Ouch, My HIp Hurts

I started out today's trip a little different than most. I decided to leave the watershed I had dedicated myself to for this season and headed over to Cuhlowee and hit some of the feeders that run into the Tuckaseegee. Adicus was excited as usual, maybe a bit too excited. While heading down HWY 23, a something very malodorous began to pervade the truck. At first I had to think about how close I was to Canton, not close. That left one other option, Adicus! And boy let me tell you, he had the swamp ass like you wouldn't believe. I thought I was going to have to pull over it was so bad!

After dodging what seemed to be a near case of poisoning by gas we made it to our destination. Being somewhat tired from the past few days, I decided to fish along the road and forgo a hike to isolated water. A somewhat poor choice on my part, as the water was still somewhat stained from silt and very full of water. The problem with small streams and high water is that they just turn to foam making them difficult to fish. Logic would dictate fishing something big and heavy, but if I wanted to do that, I would just bring a spin rod! I have a high aversion to fishing deep with a fly rod for some reason.?

The fishing was sporadic at best. I was catching fish, but not very consistently. Some would pop off, others would disappear right after hitting my dropper. I missed a lot of fish. Some pools held fish while others that should have didn't. Speaking of pools, special thanks to the electric company for laying trees over 8 or 9 good holes. And I don't mean like one tree, but multiple trees left in tangles. The ones that weren't in the stream were clogging the banks, making moving on the banks absurdly difficult. Thanks guys, really appreciate it!

Wildflowers were blooming all over the place to my surprise. There were lots of large trilliums, stonecrop, bluets, and I got to see another on of my early spring favorites, Jack in the Pulpit. One of the more unusual plants that grow around hear in my opinion. We have some that are of domesticated stock in the yard (from a nursery), so I always enjoy seeing it in the wild. It can be difficult to find because of it's coloring, but always of interest when I do!

I caught some really nice fish when I could find a hole that had fish and no trees. Most of them LDRed themselves, typically right as I was reaching down. The fun was still had. The flies of the day were a size 12 Thunderhead and a SHBH pheasant Tail(14) as the dropper. A majority of fish took the dropper. I had a few fish take the dry, but most takes were with little enthusiasm. This stream was full of loose chunk rock and smooth granite, making for sketchy footing. I was trying to work a pool while standing on a fairly steep angled granite rock and my feet lost all traction, and it was rod in the air (I've learned to get it away from me when I fall!), me in the water. A little bit of missing skin on one finger and a huge goose egg on my hip, which has the potential bruise nicely, and I'm learning I don't take hits like that quite as well as I used too. Lord, am I already starting to get there?

I fished multiple sections, and had pretty consistent results, mediocre! Don't misunerstand, I made contact with a lot of fish, I fought a good many of them, and even touched a few of them. But I can't remember a time that I had that many fish pop off on me. Just weird and frustrating! On the way out, I planned to hit a few sections of bigger water nestled between houses. The first hole I hit was fairly unremarkable, just a long, somewhat shallow run with troughs along both banks. Wide enough that I couldn't roll cast across, I made a few casts curious if I would catch anything. Moving up the bank, I noticed some movement ahead of me and saw a nice sized rainbow rise 10 ft away. I made a quick cast and to my amazement, he hammered my Thunderhead. Fish on!!! After putting up a nice fight, I landed a beautiful 12" wild bow. Since i was just screwing around, I didn't have my chestpack, and thus no camera. DAMN!!!

I decided to call it a day after that bad boy. It was getting late and I figured that Cat would be wondering where I was. She wasn't. My overall impression of this stream is that it will fish much better a little later in the season. High volume had a big effect on the fishability of the stream as did being dingy. The lower section.... I have a date with you for tomorrow! My hip is killing me while I write this!

It's all running together!

Fishing is at full swing here as spring has busted wide open. The fish are literally throwing themselves on hooks and I'm in the water 6 days a week. It's all starting to run together. I can't seem to get enough time to post reports, so I'm combining a few.

I met up with KYflyfisher on Sat in Greenbriar in the Smokies. This is an annual pilgrimage for Cat and I. Fishing for me, wildflowers for Cat. If you have never been to Smoky Mountain National Park in late April- early May, you are missing one of the most incredible things experiences in the world! We arrived around 8am and I met up with James. Thankfully, he decided to go buy some felt soled boots, which made me feel a lot better, knowing the chances of me preforming CPR on him for busting his head on a rock less likely. We chatted a bit about the day and headed out to catch some fish.

