For several years I resisted the suggestions of others to put down on paper some of my experiences and observations on fly fishing these mountain streams. Not the least was some reluctance to "spread the word" about this unique fishery.  Now that I am nearing 70 years of age I think it's time to get this job done!

      Many local folk have felt the county is growing fast enough - why encourage the crowd! For many years I had been able to explain to fellow fly fishermen that the nearest MacDonalds was 45 miles away. Alas, we now have one on Main Street! With this growth we can only hope that only responsible anglers and homesteaders will come.

      "Fly Fishing Potter County" is a work in progress and may or may not "turn out" OK. I don't consider myself an expert fly fisher...I've found that a lot of humility goes a long way...and the best approach to the stream is with the mind of a beginner. Each excursion, then, opens up to new discoveries, new beginnings. In short, when fly fishing stops being "fun," then I'll quit. But I don't think that will be any time soon.

      I grew up on the banks of the Allegheny River in the county seat, Coudersport, just a few yards downstream from the late Jim Bashline's fabled Goodsell Hole. Jim was a frequent visitor to my home. My mother and father were school teachers. My dad taught "Ag" for 44 years. Some of the success I've had fishing Potter County streams derives from this fact. During the summer, my father visited his students to check on their "projects." I often accompanied him on these trips.

      Last summer, I was accosted by an angry old landowner for "fishing on his property." No "Posted" signs were visible, so I asked him why. "I'm trying to set this section of the stream aside for the kids," he replied. (I completely sidestepped the issue of legality on this one!). After reassuring him that by releasing what I caught I wasn't going to harm his project, we finally got around to names. When I gave him mine, he responded "Not Prof Dewey"s kid." I nodded. "Hell, I remember you when you were no bigger than (deleted)." It turns out that Mr. Angry was a former student of my dad. Needless to say, I was invited to fish anytime I wanted, and Mr. Angry would even take me to his private pond.

      Growing up on a river may very well be the best way to grow up. Sure, it almost drowned me a couple of times, but overall,you couldn't ask for a better place to poke around on lazy summer days. And the chance to observe some very good, very diligent fishermen probably has paid off in some subliminal way.

      For the Allegheny through town was good fishing. Shaded by huge old willow trees, lumbering from pool to pool, never in a rush, it created its own habitat of undercuts, boulder lined banks, root systems and tailouts. Some will even go so far as to say that because we did not yet have a sewage disposal system completely isolated from the river, that the nutrients supplied by the town residents in the form of raw sewage contributed greatly to the multitudinous swarm of life in the stream - including lunker browns all out of proportion to the natural laws of distribution. But, oh, the smell of it on a hot summer's day!

      At the Main Street bridge stood the Austin Meat Market. Evenings, at closing, the Austin brothers would gather the meat scraps from the day and toss them into the river, always in the presence of several onlookers. The stream boiled from the dozens of large browns ready to pounce on the morsels. This bridge was laid over a steel girder framework accessible from below. As kids we would lash metal telescoping rods to our belts, swing ourselves hand-over-hand through the girders to a position above the pod of waiting trout and, using the crumpled up red center from a pack of Lucky Strikes, attempt to tie into one of the monsters. Needless to say, the results were not town news! But, nearly every household in those days accumulated a snapshot or two of a lucky kid hoisting a prize brown.

      And so it went...through the really bad flood of '42 and the other four that followed before I could get out of school. In my final year of high school it was decided to accept the federal government's offer to construct a flood control channel through town. Designed to handle the "100 year worst case" situation, it was nearly complete by the time I graduated. At the time I lacked the perspective with which I might today view such an enterprise - it, in fact became the source of my first payroll job! And during it all, Jim Bashline, who opposed it vehemently, was overseas helping to fight the Korean War.

      Ridlon's Hardware was the place to buy a rod and flies. I remember saving my lawn mowing money week after week to buy my first rod - a wonderful little 7 foot bamboo. What a joy not to have to borrow a rod! I can't remember the make, but I do recall that it was $12.95! Soon spinning rods would show up, and glass fly rods. I recently cut down my old 1954 8 foot Shakespeare glass for a first rod for my niece's daughter. The little bamboo? Sad to say...stumble-footed youngsters shouldn't carry bamboo. It wound up as kindling.

      In those days there were no "fly shops" as such. Getting fly tying materials was difficult. Road kill was more than a joke; it was almost a necessity. As soon as I was old enough to drive, I could visit "Prof." Smith, principal of the Roulette school who was an accomplished tyer and patient teacher. He taught many youngsters the art of the tying vise.

      It was also difficult to learn fly fishing in the face of so much interest in the new spinning rod craze. It's hard to imagine today how many dedicated fly fishermen abandoned their bamboo for a glass Shakespeare. As a result a lot of useful information simply wasn't passed on to the younger fishermen.

      But while the technology of fly fishing has changed vastly for the better, the streams, the hatches and the trout remain as they always have been. There are no simple short cuts to learning these aspects of the sport. Patient observation, reading and discussions with other fishermen are still the best ways to improve your enjoyment of the sport.

Bibliography

Bashline, Jim, Night Fishing for Trout (Rev. Ed.), Willow Creek Press, Wautoma, WI (1987)

Bashline, L. James, The Allegheny Angler, T. C. Specialties Co., Coudersport, PA (1963)

Dillon, Chuck, Pennsylvania's Grand Canyon, a natural and human history, Pine Creek Press, Wellsboro, PA (1991)

Humphreys, Joe, Trout Tactics, Stackpole Books,  Harrisburg, PA (1990)

Landis, Dwight, Trout Streams of Pennsylvania, Hemstead-Lyndell, Bellefonte, PA (1991)

Meck, Charles R., Pennsylvania Trout Streams and Their Hatches (2nd Ed.),  Backcountry Publications, Woodstock, VT (1993)

Schafer, Jim and Sajina, Mike, The Allegheny River, The Pennsylvania State University Press, University Park, PA (1992)

Van Diver, Bradford B., Roadside Geology of Pennsylvania, Mountain Press Publishing Co., Missoula, Montana (1990)

Photographs and Graphical Images