Started out on Somanauk creek above Lake Holiday. The water was a little stained and warm which made it easier to catch a few fish. Tied into one nice white bass and was hoping a school was around. But he must have been lost.
Scaled down my line to 6 pound mono and wound up catching about 6 or 7 dink smallies.
Of course there was the usual big one that got away. That's been happening far too much lately. I guess it's my own fault for using small stuff, but if I use the big stuff then I'm not catching the dinks. I like numbers. It always has been about the tug on the end of the line for me. Bob Long and I used to talk about that often years ago when we would be watching the kids catching one small blue gill after another and squealing with every catch. Since I didn't really start fishing till I was 40, I still prefer that tug on the line over anything else. Besides, I tend to catch a nice one now and then.
Went over to Little Rock Creek after that and hit a stretch I hadn't done in years. Little Rock was crystal clear and icy cold. I remember it being that way a year ago in August and it always seems to run colder and clearer than all the other creeks around. I've fished pretty far up stream and it's the same all the way up. Which means it's spring fed. Some adventure will have me out looking for it. Springs are easier to find in the winter. They don't freeze. Maybe something to do with my daughter over the winter.
The deeper holes, that being over 3 feet, all had convenient trees shading the spot. A fish was taken from each.
Of course the biggest deepest hole had the biggest heaviest fish that I got to see but didn't land. Like usual.
So I wandered around heading further up stream until I came to a log jam that I just didn't feel like dealing with. The light was so intense and the colors so bright that everything seemed to take on a real abstract feel.
