We’ve all talked about this particular trip for years. The idea was simple enough. You put in your kayak or canoe at the Tailraces, just below the Stevenson Dam, and float and fish your way down to the cabins. This section of the First Fork was about 7.5 miles. Rt. 872 runs right along the First Fork for most of it, but there were sections that were inaccessible. No one really had an idea what to expect.
On May 4, under absolutely perfect conditions both weather and water wise, I did this trip. As my time had been extremely limited this year, I didn’t actually make it to our annual Sinnemahoning fishing trip until about noon on Saturday. I kept looking at my watch on the drive up and figured if I got in the Pungo at 1pm up at the Tailraces I could make it back down to camp by 4pm give or take. From there I would drag the kayak a quarter to a half mile in to camp from the takeout area and then hop on the Redline and ride it back up Rt. 872 to the car.
That is exactly what happened. I love it when a plan comes off perfectly, especially time wise.
When I put in at the Tailraces the place was virtually empty. I was extremely happy about this. The absolute last thing I wanted to do was launch my kayak right where a bunch of Mupears were trying to fish. The first step was lowering the kayak down the rocky bank. The one element I wasn’t sure about was regarding my footwear. I knew I would potentially be getting in and out of the kayak because of water levels and of course I had to launch it. The choice was between my Keens and Lacrosse boots. The Keens would be the preferred choice on a summertime float, but this water was cold. Without even feeling the water temperature I opted for the Keens over the 16” rubber boots. As I stepped into the water to launch the kayak I knew immediately that the choice was the right one.
The water at the Tailraces is slower and deep. There are a lot of trout swimming around in this particular section of the stream. As soon as I launched I wanted to get a line in the water. I was armed with minimal fishing equipment. I’ve learned that less is more when it comes to fishing from a kayak. I don’t know what works for other people, but I know that when I’m in my kayak I’d rather have access to a few specific items than trying to reach here and there for this and that. That being said I will take the steps to rig my kayak to hold a rod snug against the boat. The one rod holder on the dashboard is OK but when you get in close to trees this can be problematic.
I started off with a red worm and a hook and quickly realized that the best way to cover the most water was with a spinner. I drifted over some stunning “fishy” water as I switched to a gold Panther Martin inline spinner. This trip was all about cover water so the anchor was left at home. The water was deep and clear but every so often I’d bump into a rock or get turned around. The current kept me moving and I quickly came to the conclusion that fishing was going to be an afterthought. A casual float down a stream this wasn’t. I had to continually work to keep the kayak pointed downstream and I had to constantly pick a line. Some of the water was deeper and unless I wanted to be constantly getting out and dragging the boat to more water I needed to pay attention.
I swung through a portion of the stream that I’ve heard referred to as Rainbow Curve. The road runs right along the stream in a nice gentle arc. From the road it never looks terribly deep, and it isn’t. This was the first spot that I had to get out and pull the kayak to deeper water. As I stood in ankle deep water the cool rush around my feet felt exhilarating. A pair of Common Mergansers flew up the valley right at me. The sun felt fantastic. It would have been perfect had I not been filled with thoughts of having to continually get out and drag my kayak for the next 7 miles.
In my opinion one of the best things about being out in nature in the spring are the vibrant colors that seem to be everywhere. The greens are about as green and brilliant as can be. The grasses and plants reach up and stretch toward the sky. The gentle breezes push them back and forth and the yellows, pinks and reds of the blossoms dance in front of the white birch trees. On this day the sky was so blue it almost looked purple.
For the next several miles the stream meandered back and forth. At certain spots the road was closer than others. Some of the water was gorgeous and much of it was not visible or accessible from the road. It was a continuous progression of fast water, deeper water and slow water. There were many times where grassy islands presented themselves to me and I was required to pick a side. Sometimes the channel that ran closest to the hill was deeper and had better water but there were other times where the channel broke away and the best water was on the other side of the island. I took my time as I threaded my way through these islands.
It was an effort making my way down the stream. On several occasions the water and waves looked semi treacherous. I bounced my way through the canyon with the occasionally bucket of water being dumped in my lap. I’d encounter a literally perfect stretch of water, make a cast and then realize that my boat was sideways. I took a few hits off of some rocks before realizing that if I didn’t get my priorities straight (paddling, looking at wildlife, taking pictures, fishing) that I just might end up in the drink.
