And Then the Fish Were Gone

I thought I would try the same spot for the 3rd of three days in a row. I normally don’t do this, but I wanted to see if the fish were still moving up the creek and if the bite would eventually die. Die it did.

It didn’t help that as I headed for the best spot, a couple of guys in kayaks were making their way up this small creek. They were struggling against the current and flailing their paddles through the water. When they couldn’t handle the current any longer, one of them got out and walked through the rest of the fish holding spots, empty kayak in one hand and his buddy in the other.

So much for fishing those spots right away. I dawdled while I let the spots settle down, hoping a fish or two may return.

Under the old abandoned bridge, the bottom of which was a good 10 feet above the creek bed, part of a railroad tie was jammed into the structure.

We’ve had a couple of floods over the last few years that could have caused that. One as early as May of 2011. There was one other flood in August 2008 that was even higher than this.

It’s a winter shot, but the same tree in the foreground when the creek is flowing normally.

This used to be the main road over the creek, but it’s hard to tell how long ago it was shut down with a newer one built a little further down. I know the farmer on one side of the creek continues to use it.

I would imagine it’s just a matter of time before he regrets that decision.

After the pool settled down a little I was able to pick up a couple of fish. Had a couple self release as well.

To get these took awhile. Another angler was seen heading for this pool. He had his two young kids in tow so I thought I’d give up the spot and go do some exploring up stream. I’ve always toyed with the idea of paddling down these little creeks, but there are hazards.

For the last few years, me and logs in the water haven’t been getting along very well. They keep trying to suck me under them. Even scrambling over the top of these made be a bit apprehensive. I couldn’t imagine negotiating this pile of wood with a canoe or kayak. Seems like far too much work.

Further up stream I came across what I thought would be a familiar gravel bar. Only it wasn’t where I remember it to be. It’s been about three years, but I remember the gravel bar being on the right hand side with all the water going to the left. That flood must have decided to do some rearranging.

Going beyond this pool posed a challenge. The remnants of an old dam are strewn along the banks and the bottom of the creek here has quite a bit of the old concrete on the creek bed. Walking on shore to get around it is not an option.

I wasn’t up for the challenge today. I settled on fishing the pool for one more smallie and one that decided to self release at my feet.

I knew the dad and the kids wouldn’t last much longer, it’s tough to get kids to last more than an hour. They were still making the best of it, so I headed down stream, fishing my way to the mouth of the creek. Not even a tap. There were also no schools of suckers seen heading up stream. This part of the spawning run seemed to have come to an end.

I called it quits at the same time as the dad. We struck up the usual fishing conversation as we headed for the cars. Apparently, for as good as I thought the fishing had been the last couple of days, the previous weekend was even better. The price you had to pay was putting up with a much bigger crowd. Meatheads, as he called them.

I think my choice of coming during the middle of the week was a much better choice. I still think I did pretty well the last few days and other than the bowanglers, I had the place to myself.

Now I’ll give it a rest, skip fishing creeks for a few days. The fish need time to negotiate past the log jams and figure out the new configuration of the gravel bars as they make their way up stream.

Come Tuesday, I have a pretty good feeling I know exactly where they’ll be.