We started out fishing some of the larger water on Middle Prong, working on skills and casting. Not being a fan of large water, I was anxious to move into the smaller tributaries. KY and I fished together til about noon and then it was time for me to meet up with Cat, who had been tromping all over Porter's Creek taking wildflower photo's and talking to random people. (Remember to watch out for that one eyed rattler back in the woods!) We had an EXCELLENT picnic along the creek, enjoying be out with each other on a beautiful spring day.

After lunch, I continued fishing Middle Prong up to the Ramsey Cascade trail head. The crack of thunder could be heard and it looked like rain was on it's way. Knowing we had plans for the evening with friends (swine was being smoked!), I decided to call it a day. Overall, fishing was good, not great, but good. Lots of sweet little rainbows were brought to hand, but nothing large. Another great day in the Smokies!



Yesterday, Adicus and I headed out to the our favorite little smallmouth river. Fishing was great. Tons of dink smallies were caught, along with with a few larger ones. Nothing huge, but a great day on the water non the less. Surprise of the day was a 16" rainbow that took my chartreuse roostertail, my first bow in this river. He was hooked deep and bleeding, so Adicus got a snack! And yes, I was using my spinning rod, I'm a lazy smallmouth fisherman in the spring!

Adicus struggled some in a new section of the river that we fished. The current was fast and the water was knee deep, he couldn't touch the bottom and was losing ground quick! I had to actually back up, grab him by the scruff if the neck and drag him upstream. I have never seen the look of panic in Adicus' eyes, but it was there as he paddled as hard as he could, making no headway. I really have no idea how many fish were caught, but it was a lot. I was taking 7" smallies off the hook nonstop. Where were the big boys and girls? Maybe they are starting to settle into their spawn? I know I have no interest in food when it's spawn time for me!

Wham, Bam, Thanks for the Slam!

I decided that it was far enough into Spring for me to fish my favoritest wild trout stream in the world! This stream is a collection of everything that I love and hold dear about trout streams! It fishes good, it's big unobstructed water with open banks, staircase plunge pools full of trout, all in all, heaven on earth for me! Relatively close to my house, I try to fish this stream 2 or 3 times a year. It's one of those streams that is so perfect, I only fish it a few times in hopes of not ruining it!

Adicus and I hit the trailhead at about 8:30 and hiked 45 minutes upstream to hit some of the better quality water. It was already 65 degrees when we hit the trail, so I was excited about the prospects of today's adventure. We finally reached our destination and it was time to gear up. Sitting next to a large pool, getting my rod strung up, I sat watching trout rise at 9:30 in the morning. Gonna be a good day! Since there is a lot of volume still running through the streams, I decided to tie on a Elk Hair Caddis, something I could see, with a soft hackle pheasant tail as the dropper. We moved back downstream about a hundred yards and started fishing.

Fishing was about how I thought it would be, HOT! My first fish was a feisty little rainbow that smacked my EHC the minute it hit the water, followed quickly by a pretty little brownie that took the dropper in the next pool up. Sweet! Two fish and I'm already 2/3 of the way to a slam! Fishing stayed consistent all morning, small bows taking the dry, larger fish taking the dropper, all rainbows at this point. Pool after pool, I was hooking up with 2, sometimes as many as 4 fish out of each run, one of the reasons I love this stream!

Around 1, Adicus and I decided to eat some lunch and just chill out for a bit. We hung out on a sandy bend, me throwing a stick for Adicus while eating a peanut butter sand which and an orange. The stick I'm throwing sinks, much to Adicus' frustration! After a few minutes of him whining about his stick being underwater, he actually dunked his head 2 1/2 feet under water and came up with his stick. I was shocked! He was pleased to have his stick!

We wrapped up lunch and continued moving upstream, picking up nice little bows out of most pools. Sometime later in the day, I was able to stick my first brookie. A nice brookie it was too! 8 1/2" of beautiful, native fish! Slam complete, on foot! My first of the year on a wild stream! Fishing continued at the earlier pace, except with a liberal mix of brook trout thrown in. Moving up the stream, it began to thunder and I looked up to see storm clouds brewing up around Pisgah, so I decided it was time to start heading back to the truck . I sat on a high rock for a minute, just enjoying this moment.

