Sorry in advance for the crummy iPhone pics. Maybe Mike got some better shots.
We left town heading east and tried a creek that I'd meant to fish for a while but had never quite got around to... It should probably be renamed Chub Creek.
It seemed to be a pretty popular swimming hole with the locals. Mike missed his chance at a photoworthy swimmer. The rest, well, let's just say it was a representative cross section of Americana... We worked higher, hoping that we'd eventually get above the creek chubs and into trout. They're there, but not in abundance.
On the hike out we came across this little scratching post...
We hoofed it down the mountain and headed north to find a better place to camp. Wound up along some well-known trout water. The campgrounds didn't seem too busy, just a couple other trucks, so we set up camp and started fixing dinner. I primed my stove, lit it and it fireballed; the fuel line ignited, and the plastic bottle pump and valve started to melt. Mike was thinking more quickly than I was, picked it up with a long stick, and tossed it into the adjacent creek -- scaring the hell out of a couple fish in the process! I was able to stomp out the trail of flaming patches pretty quickly. Luckily Mike had two stoves with him, so it wasn't much more than a minor inconvenience.
Whew, what a long night of dogs baying, and vehicles driving up and down the gravel road. Bear training season should have ended on the 14th, but it sure sounded like folks were out running their dogs (at one point almost right through camp!) and some of the folks that we saw had bows with them...
The next morning's scenery was spectacular, but fishing was tough, mostly small bows. I crawled through a laurel hell for a while, trying to get downstream on the wrong side of the river (there's a nice trail on the other side...). Was trying to crawl over some laurel branches when I noticed a large copperhead coiled up on the other side, right where I had intended to put my feet. Beautiful snake with a lot of gray rather than the usual rust ground-color. Wish I would have gotten a photo.
On a whim, we tried a bit of a nearby headwater creek for some brookies. Check.
Up and over the ridge, then followed the river out, mostly getting skunked along otherwise good looking water. We were almost ready to bail when we walked along a long pool and saw a flash, then another. Stockers, but decent size and in good color.
All in all, a pretty good weekend, and the chigger bites will keep me thinking of it for most of the week. Can't wait to do it again!
