Trout Season Slam: 10 Big Catches with My Daughter on Opening Day
A Trout Season Opener for the Books: 10 Big Catches with My Daughter
Opening day of trout season in Pennsylvania is like Christmas for anglers—rods rigged, coffee brewing, and that crisp April air buzzing with possibility. This year, though, it wasn’t just about the fish. It was about hitting the stream with my daughter, sharing the rush of the first cast, and—spoiler alert—landing 10 trout, every single one a keeper over the state’s 7-inch legal size limit. Here’s how our day went down, from dawn to dusk, with a creel full of memories.
The Game Plan
We rolled up to our favorite creek in [insert your region, e.g., "the Pocono foothills"] just as the sky was turning pink. The state had stocked it heavy—rainbows and browns mostly—and the water was running clear, about 50 degrees, perfect for waking those trout up. My daughter, all of 10 years old and already a rod-slinging pro, had her ultralight rig ready: 4-pound test, a size 8 hook, and a little split shot. Me? I stuck with my trusty spinning setup and some nightcrawlers. We decided to split the duties—she’d try spinners first, I’d go with live bait—and see what clicked.
The First Hits
It didn’t take long. Her second cast with a small gold spinner got smashed—line peeled, rod bent, and up came a chunky 12-inch rainbow, its sides flashing like a disco ball. She whooped loud enough to wake the fish downstream, and I couldn’t stop grinning. My turn came five minutes later—a 10-inch brown slurped my worm under a riffle, fat and feisty. We were off to the races, and the legal limit (7 inches in PA) wasn’t even a question—these trout were all bruisers.
Piling Up the Count
By 9 a.m., we’d notched four keepers: two rainbows for her (12 and 11 inches), two browns for me (10 and 13 inches). We moved downstream to a deeper pool where the current slowed, and that’s when it got wild. She switched to a minnow plug, and I stuck with worms. Boom—three casts, three fish. Hers were a pair of rainbows at 14 and 11 inches, mine a 12-inch brown that fought like it owned the creek. Seven down, all over that 7-inch mark, and her grin was bigger than the fish.
The Final Push
Lunch was PB&J by the bank, with trout flipping in the creel beside us. Afternoon brought a breeze, but the bite stayed hot. We hit a shady bend with overhanging branches—trout heaven. I landed a 15-inch rainbow, the day’s biggest, on a slow-dragged worm. She capped us off with two more: a 12-inch brown on a spinner and a 10-inch rainbow on a worm she stole from my stash. Ten fish, all legal and then some, ranging from 10 to 15 inches. Pennsylvania’s regs say five per person, so we were right at our limit—couldn’t ask for more.
Why It Mattered
Sure, the haul was epic—10 trout, every one a solid keeper, no dinks in sight. We cleaned ‘em up that night, fried some with butter and lemon, and froze the rest for a future feast. But the real catch? Watching my daughter outfish me half the time, her hands steady on the rod, her laugh echoing over the water. Opening day’s always been about the chase, but this year, it was about us—father and daughter, knee-deep in the stream, making a story we’ll tell for years.
So here’s to trout season, big fish, and bigger moments. If you’re hitting the water soon, rig up, keep it simple, and bring someone you love along. You might just end up with a creel full of keepers—and a memory that outshines ‘em all.
Tight lines,
No Dink Fishing