A warm breeze blowing down the valley, carrying with it, the earthy smells of spring. I can smell the moisture in the air, feel the potential rain heading my way. Leaves unfolding in their bright lime green colors, while cardinals and finches flitter amongst the branches, singing out to announce spring. The perfection of a simple spring flower catches my attention, a small clump of Bluets blooming on a rock next to the river. One of my absolute favorite wild flowers, I always smile when I see a clump growing.

Our hike out was uneventful, just 2 hours of slogging down the trail trying to get to the truck before my body gave out from exhaustion. Looking with anticipation for landmarks to signify that I'm getting close to the trailhead. Finally we arrive back at the truck, both of us wore out, pleased at the prospects of sitting on something comfortable for a bit and heading home for some dinner! The day was spectacular! I didn't see another soul all day. I have no idea how many fish I caught, only that it was a lot! This is why I wait all year for spring, not only for the great fishing, but the whole package. Wildflowers, warm breezes, near naps on sandbars at lunch, and not being cold. God, I love spring!

Smallie Smackdown!!

Went with Adicus down to my favorite section of my local smallmouth river today to see what was going on with the spawn. I rigged up my med action spin rod with a brown/ orange slash bait and hit the water. As is usual, I made a few quick casts into my "test" pool to see if the fishies were active. My second cast netted a solid 14" smallie that took the lure with out a second look.

The water is still high from the spring rains, so wading remained difficult if not still a bit dangerous. I moved down to a reliable hole that usually holds fish and began to do my thing while Adicus romped around on the bank. Fishing was easy today. Cast, work the pools deep, catch fish. Nice sized smallies in the 13"-16" range kept impaling themselves upon my hooks, bringing grins to my face. I always enjoy fishing for smallmouth here. I fish this section 50+ times a year, so I know it like the back of my hand. The best lays are known that regularly hold nice sized fish. I know in the spring, they're hanging out in bigger pools, moving into faster water and riffles as temps continue to rise.

I moved upstream to one of the most consistent pockets I know of. A small deep hole, I've caught as many as 5, 3lb+ fish out of it in one day. I made my cast with anticipation, fingers almost trembling, waiting for the whack of a big smallie taking the lure. Waiting, waiting, waiting, nothing. A couple of more casts and not even a hit. Disillusioned, I realized a high volume of water was moving through the run, so i began casting into the slack water to the left. One my second cast, while reeling it back, it just stopped. I'm thinking rock. I gave it a nice tug only to become aware that you can't feel a rock shake it's head.

As this realization hit, drag began to sing, as a very nice smallie began to take control of the situation. Bulleting into the faster water for leverage, this guy acted like this had happened before and knew what to do. Diving under rocks, running through rapids trying to throw the hook. I climbed up on a rock to gain some control back, since Mr. Bronzeback was 30 ft downstream through a fast current and big chunk rock. I was able to work him out of the fast water into the pocket behind the rock I'm standing on, slowly slipping my thumb into his mouth, claiming my victory. This was one hoss bass! I'm gonna say about 3lbs. give or take a few ounces. Thank you sir, you made my day!

The rest of the day continued as before. Walking between deeper pools and holes, catching nice bass out of each one. It was an absolutely beautiful day on the water. Spring has finally taken hold and things are begging to happen. Geese are on the nests and I think the river bass will be moving that direction soon. All together, I caught around 50 smallies today, 3 or 4 rockbass, and one lone brim. Great day.

My Fishing Partner

A recent thread on a message board I follow was asking about whether people take their dog fishing or not. There were some interesting replies, but for the most part, it got me to thinking about why it is so important for me to take my dog , Adicus, fishing with me. Enough so that I really don't fish in the National Park anymore because I can't take him with me, and Smoky Mnt Nat Park is the SHIT for wild trout! There might be a few "fringe" streams that he ends up on from time to time, but for the most part, I only make the occasional trip each year into the Park without him.

