmouth, ounce for ounce and pound for pound, is the hardest fighter of all the freshwater game fish. If you have not experienced this fish on a fly rod, you owe it to yourself to hook up with him in the near future. Join us soon and gather your own "reflections of your day on the river"!