Pennsylvania’s streams are a-callin’
The first night hatch my wife and I fished on Oil Creek was a heavy sulphur. It nearly snowed mayflies as the sun hid behind the Venango County hills that May, and trout slurped spinners for a good hour before the sky grew so dark that we left the water for fear of stumbling over its rugged freestone bottom. The pops of trout feeding didn’t end with the light.
If we’d gone by name value alone, Oil Creek wouldn’t have been our first choice for dry fly fishing. The creek’s name doesn’t sing, doesn’t inspire. The history of the oil industry runs through the Oil Creek Valley, and at one time the oil itself ran dark through the creek, whose muddy hills were ringed with derricks and stripped of trees during the oil boom.
No more. It’s rustic and natural and welcoming, and feels not a little like home by this time.
Thankfully we didn’t bother with the name that first day. We went hunting for trout water near Erie, and found a state park that gives us as much as satisfaction in all its resources and beauty as any national park we’ve visited. It’s wonderful for us, and for the other few park lovers, that so few outsiders know the place exists. Shame, though, for those who skip it.
Names have that power over us — to repel, and attract. I got over it thanks to Oil Creek. But every time I explore a Pennsylvania map I find another creek with a come-hither name.
Blue Eye Run.
Cool Spring Creek.
Fishing Creek.
Honey Creek.
Merrybrook Run.
Paradise Creek.
Pleasant Creek.
Sugar Run.
If there are trout in those waters, so much the better. That the names touch the lips like candy is enough.
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