When Cat and I got Adicus, one of the ways we intended to exercise him was by taking him out on the water with me. I think he was 8 weeks old when we got him. All I really remember was that he was a black little fur ball full of curiosity and energy. His first adventure in water was within two weeks of him coming into our house. I took him down to the creek below Lake Junaluska damn and played with him in the gravel runs on the side of the creek. In his usual fashion, biting off a bit more than he could chew, getting knocked under by fast water.

Within a week or two of that and after some more exposure, Adicus began to accompany me on fishing trips into the backcountry. I call them fishing trips tentatively, as they involved a little more in the way of cussing and training sessions than actual fishing. I can remember coming home and discussing with Cat as to whether this whole dog thing was going to work or not, fishing was going to hell because he was blowing all my holes. Slowly, through much persistence, repetition, and love, I was able to establish some basic rules with him.

Rule #1: he is never allowed ahead of me while we are fishing, ever. Doing so results in an immediate consequence.
Rule #2: he's not allowed to go running like a bat out of hell after any critters that happen by. This was a big issue for a while. We had a "situation" on the Pigeon one day while fishing for smallies, in which a fawn was chased half across the county, but I was able to get it under control with the use of a signal/shock collar. Last week a fox was crossing a stream below us, he barked a bit, but didn't run. Good Stuff.

Since all that, he's turned into the best fishing partner you could ask for! I feel guilty when I don't take him with me. I'm already anticipating the sour mood he'll be in Saturday when he figures out I was fishing without him in the Park. He has a habit of sniffing me when I come home, if I smell like fish, he gets pissy. Damn dog! When he gets in moods like that, he has a history of destroying things important to me. We won't even get into that!

Over the past couple of years, I look forward to spending time with him on the water. I don't have to share any water with him, he never complains about going home, he lets me know if someone is near me, what more could you ask for. He likes to get close when we're on the boat on the front deck, literally leaning into me, but there are worse things in the world. And contrary to some beliefs, my catch rates have remained the same as pre-Adicus periods, maybe even a little better.

I've also found out that he is quite the fish aficionado. Last spring while fishing the Pigeon, I hooked up with a nice 15" smallie, and released him into a shallow run. Not paying attention, I just kinda tossed it. The next thing I knew, Adicus was charging through the shallows like a bear, impressing me by coming up with the fish in mouth. To this day I regret not taking a photo of that smallie hanging out of both sides of his mouth! Even more surprising was the fact that he proceeded to eat the smallie complete and whole. Wow! Adicus likes trout of any species, smallies, but not largemouth. Go figure, I always thought they tasted like shit too! He now watches me anxiously when I release a fish in hopes that it will be deep hooked and he might get a shot at it!

I personally had no idea it was possible to have a bond with an animal like I do with Adicus-Badicus. I beam with pride when someone comments on how well-behaved he is or how beautiful he is. I smile when I see how excited he gets when I start getting gear together,strategically placing himself next to the truck so I don't forget him. Whining like a little girl when we're driving down a dirt road next to water, or to the extraordinary lengths he sometimes goes through to be near me when I'm fishing. He's a spoiled turd no doubt, but it is well earned! Not all dogs are meant to go fishing, but with patience and training, most dogs can accomplish more than you think. They'll love the time they spend with you, and have more fulfilling lives being well trained. Love your dog and take him out to play!

Fires Creek

After a very trying week mentally and emotionally, I whisked Cat away for a much needed weekend in the serenity of the woods in early spring. We left on Thursday morning and headed towards an area neither of us had ever been too. After running multiple errands, we were finally on our way towards what would hopefully be a relaxing weekend.

We entered the Fires Creek watershed and began looking for a place to set up camp. Not really caring for organized sites, we opted for a site above the horse camp about a mile. Pulling in, I jumped out of the truck, ready to throw camp together and get to fishin! To my horror, upon exiting the truck, I heard the distinctive sound of my rear tire loosing air, quickly! The real issue was that my spare is already on the truck, needless to say, we jumped back into the truck and hauled ass into Hayesville. To my astonishment, I was able to get the tire plugged for $5 and we were on our way in less than 5 minutes. YEAH!

