I didn't bother hitting the Fox in the last week, but chose to hit a couple of it's creeks instead. Got out Friday before the rains came and the creek was near normal but stained. Which is perfect to me. This creek was loaded with bait fish, fry, tadpoles and all kinds of bugs.
The fishing was steady with smallies and I picked up 6 and missed another 6 that I got to see slash at the jig and twister. The largest of the fish were 16 and 18 inches. Considering the creek is only about 30 feet wide where they were caught, that's not bad.
I almost impaled myself on a log while stumbling through the wilderness. That would have been interesting. That's why I make sure my wife knows at least the general area where I'm fishing. That's the chance you take when you do the dumb things I do by yourself. Not the first time I've almost impaled myself. Almost knocked myself out one time running into a tree. Had my back go out a few times and had to crawl out a few times.
Worst one was getting out of Mill Creek years ago at dusk. Tripped and my leg landed on a big rock. I'm laying half in and out of the water, my leg twitching uncontrollably from the pain and a good quarter of a mile from my car. I thought I had shattered my leg just below the knee. I layed there for a good 15 minutes, tested out my leg and it was still good. Apparently just landed on a nerve. At least that's what I told myself. Hurt for a couple of weeks. Never did get it x-rayed. Maybe that's why my leg gives out in that spot now and then.
In order to fish the way I like, which is while wading and casting downstream, you have no choice but to follow deer trails through the woods. You tend to forget that no matter how imposing a deer looks, when it bends its head down it's only 3 to 4 feet tall. I can't walk bent over like that for extended periods of time. Especially while carrying a 7 foot rod that insists on snagging every branch and leaf that is in the way.
Eventually you have no choice but to drop down into the water and continue to make your way upstream.
I finally got to a hole that I had fished a year earlier. A year earlier I was able to land a 16 inch smallie out of it on a 3 weight fly rod. I figured if that same 16 inch fish wasn't in there, something close to that size would be. A few casts later I caught a 16 inch smallie. On small creeks like this the fish have to live in specific spots. It really does become like fishing in a barrel.
I continued walking and fishing upstream for a bit because I had no choice. I got to the edge of a deep spot before I decided that was enough. I couldn't figure out how to get past a certain point while staying in the water and getting back up on shore was not something I felt like contending with again.
I turned to head back downstream and cast into a deep spot that I had already thoroughly fished from below. As the jig came into the shallower area I had just walked through, a smallie rushed out of the deep spot and smacked the jig. Measured out at a nice 18 inches. I had cast to that same deep spot a good 10 times from below and on the first cast downstream it attacks it. Makes me wonder how many fish get missed on those casting upstream presentations.
Creek chubs couldn't be kept off the hook and some of them were pushing the 10 inch mark. I only used a 1/16th ounce jig with a #4 hook and a 2.5 inch panfish assasin for all the fish caught that day. Yes, big fish eat little baits and that's what the big smallies were caught with too. I stick with the small bait so I can catch everything in the creek. Picked up a bluegill too, which is unusual. Throw in a handful of big shiners and the action on non gamefish was pretty non stop.
One small area produced 3 rock bass. The largest might have given the state record a run for the money. I have never seen one this big. As I struggled to get some kind of measurement and a picture, it shook itself loose. I've caught plenty of 1.5 to 2 pound smallies over the years and this was in that range.
While fishing along I had noticed some carp going back and forth along the creek. Then they would come heading up toward me only to turn around before getting too close. When I was able to get up next to them, it was one carp trying to get away from a half dozen others that were constantly bumping into it and climbing all over it. Spawning ritual perhaps?
After that it was just wander down stream for a bit . . .
. . . catch the occasional smallie with a bunch of chubs mixed in.
A couple of weeks ago I stepped up on shore and almost stepped on a new born fawn. When I got to that spot I was looking for it and almost stepped on it hunkered down on a tiny island in the middle of the creek. It had doubled in size in that short time.
Late spring and early summer if you pay attention you'll see these all over. They're spawning spots for some of the minnow species that live in the creek. Years ago I sat and watched them move rocks around to create these. Then they all just hang out around them to protect them and to keep rebuilding them. The minnow spawn must be over though, these were empty of minnows.
Wandered a good mile from where I started and as I said, nothing hot and heavy, but got this last one in the last pool I wanted to fish.
The old post and rail and barbed wire fencing no longer has any real meaning. I would imagine once upon a time when this area was more farms they served the purpose of keeping cattle from wandering off to other farms. Now they sit solitary in the overgrown woods. Slowly rotting away and keeping out nothing. Or in anymore.
