May 14, 2019 – In Video Game Parlance, Did I Just Defeat Valley Creek (or at Least Win the Level 10 Boss Battle)? – Valley Creek

Boss battle ends in new Valley Creek PB.

If you look at the comments in my last post, I reprimanded Ron about jinxing my chances of rousing an apex predator at Valley Creek this week.  It has been a while since I’ve seen a really good one, perhaps since late January of 2018 when I had a big fish take the streamer, and I nymphed a big fish in September too, but the fish I landed today eclipses all them, even my former Valley Creek personal best that was over 18 inches.  “They are in there,” is something you often hear about Valley Creek monsters, but the reality is that the average good fish in this small creek is 9 to 12 inches, and the average fish period is much smaller. Today, I made all the arrogant moves that should have spelled disaster:  I broadcast that I was going to look for a good fish this week, I brought a gun to a knife fight (my 5/6 streamer rod not my usual small stream rod), and I even clipped the measure-net onto my pack in order to capture an accurate measurement of any big fish I did land today.  Cocky, in retrospect, but in all honesty I was prepared to catch nothing. I was going to live or die by the streamer today in the falling stained water.

The tale of the tape.

Rain.  High water.  Both are something we have had to contend with for the better part of 18 months.  I had another trip with Kenny on the Susquehanna cancelled on Monday!  As a result, I have embraced the small stream fishing this year, mostly out of necessity, but in the process I have better “learned” a few creeks, and learned them in seasons where I am usually fishing elsewhere.  Small stream fishing also means a lot of small fish, and I have had my fill.  I was delighted to land some good fish on Monocacy this year, but I may catch nothing over 12 inches next time.  My average at Valley has been a respectable 10 to 11 inches this year, but those young of the year will be really hungry by fall, so it could easily dip back to 5 inches.  Why do I share this?  Well, I think to justify the idea that I am in a place where I can take a fishing trip and impose rules on myself.  This morning, I put one rod in the car, unlike last week where I began with the streamer, had success, but then couldn’t help myself from grabbing the nymphing rod to round out the day.

High. Stained.

It could have ended badly.  I had a slow start with but one half-hearted bump for the first hour of fishing.  With low light from clouds, I could not even see when I had disturbed a fish or even got a look.  I just kept moving.  The water was falling and clearing from 80 CFS (20 is average this time of year) so eventually as it got brighter out, I started to see signs of life in the riffles, especially—a little something, you know, for the effort.  I landed two fish in the 11 inch range, and I dropped two about the same size or smaller, so about 90 minutes into the trip things were looking up and my confidence growing.  I said I would live or die by the streamer today, but I didn’t intend to invoke cardiac arrest as the way I would suffer defeat.  Man, not long after I landed and released a smaller fish (though one I would have been happy to catch on the 3 weight while nymphing) I twice moved a pig of a fish!  I know this one, as I may have had him or her hooked once last year, I believe.  This fish came out from an undercut bank once and nipped the back of the streamer.  Not getting the hooks, the fish also charged after my second offering and refused it, just giving me the finger and rolling its entire wide-flanked body over the path of the streamer before shooting back to cover.  That was my chance, two chances, I thought!  Besides heart palpitation and one or two expletives, I was okay, though.  I wanted to move a good fish or two, and I did.  In a way, seeing this fish could have been the highlight of my day, perhaps like being followed by a huge muskie.  This was a Valley unicorn, probably 17 or 18 inches, bright and wide.

For comparison?

This was not the Valley unicorn, however.  That is pictured three times in this post!  I am just grateful that I got some keeper photos, as I have not had much luck documenting good fish in the wet weather and low light this month.  In the back eddy of a deeper hole, this fish stopped it dead, deep, so unlike the first pig I moved, I did not see this one for a good 30 seconds of the fight.  He just dug in after stopping my retrieve like I had snagged a log.  One good thing about fighting a big fish in a small stream is that he had few options on where to go.  I also had the right rod, a rod with some backbone, and I was using 10 pound test fluorocarbon for the tippet, so I felt okay taking the fight to him.  For a boss battle it ended pretty quickly, I think, but I was in that total concentration zone where time is relative.  When I slipped the measure-net under him, he gave up enough to allow me to take pic for Sam of his Roberdeau streamer in the monster’s mouth.  Then I got a couple to show the length, 19 without closing his mouth or pinching the fork of the tail or anything, so perhaps 20 on any other day!  And, finally, before letting him go, I propped his ass-end up on the back of the net and held him around the middle to try and show the beauty.  When I landed a Valley fish of 18 inches a few years ago, the fish fought and looked like he was 100 years old in fish years.  The fish today was in prime shape and hopefully went back to scaring mice and parr this evening.  Wow, is all I can say.  Wow.

The mighty roberdeau did the trick.