We backtracked to our previously selected spot and I hurriedly set the tent up and started pulling on my waders. My first impression is that the water is beautiful. Very fishy looking! My second impression was that there was no bank, only masses of rhodo hanging over the water. This is going to be tough water to wade. My thought was confirmed as I worked my way upstream, tossing my fly into good looking pockets and holes. The stream was made of smoothed chunk rock, most of it reddish orange. (always beware the red-orange rocks!) I continued stumbling along, picking up the occasional fish, amazed at the quality of the water and the lack of quality fish. I fished for an hour the first day, catching 7, one 7" rainbow and another 9", the rest dinks. If this was how fishing was going to be, things would be just fine!

The next morning Cat and I got up and drove around a little, waiting for the day to warm up justa bit. Sometime around 10, I finally got things together and got on the water. I fished through some of the larger water below our camp, picking up the occasional small bow, but nothing really exciting happening. Then I moved up on a classic lay. Deep hole with a log laying across it. I made multiple cast into this pool without so much as a bump. I decided to make one more cast before moving on. I laid my EHC along the side of the log, it drifted a bit, then a large trout destroyed my caddis, clearing the water in his zeal to eat that big meal. I'm on my 3wt, this is a 15" fish, fight on! After a memorable fight, I landed the sleek beauty, short of breath from the excitement. What a beautiful specimen. I wish you could see it, but Cat had the camera. Dough! I fished into camp, picking a few more fish, two over 9".

Later that day, Cat and I went down stream to some of the big pushy water, hoping to hook up with a nice sized fish. I worked an area for over two hours and ended up catching a 4" bow. Not my idea of stellar! Cat and I headed back to camp and took the sweetest nap EVER in the tent, got up, and had steak for dinner. Not a bad day!

The next morning I woke up with the burning desire to hit the smaller type streams that I love to be on. I headed upstream from camp, armed with my 2wt, looking for gullible fish. Adicus and I worked our way through large sections of thin riffles and then we'd enter a section with large, deep plunge pools. This pattern was repeated over and over, the stream was tight with rhodo and many flies were sacrificed over the weekend. The fishing remained kinda spotty, but the quality of fish was blowing my mind. I don't know that I've ever caught that many 9" fish from such small water. At one point, I hooked up with what had to be a monster. I never saw him, but I sure as hell felt him. He took a dropper, and then it took two or three good pulls on the rod to make him budge at all. On the third tug, I guess he realized he was hooked and bolted, leaving me with a limp line and a look of shock on my face. I know where you live! The rest of the day continued with me loosing flies, occasionally hooking nice fish. In general, having a great time!

I was able to find a few areas where I could fish and Cat could wander around taking photos of wildflowers and the dog. Adicus loves when we do this! He spent the majority of the day running back and forth between Cat and I, hearding us along, making sure neither of us got too far apart for his taste. I'm sometimes amazed at the lengths he will go to sometimes to go back and forth between us. I fished most of the day, when we got back to camp, Cat and I decided to go ahead and eat dinner, pack up, and head home in light of the inbound rain and that Cat wanted to sleep in her bed for the first time in about a week! Can't blame her. The next morning I snuggled deep into the covers with a grin at the sound of light rain druming on the roof. I hate packing wet camping gear!

Fires Creek is an absolutely beautiful stream, I would say on par with water in the Park as far as looks. Fishing on the lower sections was pathetic for such good looking water. The lower areas are wild bait designated, which I suspect had something to do with the fishing in the bigger water. Access could be difficult, seeing as how the stream is in the bottom of a gorge for most of it's length, visible from the road, sometimes 150ft below the road. Upper areas had decent fishing if you can get through the rhodo. It was insanely thick in some areas. One of the more difficult streams I've fished in a while, but still fun!

In an effort to distract myself and kill time till Cat gets home, I walked around the yard taking photos of some of the things that are starting to bloom around here. It's still early spring in these parts, so not a lot is really going on. Trees are just starting to move from buds to leaf, still not much green though. Enough talk, here's just some beautiful flowers.


The common blue violet (Viola sororia), probably the most common flower in my yard, and many others! this stuff is every where, but I always love to see it!


Spring Beauty (Claytonia virginica) Another early spring favorite that grows along my driveway and creek. I have seen this flower grow in patches 1/2 acre in size carpeting whole bottoms next to creeks and rivers in the Park.


Star Chickweed (Stellaria pubera) Another common mid - low elevation wildflower that grows along the drive way. Interesting in the fact that in really has 5 petals, instead of ten. Folklore says that an open flower guarantees a few hours without rain. It rained within an hour of taking this photo.


