Luyen’s Reel-Time FLog

July Fourth Weekend, 2003 — Fished the Monocacy for a few stolen hours Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. After a long spring, summer had kicked in with a vengeance — the temperature was in the 90’s all three days, and the humidity was verging on unbearable. With both kiddies waking up at dawn’s early light, I decided to fish the nearby spots, rather than push my luck by making the trip to the Little Lehigh, or prospecting along lesser-known stretches of the Mo. So Berry’s Bridge it was. The water was high, but not extraordinarily so; and it was clearer than I anticipated. The first pool failed to produce a single rise. I worked it for twenty minutes on Friday with a Yellow Humpy trailed by a bead-head nymph. As I left the pool, I seined the stream for clues, and the net yielded a smattering of olive scuds, but little else of interest. I headed to the second pool and fished a big Elk Hair Caddis with another nymph dropper. Only when I switched to a Lil’ Evie did I manage to yank out my first trout of the weekend — a small, six-inch brownie. I lost one good fish, and pulled out two more before the fishing got tough. All fell for the dropper. Afterwards, I hurried down to the falls across Center Street on the far side of the pull-off. I knew I was pushing my luck at this point, but I was in desperate need of another tug. On my first cast, I pulled out another small brownie on the Lil’ Evie. After missing a large fish, I hooked and landed a feisty 16" brookie and called it quits.

The next day yielded similar results. I pulled out a nice, 12" wild brownie at the second pool (this time on a bead-head Hare’s Ear nymph), a tiny ‘bow, and another 8" brownie. The other two spots produced nothing but tangled terminal tackle and beads of sweat on the brow.

Sunday, I went out for an hour with my friend (and photographer) Ken Schles to show him the Mighty Mo’. I caught nothing at the second pool, and managed two tiny brownies at the falls. The stream is in its full summer glory — I forgot my thermometer, but it was certainly in the 60’s; and while it was not running as low as it was last August, the fish seemed to be hanging tight to the deeper, swifter-running lies.