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My sons Austin, 8, and Andrew, 6, and I enjoyed a wonderful day fishing Dry Run Creek on Friday. The weather was probably a little hotter than the action on the stream, but what the boys lacked in numbers of fish caught, they made up for in inches per landed fish.

John met us at our campsite at the Dam Quarry campground at 7:30, and we loaded up and took the "long" drive over to Dry Run. Austin was rigged up and fishing by about 8:10.


By 8:15, he had landed his first fish, a very small rainbow of about 4-6 inches. While he was "fighting" this fish, John got Andrew rigged up, and he was on the water just a few minutes later. A few minutes after that, Austin hooked his first "Walter".

John calmly gave instructions to Austin as he struggled to keep hold of his rod, which was bent nearly double at times. Alternately cranking as fast as he could and then watching line scream off the reel, Austin had a smile on his face the whole time. After about 10 minutes, he brought the fish to the net. We all gathered around to admire the fish and the fisherman, snap a few photos and release him to fight again. He measured a full 24 inches and was taken on a brown Wotton Worm.



Austin continued to have a good deal of success throughout the day. He took instructions quite well from John and showed patience to work a section of stream thoroughly before moving up or downstream in pursuit of other fish. This fish was his longest of the day, but there was another fish to come later which put on an even greater show...

While Austin was basking in the glow of his monster, Andrew was busy working to learn the ways of the wily trout. He had much less success in terms of numbers of fish landed than Austin had, but he managed two trophies out of the three landed. His first fish came after several missed takes, after which John suggested switching to a hopper pattern. It wasn't long until the strategy worked, and Andrew was fighting his first fish of the day. Just like his big brother, he followed John's instructions to the letter, and after a brief fight he landed this 17" bow. Notice the hopper pattern hanging from the fish's lip!



Now Andrew has always been my reluctant fisherman. He goes along with us but more often than not will also be the first one to say he's ready to call it a day. Unbeknownst to me, he had told Austin at camp that morning that he didn't want to fly fish, he wanted to spin fish. But after he landed his first fish on a dry fly, he looked at me with a huge smile on his face and enthusiastically pronounced that he "loved" fly fishing!

The rest of the morning progressed with some faster periods and some slower periods, but just before lunch, Andrew's hopper pattern struck again. This time, I was quite a bit upstream working with Austin when I heard John shouting. I looked down and saw Andrew in full fight, with his rod bent double and John waving his arms at me. I nearly came out of my waders as I tore down the bank, scooping up John's long handled net on the way. John was nearly breathless when I got to Andrew's side, and his eyes were as big as saucers as he gently coached Andrew. This fight took a bit longer, but after a few runs and retrieves, Andrew brought this beautiful 22" rainbow to the net. The "awe shucks" look on his face hides the real enthusiasm he had when we were all slapping him on the back.



Not to be outdone by his younger brother, Austin went back to his go-to Wotton Worm after lunch. As instructed, he worked a deep feeding lane by casting into the white water and letting the worm drift down stream. Eventually the call went out again, and this time I looked to see Austin's rod back with a fish in flight at the end of his line! Try as I might, I couldn't get a photo, despite the fact that it must have jumped 5-6 times. This fight seemed to take forever, but probably only lasted 10-15 minutes. Everytime the fish jumped, I held my breath, hoping not to see the line spring back toward Austin and the rod tip go straight. Eventually Austin guided the fish into the net, and it measured 21" with a 16" girth. I think the look on the guide and fisherman's faces tells the rest of the story.



Eventually, the heat and the work of fishing took its toll, and John and I had to call it quits before one of us melted into our waders. Both boys were really proud of their efforts and were asking when they could come back to fish Dry Run before we'd even left the stream. Without John's help there's no way the boys would have had as much fun, and I know for certain that they will remember this camping and fishing trip for years to come.



Thanks, John, for a memorable day, and for helping introduce a couple more boys to the joys of fly fishing!