The common dogwood (Cornaceae family), who doesn't love to see them signaling the arrival of spring? I use this plant as an indicator as to when the smallmouth pre-spawn has started.


My pear tree, just a pretty bloom I love to see. The whole tree is covered in blooms this year, which is a bit unusual since there are usually casualties due to cold early spring nights.


Common Chickweed (Stellaria media) This stuff grows along the creek and took me a while to identify. A fairly common weed that can be used as greens in salads and is a favored food of chickens and wild birds.



Blue phlox (Phlox divaricata) A beautiful spring perennial that grows wild all over the mountains. I'll bee seeing this until almost July in some sheltered high elevation streams. This clump was growing next to the creek in large patches.


Trout-lilly ( Erythronium umbilicatum) The pride and joy of the wild flowers in my yard! I have a hillside with hemlocks that these grow in huge patches of 50 to 100 plants. Listed as common, I don't think it's all that common, as I've only seen it in the wild 3 or 4 times. Named fort the mottled leaves that were believed to look like the backs of brook trout. How can you not like that!

So there it is folks! Most of whats blooming in the yard right now. Some of these are absolute favorites, since they are announcing the arrival of spring. This will be the beginning of the photo season, so be prepared for some photo heavy blogs.

How can you just not love wildflowers?

Goodbye, Dear Friend

I really don't know how to write this as I sit here crying, very upset, alone. I need to vent, make some sense of this, get it out of me, and say goodbye. Please bear with me, things will most definately get weird, But I don't know what else to do.

I was awaken from an afternoon nap yesterday to the sound of a very animated voice. Eventually I rolled out of the bed and asked Cat what was up in a very casual way. She looked at me and uttered, "Mark is dead". What? What are you talking about? How can Mark be dead? From what I know at this moment, he rear ended a car on his motorcycle and died at the scene.

Mark is Cat's sister's long term boyfriend, they had been together for about 7 years, living together for much of it. Mark was Sara's first serious boyfriend, with discussions of marriage every now and then. Sara woke up from a nap yesterday expecting to find Mark at home, when he wasn't, she went out to see if he was still at work. On the way, she came across the accident scene and saw someone laying under a sheet and then saw his bike. I cannot fathom the pain she feels right now, I hope I never do.

Mark helped Cat and I move on several occasions, which was the begging of our friendship. After we had moved to Asheville, Mark and Sara started coming to visit regularly and I started to teach him how to fish. I've spent a weeks vacation with him on separate occasions, so despite being 200 miles away, we were fairly close to each other. One of the few people I could call a true friend in the world. I am devastated right now.

The actual news didn't hit me that hard last night. Now that Cat's away with her sister and I have had some time to digest it, I'm still having a hard time grasping this. Mark was 26, in the prime of his life. He was one of the few people I've met that could keep up with me in the water. And now he's gone, forever. I'll never see him smile when he catches a nice fish, rib me while beating the hell out of me at a random video game, or hang out by a fire and talk about absolutely nothing. Nobody to talk to about how crazy those damn Esch women are or to plan camping trips with behind their backs.

This is bringing up a lot of different emotions in me, the pure pain of losing a close friend, to the humbling knowledge that Sara just lost the person she cares about most in the world. I don't know that I could function if one day Cat just wasn't there anymore. The thought alone upsets me a great deal right now. More so the thought that I die unexpectedly and she's the one left to deal with it. Life is so fragile.

Thankfully, I have not had to deal with death a lot in recent past. This might possibly the first person close to me that I've had die unexpectedly . My emotions are in a whirlwind, ranging from wishing I could do more for Sara to thinking I need to sell my bike. Nothing makes sense, I'm very disoriented right now. For all my and Cat's readers, we need your prayers and support right now, particularly Sara. She has a very difficult road to travel and may choose to do it alone. We live in NC, her parents live in Mi, we want her to come here for a while, but it's way too soon to even bring up. She told Cat that she expects him to walk through the door any minute, what do you even begin to say to that?

