"Ignorance, there's no authority in the world like it."
Greg Toland: "I want to work in your picture. My name is [cinematographer] Greg
Toland."
Orson Wells: "Why do you, Mr. Toland?"
Greg Toland: "Because you've never made a picture. And you don't know what
cannot be done."
- Orson Wells on making Citizen Kane (1941)
Our impromptu, unknown inquisitor, surfacing shortly after our arrival at the large gavel park and fish parking lot, upon being told of our intended (and easy) three mile hike in to a favored fishing spot, reacted as if we were commencing Death Valley's Badwater 135 endurance race in one hundred twenty degree heat...
"Well, that's where the natives are. Besides, it's a nice hike" our reply.
Better yet, after spying the curious looking, cork handled, compact, short nested fly rod in our hand...
"What's that?"
"That's my fly rod."
Maybe ten seconds in, to break the silence as well as his scrutinizing dismissive gaze, gradually turning to scowl, we opt for a cursory demonstration...
"It's called a Tenkara rod. A Japanese contraption."
So we telescope the rod out to it's full length, from a compact 11in to a fully extended 8ft...
"A mini small stream version. Eight foot rod fully extended. Eight foot furled fly line. No leader. Just fly line and tippet. Three to five feet of either 4x or 5x. Simple."
"What's that little string for?"
"Ya' girth hitch the fly line to it."
Now perplexed...
"Where's your reel?"
"There is no reel."
"Waddya mean there' no reel?"
"No reel."
'There's no reel?"
"No reel."
"Can ya' put a reel on it?"
"No... ya' don't use a reel."
"Can ya' put a reel on it if ya' want to?"
"NO... YA' DON'T USE A REEL."
"How do ya' fish without a reel?"
We were going to reminisce to 'em of the guy we happened upon on the Laurel Highland Hiking Trail (LHHT) many years ago. A fellow hiker, a bit older guy, who was hooking native highland trout from a small brook crossing the trail. His rig - an improvised six foot rod he fashioned from an oak sapling ("Willow saplings are best" he stated), eight feet of light monofilament, and small split shot for weighting the line. To our prying friend we'd have emphasized, "No reel." A hand-tied size 20 metal bead copper wire brassie for lure. Alternately, baiting 'em - minute grub looking larvae that he'd gathered feeding behind the bark of rotting deadwood. We were a huge disciple of the writings of Bradford Angier, particularly his collaboration with Colonel Townsen Whelen, the still relevant 'On Your Own In The Wilderness', since forever before then, so this guy was an immediate hero. We decided to break for lunch to hang with 'em for a spell. Dangling our feet over the edge of a split-log bridge crossing, inches above the water, eating a can of cold chicken noodle soup, we watched 'em land a small, maybe four-inch, brook trout from a small drop pool just downstream. The stream was barely ten feet at the widest. Most ways you could hop across. Topo showed it as an unnamed headwater secondary to a primary branch (and popular trout stream) to the eventual river (also trout water). We'd have never expected to see a fish in it. Enjoying our lunch, we accidentally dropped a spoonful of noodles and chicken into the stream which immediately triggered a large crayfish from beneath a rock which began feasting on this unexpected manna. We tossed in a few more small chunks of chicken for 'em, and within a minute had a mess of crayfish battling, some pretty violently, over the spread. A bit of lively little stream.
But, anyway, we were in a rush to move along. And truthfully the prime reason for even being out in the first place is to escape from such annoyance.
"So what flies do ya' use?'
"Not much. Mainly jig head hares ear nymph pattern. Hook size #14 thru #18. Drys - then elk hair caddis - somethin' visible. And the usual anything buggy."
"And ya' catch fish?"
"Yea, why not... good days and bad days... don't matter... [we slip 'em an old maid] mostly for the serenity... we're primarily a seeker."
"A whaaat??...... and ya' don't use a reel?'
"No reel."
A final long silent stare at the rod...
"Huh... no reel... I still don't see how ya' fish without a reel..."
