August 29, 2020 – I May Have Officially Hit the Summer Wall (Again) – SEPA Blue Line

 

Low and slow, yo.

Tom and I got all excited about some rain in the forecast, or at least I got excited for Tom getting excited or something.  Even though I may have eclipsed my usual August trip tally, I was game to catch some brook trout and/or some small browns, especially if the rain gave us a boost.  It did not happen.  As you can see from the photos, low and clear conditions remained even as it rained heavily on us at times.  There is no gage on this creek, and no real comparables in the area.  The closest creek got a spike yesterday, but was back to normal.  The flows were higher than average there, however, so I was hopeful that Tom’s hunch about rain spiking this little spot was a good one. 

Count 'em!

The morning started out fraught.  I texted Tom when I got up and told him Google maps was telling me that a highway on our route had closures.  He responded that Wayz did not share the sentiment.  Google won this time, as I went an alternate route and arrived in an hour and change, while Tom texted me as I sat in the rain waiting that he would be twenty minutes late due to the detour.  I did not want to tell him that the creek looked criminally low and clear when I peeked at sunrise.

Frog water at spot two, but also a couple trout, many sunfish and #chublife....

We bushwhacked through the wet woods a good ways trying to ignore the prediction the low water was making, but we landed two wild browns at the first stop, so hope remained.  At one of the few deep holes where we have landed quality brookies and browns in the past, Tom was up and got a tiny sunfish.  Batting clean-up, I got a 4-inch brook trout with whom I did not even pose for a photo.  We continue to move through the beat quickly in search of some water, and we only spooked a handful of fish in the process, at least that we saw.  I am sure that two 50 year old dudes clambering over wet rock on the banks and in the creek were spooking dozens before we even got close.  When we got parallel with the cars again, I suggested we take a quick walk to another known hole that would have some depth.  If that was dead, we should go elsewhere.  I was up to bat at that hole and got bounced once and landed a creek chub on the second cast.  Tom’s sunfish early and this chub prompted me to drop the stream thermometer: about 19 C, which is surely not brookie water.

Respect....

We agreed to give a stocked, and potentially deeper (albeit warmer too), section of creek a shot for an hour before heading back home.  Stop two became a couple old dudes reliving their boyhoods exploring every nook and cranny of a creek.  We should have used dip nets to catch frogs and minnows instead.  Tom learned to respect the weenie, at least, as sight fishing a lone green weenie under roots and trees netted a bunch of sunfish and chubs.  He did land a parr wild brown, and I had a 6-incher on that got chased out of a dark, woody hole by a 10-incher, so trout were encountered.  The morning ended sort of like my last trip to Valley where I chased warmwater fish at Pickering just to avoid going home after two hours of fishing.  I may have mentioned that summer is getting old, and I was happy that Eric did not push to fish again on Sunday.  If the rain had amounted to anything I may have been persuaded—again, my fly fishing fear of missing out (FFFOMO) I concede—but like the rain that got Tom and I excited to commit to this morning, the Saturday evening rain is poised to disappoint as well.  I will enjoy sleeping in on Sunday.