I will always miss you Mark, we will always be brothers even if we really weren't. I will think of you every time I fish our section of the Pigeon and promise to do my best to take care of Sara until things are better for her. You were a great person and will be missed. I'll never forget the moves, camping, Mexico Beach, staying up way too late playing video games, all of it. You were one of the few true friends I've ever had and will remember you as you are in this photo, smilin with a thumbs up. All of this is being written with tears streaming down my face, as I'm coming to the realization that I will never see you again. I will never forget the good times we had together. I love you and will miss you dearly.

Brownies and Bloodroot

Anticipating chores and work over the weekend , I stole away for the day to hit one of my favorite little brownie streams. After loading up Adicus and my favorite little 2 wt., I headed down the road with the widows down, chillin to some good tunes, enjoying a beautiful spring afternoon. I always think I'm going somewhere else in the area, but I have a tendency to end up at this stream unexpectedly and unintentionally. My first option was already being debated in my mind before I even drove by it in favor of this gem.

After parking and suiting up, I headed up the gated forest road a bit before getting in the water. This is one of my favorite moments, the anticipation of what the stream has to give and the newness of warm air blowing downstream. From feeling the water with my hand, (forgot my therm.) temps seemed to drop just a little from the recent snow, it just felt a little cooler than Saturday. I got in the water about 1:30 and things were still a bit on the slow side.

The first few pools I worked I didn't get so much as a bump, even from a dink. This continued for a bit until I finally missed a small brown. In the next pool I was finally able to stick a feisty little brown that took my Thunderhead dry. After releasing him back into the creek after his moment of fame, I continued to work pocketwater and seams, occasionally getting a bump, but nothing really wanting to take either fly. I changed the dry down one size to a 14 and put on a soft hackle pheasant tail for the dropper(14). Adicus seems to get very restless when ever I'm tying on new flies or doing something else in which I'm not moving. I used to throw a stick to distract him, but after stepping on my other favorite 2 wt last year and breaking it, we don't do that anymore!


Changing flies seemed to be the ticket, things began to pick up significantly afterwards. Each pool I was moving through I was at least missing a fish if not catching one outright! Some of the larger pools were yielding nice sized browns willing to take a dry. In the seams, I was picking up fish on the dropper with one occasionally slashing at the dry. I missed two nice sized fish, one maybe 12" the other was at least a 14" brown that I pulled the dry right out of his mouth, I could have died. Of course he got a taste of the hook and it put him down.

We continued to move up through the large plunge pools and sections of fast water, picking up the occasional fish, along with the occasional tree or rhoddo bush. Nothing large, but nothing tiny either. Towards the end of the day, a 7" brookie even showed up to dignify the whole outing. (I really need to get on a rainbow stream soon!)

Spring is still trying to force it's way through the grayness of winter. There are still not that many wildflowers blooming yet, but I did get to see one of my early spring favorites, something that has come to signify the end of winter for me each year. The bloodroot! Sanguinaria canadensis is one of the first flowers to bloom in spring, is fairly common, and usually be found in wooded coves. I've seen it as far south as South Atlanta up into Virginia.

The only other flower of note I saw today was Spring Beauty, another early spring favorite! Are there any wildflowers that aren't a favorite? While a very common plant, it's something I always enjoy seeing, even in my yard. Overall it was another great day in early spring. I think I managed something like 20 or so fish, the biggest being maybe 10". All browns except for the lone brookie that came to play. I can't wait til next weekends camping trip to Fires Creek!

So Over It!

It's April 7, 27 degrees outside and snowing fairly hard. I'm done with it! Over it! Ready for spring to show up in force and STAY! I can just hear my trout lilies screaming as they freeze to death in the front yard. This sucks!

I've waited over 5 months for the return of some decent weather..... It was 73 outside on Sunday. Oh mother nature, you are so cruel! The silver lining is that it's supposed to be back into the upper 60's by Friday for our camping trip. The wildflowers might not be that good and it should be interesting to see what the snow does to the water temps. I think I've finally settled onto the Fires Creek area, but in typical fashion I reserve the right to change my mind at the last moment. Now I just need to get around to packing!

At least we didn't plant the cabbage or broccoli yet. It's still hard for me to get used to a last freeze date of May 15th, when I lived in Ga, it would already be in the 90's by that time! So with that I will leave you. We're supposed to get around 2" of snow, if we do, it should be gone by Thursday. How do people live in places like Michigan?

