High, Fast and Muddy Creeks

Some pretty heavy rains made their way through the area Monday night and took their time passing up into Wisconsin. Because of this the water level on the Fox River has been going up all day. Same with the creeks.

My suggestion to anglers after a rain event like this has always been to give it 24 hours before you bother going out. I’ve always noticed that the bite was usually off as the water rose. Only waiting 24 hours this time was only going to bring more rain.

It wound up being a nice day though a little windy. So with the river and the creeks all on the rise, I decided to ignore my own advice and go fishing.

I figured since the fishing was going to suck wherever I chose to go, I chose to go get lost on a couple of creeks. They were high and fast when I got there, but not quite as muddy as I expected. There was still a little visibility left, but only about a foot.

The first creek still had a big pool that was some what unaffected by the high water. What I noticed right off was that the spring carp and sucker run was on. Usually with the crystal clear water you can see them all running up the river. Today you could only see them when they porpoised on the surface. If there were any smallies here, this carp and sucker run would pretty much shut them down.

When I noticed all the fish, I took a look around for the wild flowers. When the carp and suckers start their run, the bluebells start to bloom. I have pictures of the woods the first week of April when the forest floor is a carpet of bluebells for as far as you can see. And I remember the fish already running up the creek. This year only a few bluebells were up. Looks like a good week before the woods are covered with them. I don’t know what normal is, but I keep saying these fish runs are all temperature driven. Same with the flowers it seems.

A small ditch of water that usually trickles into the creek was letting in a steady stream of muddy water.

I knew between the mud and the fish run there was going to be no smallie bite. I had my hopes up at one point when a fish hit and a good fight was on, but it was a sucker that decided to eat the lure.

From fish IDs’ I found, it appears to be a golden redhorse. That’s a good thing. The redhorse species are a good indicator of a healthy water system.

After doing a cursory search for some morels as I wandered through the woods, I have a feeling it will be quite some time till I get the hang of finding any, I headed to the next creek. More of the same conditions with a lot of fish porpoising. I quickly gave up trying to catch anything from the creek.

A short distance through thick woods was a pond that got virtually no fishing pressure. Now bushwhacking isn’t so bad, but later it becomes virtually impassable with thorns and poison ivy. Since I seem to be immune to poison ivy and thorns are the price you pay to get to the best fishing spots, it doesn’t stop me. Based on the complete lack of signs of other anglers, it obviously stops them.

The forest floor here was practically devoid of bluebells. Not many other flowers in bloom as well. If the sun ever does come out, there is going to be an explosion of color.

The pond wound up being the place to fish. A few largemouth bass cooperated as well as a handful of bluegills.

I stuck with a small jig and twister because it worked. I have anglers tell me all the time that I should be throwing big baits for big spring fish. I don’t care about catching hawgs, hogs, monsters, trophies or freshwater denizens of the deep. I like to catch fish. I’m not picky about size or species as long as they’re hooked. And I got what I wanted.

Another fruitless search for morels entailed as I wandered through the woods back to my car. I hear that once you find your first one, finding them after that becomes easier. For all know, I’m standing right on top of them. The areas I wander through fit the descriptions of where they can be found.

I imagine I’ll find my first one when I trip on a log, wind up flat on my face and it will be staring me right in the eye.

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When I got home, my wife was wandering out to her car in her lounging garb . . . one of my grungy t-shirts, a pair of my gym shorts, her bright purple Grumpy (the dwarf) robe, a pair of bright purple ankle socks and my slippers.

She wanders around outside like that all the time. The woman has no shame.

I tried to capture the fashion moment, but she was too fast.