_______________
The past two years of extending summer and fall drought conditions did a bit of a number on the small creeks hereabouts. Many were reduced to near trickle and shallow stagnant pools. A few went completely dry. It did a number on our small creek angling as well. We hadn't touched a creek rod throughout. Conditions finally returned to typical this season. Actually, frequently beyond typical as the past summer was inundated with heavy precipitation. Particularly the month of August. We're only Autumn small creekers anyway. A preference for natives. We're not much interested in the stocked park and fish. Although far from being what ya'd call an avid angler, this just recent October we persisted in getting out as many days as practical. Besides missing our time out on the creeks, we were also curious as to how the two years of extended drought affected the native brook trout population.
Steep creekin. About a half mile of drop pools, swift runs
and pockets flowing a deep limestone hollow. A
combination of surface drainage and limestone springs
Early October the hollow was a riparian wonderland of various variety of mushroom and shelf fungus
A lot of the time we're content to just hike around exploring the creek hollow and all its natural detail.
The creek could have stood a bit more flow. But that's OK. Weather and conditions were great
The weekend of the 18th the area received a bit of rainfall which brought water levels up a bit. We bet the primary creek was staging at least six inches over that in the images. Since we planned to be out the week following anyway, M-F, we decided to perform a small experiment. We fished the same secondary daily. Actually four days. Had business on Wednesday and couldn't make it out. Same hours daily, 12pm thru 2pm. Fishing upstream the same 1/4+ mile of tail run. Consistent fly pattern. Consistent sunny, blue sky weather throughout. Here's our stats for the period:
Days: 4
Total hours out: 8
Fish caught: Total 18 = 17 Brook Trout, 1 Brown Trout (all native)
Pattern: Dry, Elk Hair Caddis, Size 16
Daily Low Catch: 2
Daily High Catch: 7
Average Daily Catch: 4
Average Length: 4 inches
Largest: 4 inches (Brook Trout, Brown Trout)
Smallest: 3 inches (Brook Trout)
Total snags (trees/brush/debris/bottom): Quit counting
Flys lost (snagged): 3
We're never this anal of keeping track of the day. We just go fishin'. But after all, this was science.
The drought doesn't have appeared to have affected mortality at all. Actually seven ties our personal high for a daily catch for the creek. And at a significantly longer day of fishing. Guess that a bit stunted growth should be expected. They were probably pretty lethargic if confined to warm, low oxygen stagnant pools with dwindling food supply. We'd have expected to hook a five or six inch fish or two. We've caught up to seven inch "monsters" in the past. Those brook trout are one of nature's most resilient creatures. It appears that if ya' asked a fish he'd have replied "What drought?" Not like those imposter rainbows. Speaking of which...
... here's a maybe eight inch stocked rainbow we hooked in the primary creek. We were surprised to catch it so far upstream. Encroaching into wild brook trout territory. We also ran into the Fish and Game Commission doin' their fall stocking. Said that they put in 300, rainbows only(?), accompanied by some muddled logic. Made about as much sense to us as tossing kyotes and fishers out the truck bed. One of the few times we fished the park and fish section, working upcreek we stopped counting the rainbows that were lounging in the pools and slackwater at the count of fourteen at the number that were ignoring dangling flies at the tips of their nose before we moved along. We mentioned in a previous post the we've seen folks in there scooping them out with nets when the creeks low. Regarding the obviously poorly focused image; heat of the catch. We'd once seen a similar shot on a fishing calendar, so thought that we'd include it. We'll consider it an artistic composition. Sort of like the movie chimp who aimlessly squirts tubes of acrylic all over the canvas and creates a multicolored masterpiece. Whatever ya' can get away with, as they say.
We rigged a few interval exposures to give a bit of scale to the landscape.