Snowy Smallies

So I'm sitting around today with not a whole lot to do, and I'm thinking to myself, "sure would be nice to catch some fat smallies today!". Well, after reading all the recent posts about guys gettin in on all the fat prespawn smallies, I decided I'd wander down to my local river and see what was moving around. Seein as it was starting to flurry with a nice 20mph wind, I decided to forgo the fly rod for the spin rod.

I tied on a watermelon Zoom Fat Albert grub on a red/white jig head, put on the waders, threw the dog in the truck and headed down the road. The area I enter the river has a smacky hole that usually gives me a pretty good idea of what kind of day I'm going to have. On my second cast, a solid 15" smallie smacked my grub and began to clear the surface. A large grin spread across my face! Gonna be a good day. I worked what I could from the banks, trying to avoid the inevitable entry into the water and the winds ripping upstream. I moved out to one of my better holes, standing knee deep, hands numb from the cold. Casting upstream, I reeled back slowly bumping rocks on the bottom, picking up two rock bass ( one being almost 11", and three smallies averaging 15".


Adicus and I continued to move downstream towards another good hole, moving slowly because of the current and the very real possibility of falling in. We worked our way around to the back of the pool to slowly pick the bottom apart. After catching a few small bass, I was pleased to tie into a fat brown trout, on a grub. This is not the first time I've caught trout in this river, but definitely the first time with a grub.I tried to get a photo, but he wiggled free before I could work it all out. Shame, pretty fish! I decided to end the day there. My fingers were numb, actually starting to burn. It had been an hour, conditions were deteriorating, and I was loosing my enthusiasm. I had accomplished my mission, 5 smallies over 14", 3 rockbass, and one fat brown trout. Not bad for an hour in crappy weather.

ThunderHead

A Smokey Mountain original attributed to Joe Hall of Bryson City, the Thunderhead is one of the most popular flies fished in the area. Different from the Adams Wulff in that it's tied with opossum fur and was developed in an isolated area to fit the local conditions. I fish this fly all the time, because it is visible and fits a variety of conditions. It's also very buoyant, which is a big plus in the fast water of Western North Carolina streams.

Thunderhead (variation)

hook: mustad 94980 or equivalent (10-20)
thread: gray
tail: moose mane
wing: white calf tail or white antron
body: opossum fur or muskrat
hackle: brown and grizzly hackle

step 1:
Start the thread about an 1/8 of the hook length behind the eye, wrapping it to the hook shank. Tie in the tail, I usually make mine just under 1 1/2 the hook length. I like longer tails.









step 2:
Next, wrap the tail up 3/4 of the hook length to secure and trim excess. Tie in the wing, securing it where the tail was trimmed at. I like my wings to be the length of the hook. During all of this, you want to leave enough room to add hackle and the finish knot at the front of the fly.












step 3: Trim the excess wing and bring the wing into an upright position. Trim the excess staggered to help create a tapered body when adding the dubbing. I use antron because I'm a lazy fly tier. I also don't split my wings, again, because I'm lazy. And frankly, I don't think the fish care!
















step 4:
Add dubbing to the thread, tapered, and wrap up to almost the wing base. Leave enough room for the hackle to be tied in. Tie in one brown and grizzly hackle.














step 5:
Wrap the hackle. I tend to tie this fly pretty heavy on the hackle. Three wraps of each hackle behind and in front of the wing. This gives me enough hackle to trim a little later to clean up the fly.
















step 6:
All that is left is to whip finish the head and trim up the hackle a bit to give it a cleaner appearance. The last step can be omitted, but I like the way in makes the flies look.














The Thunderhead... kinda. I replaced the tail for moose body fur. I like the silhouette it gives the fly and how buoyant it is. I tend to use muskrat, out of convenience for the most part. The antron wing is just a whole lot easier to deal with than calf's tail. I know it's cheating, but the fish don't care, and I am by no means a purist when it comes to tying.

I fish this pattern a lot! I have some as big as size 8 all the way down to 20. I tie them in gray, dingy yellow, green, and brown. I usually fish this as the dry fly with a dropper underneath it, likely a hairy moose. I love this fly! I feel lost when I run out of a particular color or size. I tend to tie them in the dozens now, mountain trout love em! Bluegill like this fly a lot too.