Spring activities in Pennsylvania outdoors losing out to winter’s stronghold
The stream in the accompanying photo is a well-known trout destination that runs through woods, fields, farmlands and old-time settings. Luckily, it is located near my home.
But as beautiful and welcoming as it does appear now, it may well provide a difficult experience for trout anglers hoping to rid themselves of winter’s doldrums when the season opens in these parts March 31.
A snowstorm this past Wednesday brought a foot of piled moisture, laying a blanket of wet whiteness over ground and trees that have been ready to push buds and stems in the rite of spring.
With daytime temperatures reaching the 40s, the snow will melt. But with nighttime air dropping into the 20s, it will take awhile. Stream water will be cold, and running a bit high with the run-off. But unless we get some rain storms between now and the opening day, it should at least be clear. How well it fishes is anyone’s guess.
I’ve seen plenty of March snowstorms in my lifetime, enough of them that getting whacked with one toward late in the month is not really a huge rarity. But as one grows older, I suppose – at least in my case – there is also a sped-up urge to see a new season unfold, and the present one “get out of town” as quickly as possible. It’s something like, “Okay, winter, enough of you.”
I’m eager to walk a trout stream myself, see a bent rod tip, and feel the pull of a trout on the end of my line.
I am also a bit eager to start doing some scouting for wild turkeys, looking for sign in spots where they may be spending considerable time. I wouldn’t mind running into a few also, hoping to take some photos of a strutting tom or three. To this point, I haven’t seen one anywhere. This recent snowstorm isn’t going to rush them into any kind of urge that they’ll feel when the weather warms, either — when girl-guy activities fill their heads.
Call it an old guy’s cranky and complaining state of mind, but I don’t need another flake of snow until rifle deer season comes after Thanksgiving, and I do not relish the thought of breaking ice from the eyes of my fly-rod and wearing gloves to fish.
So let the sun shine, and warm my old butt, and make me happy.