During one noisy stretch that was not visible from the road I noticed several kayakers about 100 yards in front of me making their way through the rapids. I went around the bend negotiating my way through the rocky chute and I saw up ahead of me a man and two small boys on the shore. There were 3 kayaks pulled up on to the grass. I spoke with them briefly. Apparently they owned one of the cabins upstream and they would simply put in and take out and then transport their boats back up. They probably floated through only a quarter mile of stream but what a nice little quarter mile to have at your fingertips.
After making my way about a third of the way down the stream I encountered the first fisherman of the day.
“Coming through,” I said as I drifted past him.
“Hey, Jim,” said Al. He was a part of the crowd I was with. I didn’t recognize him behind the hat and sunglasses. Lucky for me it was him and not one or two of the other jokesters of our crowd who afterwards claimed they would have chucked a spinner at my kayak with the intention of catching a yellow whale.
By the time I got down to the take out point I was glad to be done with my little one way excursion. I drifted under the bridge, caught a nice bit of water and went past camp. Now it was time to search for a take-out point. This was one of the unknown factors. There was a chance I’d have to circle around the island and fight a bit of current to get back up into the slack water. As it turned out I found a nice spot where I hoped to find one and pulled the boat out of the water. The self portrait of me pretending to examine something in the boat is the spot where I pulled the boat out of the First Fork.
During the paddle down-stream I saw bald eagles, an otter or muskrat of some sort, mergansers, herons, geese, mallards, a kingfisher, a million red-winged blackbirds, purple martins, an osprey, many fish (but no trout amazingly enough…The crowd I was with probably pulled out 150 trout in the preceding days) and dozens of turkey vultures.
The bike ride back up to the car was pretty uneventful. This is a pretty heavily travelled country road (as far as country roads are concerned) where guys in pick-up trucks heading to their favorite hunting and fishing spots routinely disobey speed limits. It is not ideal for bike riding, but as it was less than 8 miles and the road was pretty flat I figured I’d just pick my way back up the road.
As I hopped on my bike and left camp I told my buddy, “If I’m not back in an hour I either got lost or hit.” He proceeded to make some comment how he wasn’t going to be the one to call my wife if I got killed as he had offered multiple times to drive me up to my car.
I looked back literally every 20 seconds to make sure I was way out of the way when a car or truck would be passing. When one did appear behind me I got off the road and hugged the guiderail. If someone was going to take me out they were also going to smash their vehicle. The most eventful part of the ride was when a came up on a guy pushing a big snapping turtle out of the middle of the road. Man was that turtle pissed off!
The whole trip from the time I left camp with the kayak on the roof of the vehicle until the time I drove back in to camp with the Redline on the roof took about 5 hours. That beer I had when I got back in to camp tasted amazing.
This was far from a lazy jaunt float down a gentle river. That being said the water level in my opinion was literally perfect. If it had been much lower I’m sure I would have had to get out and pull the kayak off of rocks way more than the three times I had to do on this particular run. If the water had been any higher then I imagine it would have been much colder and much trickier to get down. In a situation like that I know I wouldn’t want to be wearing boots. I’m going to have to look into other foot-ware options. I’ve seen neoprene socks or boots in catalogues.
The one real disappointment was the camera. The initial pictures came out beautiful and I was really pleased, but some setting must have gotten changed somewhere along the way. At one point I set the camera into Panorama mode to try stitching together a few shots. It seems like every picture taken after that came out with an odd look to it. I’ll post a few to show what I mean.
The long and short of it is I’m glad I did this trip but I’m not sure if I would do it again by myself. There are other stretches of water in this part of the state that I’d like to explore. I would consider doing the trip again only this time starting out earlier in the day and really taking my time getting down to the take-out. There was some amazing water that most certainly has some beautiful fish swimming around in it. There were a few spots that you can’t access from the road where it looked like springs come in and keep the water levels decent throughout the year. I’m confident that these areas most certainly would contain holdover trout. I would want to be able to pull the kayak to shore and get out and wade. The problem you run into there is that kayaking in chest waders can be problematic. All of that being said…if you find yourself in Cameron County PA with a kayak on your roof and a bit of a plan, I would highly suggest this trip. It isn’t the most raging water, but the scenery is stunning.
