I'll admit, though, that this morning challenged that truth a bit. I glanced out the kitchen window and noticed deer in the field. That's nothing new. But this morning they were running around the field, which was somewhat odd. So I grabbed my coffee and walked out on the deck to watch a four-point buck chasing eight does in the field. The whole exercise lasted on twenty minutes or so, and all the buck seemed to get was exercise, as the does didn't seem favorable to his advances.
Though the buck failed (at least in the open) to achieve his objective, it seemed to me a good omen. So around 1130 I lit off to check out the main stem of fishing creek, just below the property. The weather was perfect; temps in the low 60s, trees just having passed their peak. A great day to be out fishing.
But, and here's where the expectations hit the wall, the stream was almost impassable. If it wasn't the swampy banks, it was the brush and shoulder high grass. My sense is that the beavers have been busy, and not in a good way. So after a half dozen slips and falls, I managed my way back to the truck and home. I considered heading up to the Allegheny, but I was so beat from bushwhacking my way down Fishing Creek that I decided to head back to the cabin and try the west branch behind the cabin. The lower stretch was holding about 5-6 trout, but the sun was still up and the fish were spooky. So I moved up to the upper hole. This spot held about 3-4 fish, including a nice Brownie and a really nice Golden.
As I approached the hole I noticed the Brownie hanging up at the head of the pool, which looked to me an opportune time to toss a terrestrial. So I tied on a foam ant, gave it a cast, and WHAM!, Mr. Brownie spooked and dove straight for the deep part of the pool. Disappointed, I decided to keep the ant on and give it a few more casts. Turned out to be the right call, as Mr. Brownie launched from the dark and inhaled the ant. A short fight ensued, and a 15 inch fish came to the bank.
Having gotten the skunk off, it was time to make an attempt at the Golden. Now, many have tried to tie into this fish, which goes at least 18 inches. But to date the fish has refused anything thrown to it. So I was not holding my breath when I tossed one of Breitmeier's caddis pupa nymphs in the clear water in front of him. Expectations were set appropriately when the trout nosed the nymph and turned away. But then it did the unexpected, swimming back and taking the fly on the second approach. I set the hook and a brief fight was on, as there wasn't anywhere for the fish to go with the low water. After about 2 minutes the fish had tired enough for me to get it to the bank for a quick picture before returning it to the pool:
Expect to catch fish and you're likely to be disappointed, and miss the whole point of fishing in the fist place. Aspiring to catch a trout, though, seems to puts things into perspective. You might not bring one to the net, but you'll realize how lucky you are to be on the stream.
Tight lines
Mike D Fishing
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