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Haunted by Waters

with: Jamie Spencer
   
 

Lycoming County provides us with several great fishing opportunities. It doesn’t matter if you throw bugs, chuck metal or use live bait — this area is blessed with many different types of water to target all kinds of species. Fishing has always been my passion and my lovely bride would say that I am somewhat obsessed. OK, I am. I would fish every single day if I could. "But. You already do." Valid point Teach.
I take full advantage of what northcentral PA has to offer. I usually head out after dinner or when my chores are complete. Some of my favorite holes are just a short drive or walk from the house on Lycoming Creek. I rarely stay in the same spot and cross the stream whenever I can. I am always on the move and the world would be a better place if more folks followed my lead. Some like to jog or head to the gym, but I prefer to wade in my nearby stream to keep trim.
I own two fly rods but seldom use them. OK, I admit it — I stink at it. I have neither the patience nor the touch that is required. So I chuck metal instead — that’s what my purist chums call it. My goal is to catch and release as many fish as I can. My plain-front, ORVIS wearing, bug-throwing friends think less of me for using the trebles.
My fishing adventures are somewhat a personal thing. I actually prefer to go alone. Several of my mates often extend an invite, but I tend to respectfully say no. It's an individual thing. Jensen is my favorite fishing companion and he is my only exception that can tag along at anytime. But extreme wading with dad has been replaced by lots of baseball and Nerf gun wars. It's cool. I totally understand and hopefully this is just a phase. Until then — I am solo.
It finally occurred to me that the main reason why I venture downstream is not necessarily to fish, but to commune. I will soon turn 40 and by no means do I have this figured out. But as I approach that special place where the creek gradually slows — I have no worries. I find myself in a spiritual trance listening to the continuous rhythm of the water trickling over the rocks.
I look up to a brilliant sky untainted by man and his inventions. My backyard surroundings are breathtaking. It is here that I truly feel my individualism, self-awareness and self-assurance. The water gives a brief freedom from the pressures of work, money and competition. It is my escape.
If I am not wading in a crick, I am in my kayak casting against the bank in the 570 somewhere. I don't need to travel far and I prefer to stay local. You might find me in the hood on Lycoming or the Sock. Perhaps you will see me driving around town with a canoe on my SUV. I like to commune. Enjoy the weekend sports fans. Cheers.