_______________
The 28th we took a hike into an isolated, small backridge mountain stream that we hadn't visited since probably the late 80's. At least a mile and a quarter in from the nearest road. A partial bushwhack, as an old skid trail can be traversed. Still, a steep winding descent into a deep hollow. A real wilderness experience. We'd spoken to local guys over the years who had said to have caught native rainbows in the creek as far back as the '60's. Coincidentally, we'd spoken to two guys within the just prior two weeks who again, off the cuff, mentioned the creek and wild rainbows. We took that as an air of positive karma for a return visit.
The waters were flowin' a bit dry. We had toted a fly rod. This being an exploratory return trip to just confirm our recall of the approach, didn't matter
Traversing the creek bank we by chance took notice of a small fish that we spooked in this pool, which darted under cover of that large boulder at the head of the pool. A small brookie? A fabled native rainbow? Didn't notice what it was. May have been only a shiner. We tossed a few casts to no avail. We know that the native brooks in such water would typically strike first or second cast. We figured even after being spooked in this almost never fished stream. They're pretty aggressive. Nothing, we moved along.
We hiked the adjacent logging trail down creek a distance of maybe a half mile. From there we hiked the creek bottom back upstream casting a few shallow pools, rock ledges and root banks. Moving pretty fast. Considering the shallow conditions we didn't expect much. That is what we got...
... and that's OK. Give the creek another two to three inches of flow and we'll be back. Plan is to hike downstream to the primary, then fish the creek bottom back upstream to our put in, estimating only a half mile distance scaled from our location on topo mapping. Boy were we wrong.
That hollow makes a heck of a rugged, what we thought, four mile trail loop with near nine hundred feet of relief. We planned to return to hike the entire route to explore the remaining creek and confirm our assumptions. We knew just the two souls to coerce into an expected tough hike...
We returned the 31st along with Muscle Girl Sarah and ZMan. Reaching our turning point of a few days earlier, the skid trail shortly terminated and the remaining distance to the primary quickly turned into an arduous bushwhack traversing the creek bottom. Steep banks, numerous large deadfall trees and boulders, jagging vines and thick brush. And our expected mile and a half mile hike turned into three and a half miles. On the first incursion days earlier I'd mistaken my mapped location upon reaching the creek. I'd been a mile and a quarter further upstream. That added another mile and a half to the quest. This was confirmed a bit later after wondering why it was taking so long to navigate the creek and subsequently checking our GPS location - both those guys had GPS capability on their phones and ZMan toted a Garmin wristwatch.
Finally reaching the primary we had another half mile hike to the river confluence where we planned to ascend another "known" trail back up the ridge and return to the vehicle. Problem was, being many years earlier since last visit, I'd lost track of the trail. Reversing our tracks and re-navigating the route was out of the question. Our only alternative was to follow the river downstream four miles to a second steep trail and ascent of nine hundred feet, then two mile hike to the truck. Considering that we'd been hiking three hours straight and now burning daylight, we opted to just keep following the river to return to civilization, five miles distant. From there we phoned for vehicle backup and evacuation. Wild Bill picked us up and provided a ride three miles back up the ridge. Total hiking distance of 9.9 miles per GPS. Let's just say ten. Nine hundred feet relief. Total time a bit over four hours. We'd have to say a bit beyond our estimated three and a half miles.
Still, we're always learning. As usual from mistakes:
- The tail end half mile of the creek, beyond confluence with a second feeder tributary, the flow really picked up. Boulder strewn. Continuous drop pools, some deep, and pockets. Appeared spring fed. Possibly limestone springs considering the elevation and geology.
- Appeared to be plenty of the fish in the creek. We spooked a few lounging in the pools. Couldn't positively identify any, but definitely trout.
- There is backroad 4WD access to near the mouth of the creek. However the trail traverses private property and is currently closed. A long MTB ride in from a separate route is doable. Around ten miles r/t.
- Considering the bushwhack we personally would expend at least one overnight camp. Don't think that much could be accomplished even in a single long day hiking in and out unless ya' stayed to the upper headwater.
- Recalling our many encounters with rattlesnakes and copperheads, we wouldn't go near that bushwhack during snake season. That rocky southern exposure hollow has viper written all over it.
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