Clear cool waters slice through colossal mountains covered in brilliant shades of green. This is the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. A place that bald eagles call home, where trout gracefully glide through deep creeks, and black bears silently roam through dark forests. These landscapes are what inspired me to plan a 3 day canoe trip with my best buddy Joel Boyle down Pine Creek through the heart of the canyon. We planned to float a 30 mile stretch of Pine Creek starting at Pine Creek Outfitters (PCO) at the top of canyon down to Slate Run in the middle gorge. Located in Wellsboro, PA, Pennsylvania’s Grand Canyon is a 5 1/2 hour drive from Washington DC. We embarked on our trip to Wellsboro early on a Friday morning and arrived at PCO around 2 pm in the afternoon. Our canoe was loaded down with all our camping supplies, food, and fishing gear. Having made many float trips prior, Joel and I have pretty much mastered the art of balancing enough supplies with the max limit we can hold in the canoe. The weather report was calling for showers the majority of the weekend, but to our surprise we were welcomed by sunny skies with temperatures in the mid 60s. Our first day on the water proved to be nothing but a fly fishing lesson since neither of us have touched our fly rods since we were teenagers. After chalking up countless tangles and knotted line we reached our first camp in the middle of the canyon around 6 pm with zero fish accounted for. Neither of us seemed to mind though, we were too busy appreciating the amazing landscapes surrounding us. The canyon section of Pine Creek is flanked on both sides by enormous mountains that all but swallow the small creek which separates them. Bald eagles are said to nest in the canyon in trees close the banks of the creek but unfortunately we never spotted any during our trip. I awoke early Saturday morning to temperatures in the upper 30s, shivering in my sleeping bag. I glanced over to Joel who was cocooned in his cold weather mummy bag dead asleep and unaware of the frigid temperatures outside. I decided against prolonging my suffering so I got up and started a fire with help from the coals of the night before and fixed a pot of coffee . Joel emerged from his slumber not long after and soon enough we were suited up in our wetsuits we rented from PCO and set out for the creek. Nothing beats fishing early mornings on a quiet piece of water, except actually catching fish while fishing early mornings on a quiet piece of water. Again the trout of Pine Creek proved too elusive for either of us to catch. This remained true the rest of the day as we continued our fishlessness except for a small carp no bigger than my big toe that I caught later in the day. We did manage to run across a father/son pair who struck the jackpot catching a 25 inch palomino on nothing but wax and butter. Wax and what?! Yeah, that’s what we said. We finished the second leg of our trip (or so we thought) 20 miles from PCO, in Blackwell, ahead of schedule around 3 pm. After looking at our river maps and GPS we realized we had actually overshot the public camp area by about a quarter mile. We spent the next hour painstakingly dragging our canoe upstream being careful not to slip on the slick algae covered rocks on the creek bottom. The second night proved warmer than the first but this time we were awoken to the pitter patter of a passing shower against the roof of the tent. Luckily the rain passed on and we went out for another morning on the creek. Finally after a day and half of no fish I was able to break the dry spell by landing a small rainbow. Joel on the other hand had no such luck and to much of his frustration remained skunked the remainder of the trip. I can say that he seemed to master his casting technique and appear more fluid and graceful than myself. After a semi successful morning we got back on the creek at 10 am. At this point we realized that we still had 10 miles to cover in our trip, and had scheduled a pick up at Slate Run at noon. Needless to say even with our superior canoing skills we were unable to average the 5 miles an hour that required us to reach Slate Run on time. I attribute this to Joel’s insistence to stop at every hole on the way to avenge his shutout. We arrived at Slate Run at 1 pm, an hour behind schedule and were picked up by a shuttle back to PCO. Pennsylvania’s Grand Canyon definitely didn’t disappoint, that is for sure. I’ll mark this one as another win in my book (you’re falling behind Joel), in a quest to explore some the great rivers and forests that this beautiful land has to offer.

Check out the pictures of our trip here.

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