In an attempt to get yer minds off bathing suits, here's a report of the
five days spent in Penns Woods with a bunch of malcontents that were THANK
GOD always fully clothed.

I've lost track of what happened on which days, so I'll just zap off some
highlights:

Fishing was tough all five days. Those wily browns of Penns are exceptional
in their disregard for our happiness. Everyone caught fish, some more than
others, and, as far as I can tell, no one really had a banner day. On
Sunday Waldo gave us all a tale of catching a whopper below the Carolina
cabin, but, oddly enough, no witnesses were there. That said, just about
all of us switched to big black streamers (the fly on which Waldo said he
caught Moby.)

It was good to see familiar faces again- breakfast at the Sunrise on Sunday
included Mike Shaw, Frank Reid, Tom Littleton, Dave LaCourse, Jeff Miller
and Indian Joe. As we left, the Smallmouth Float group was getting ready to
head off, including Tom Gibson, John Baker, Wolfgang, DavePA, Jeff and IJ.

Headed for the Carolina Cabin where Tom and I met a Swede and the Finn (Mike
Makela) coming up the road from the creek. Roger Ohlund is just about the
nicest man imaginable, and one *hell* of a fisherman. I just wish he and I
didn't look so much like me, people kept confusing the two of us. (Just
kidding. Roger doubles for Odin at about seven feet tall, muscle on muscle,
and replete with Nordic blonde/blue eyes. Word has it he's the runt of the
litter too. We all hate him :-) Watching Roger cast a fly line is like
watching Yo Yo Ma play the cello. Damn could that boy send out some line!
I'm trying to decide which kidney to sell so I can attend the Swedish Clave.

Had the good pleasure of sharing the water with most of those at the clave.
Sunday afternoon was an exercise in futility near Cherry Run. Frank, Tom,
Handyman, Roger, Makela and I casted for a while trying to get the fish to
cooperate, but most of the day was spent lounging on the bank swapping
tales. Makela, as usual, fished hard, and was doubtless rewarded for his
effort. I got a small smallmouth while stripping in my fly. On the way up
to the Carolina cabin for beer, er, supplies, I fished my way up Cherry run
and caught several small native brookies. Gorgeous fish.

On Monday Wolfgang, John Baker, Tim Carter and I all headed up to Big
Fishing Creek to fish a small tributary, also named Cherry run (I don't know
who was in charge of naming rivers in PA, but they needed a bit more
creativity...) It is a gorgeous piece of brook trout water, but again the
fishing was tough. Burgers and beer at the Milheim after made up for it.

Evening hatches were the bomb. Saturday was tough because there were gobs
of bugs coming off, but also gobs of lightning. Not many of us tempted
fate. In particular, we kept Frank well away from the rods :-) I wish we'd
had a video camera though. In an attempt to snare a few of the spinners, we
used our caps as bug nets. Wolfgang in particular made quite the visual
spectacle, what with his ballet, er, wading tights and particularly graceful
leaps to capture the gigantic march browns. Bruce Fisher took macro photos
of most of the insect life (not including Wolfgang), and I hope those photos
appear somewhere on the web. Fabulous bugs!

Sunday night the spinner fall happened like clockwork. Many of us
positioned ourselves along the creek near Three Streamer Stan's in
anticipation of the event. Long about dark, say, 8:15 or so, fish began
rising to spinners. There were sulphers, march browns, and caddis all on
the water at once. In the last of the day's light, the surface of the water
was carpeted with bugs. I think all of us got at least one fish that
evening. Frank landed a nice 16" brown in absolute darkness.

Monday and Tuesday nights both had rain, but after the fishing was over.
Tuesday morning dawned dry with the creek in good shape, yesterday it was
still pouring at 8:30 when I packed up my tent and headed west.

Raffle night was a blast, as usual. I was on KP duty with Frank and the two
of us got the stew cooked and ready for the arrival of the group after the
evening's hatch, right around 9. Joel did his usual excellent job as Raffle
meister. One evening as we sat around Clave Central, we got to talking
about ROFF persona versus reality. I've decided that Joel is the epitome of
being NOTHING like his ROFF persona. Here on ROFF, you get maybe a sentence
or two at a time from the man. In person, you can't get the guy to shut up!
And I mean that in the best possible way, Joel. :-)

I've got no pictures to share. Had the camera with me and it stayed in its
bag the whole time. Doubtless others will delight with pictures of the
happy crew.

Thanks to Tom Littleton, Mike Shaw, Mike Makela and the other "locals" for
putting the clave together and being exceptionally gracious hosts. It was a
fabulous time, as always!

Cheers!
Bill