TR: The Accidental Angler: A Week in the GSMNP (part 3)
- From: Conan The Librarian <cv01@xxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: 22 May 2007 13:41:40 -0700
Day 4:
Up early and off towards the Little River past Tremont, Lynn Camp
Prong in particular. I'd red good things about that area in another
forum, and evidently they are planning to close it down and turn it
into
a totally native brookie stream above Lynn Camp Cascades in the near
future.
Driving down the gravel road past Tremont I saw a few early risers
already getting geared up and ready to hit the water. I had to admit
that the stream looked inviting, but my destination was further up. I
parked near the gate at the end of the road and commenced the hike. I
hoped to find brookies, so I set out to cover a fair amount of
distance
before beginning to fish. Panther Creek is 2.5 miles up, so I figured
I'd aim for that and scope out the water along the way.
Aside: On new (to me) waters I like to fish "backwards". I'll hike
to a certain point, scoping out the water as I go, and then work my
way
back downstream, dropping down to the water where it looks inviting.
It
can be tough, as I'm still fishing my flies upstream, and I have to
acknowledge that there are spots where I probably spook some fish
below
where I enter the water. Nevertheless, I've taken nice fish that way,
and the next time I approach that water I'll work upstream the whole
way.
The trail was basically uphill at a fairly steep grade. There was
a
huge series of steep rock ledges that I assumed was the cascades,
followed by a nice little set of falls
(http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/lynncampfalls.jpg). As I progressed
upstream I passed inviting plunge pools and car-sized boulders all
along
the way. I made it up to the Panther Creek trail in about 45 minutes
and paused to catch my breath before starting to fish my way back
down.
I worked my way down, hitting every likely-looking spot with nary a
rise until I came to what I've named "Fool's Pool"
(http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/foolspool.jpg). This was a beautiful
spot where a car-sized boulder broke the current into two nice seams,
with a series of smaller boulders below diverting the current back
into
the same pool.
I'd been fishing what some folks call the "standard fare" in that
area, a #16 yellow-bodied Stimulator. At the previous pool I had a
yellow sally land on my arm, and figured the Stimulator should be a
decnet-enough imitation of it. At this pool I had a fish rise to my
first cast. I could see the nose leading and it looked like a rainbow
of decent size. It went over the fly and back down. Still, an
encouraging sign.
I proceeded to get three more "hits" in my next half-dozen casts.
I
use the word "hits" in quotations, because the fish seemed more intent
on poestering the fly than eating it. Thinking I just had the wrong
fly
on, I switched to a concoction of my own, a Stimulator tied with a
bleached elk tail and wing, light yellow dubbing and light ginger
hackle
front and back (intended as a yellow sally imitation, I had tied it up
on a whim the night before I left).
I got three more "hits" (and misses) with this fly and rather than
getting frustrated, I started thinking how funny it was that I,
supposedly an intelligent adult, was sitting there trying to
"outsmart"
these fish who were simply hanging around doing whatever it is fish
like
to do during the day. And *they* were the ones making *me* look like
a
fool.
I even reflected that maybe I should have taken up golf instead.
;-) But I spent about 30 minutes at that pool, trying different flies,
and the only conclusion I came to was that they were toying with me.
I
mean I'm not a good fisherman, but I'm not that bad.
Actually, there was one other conclusion: It didn't matter what I
threw at them, as long as it had yellow in it. Adams didn't get a
rise,
nor did anything else except flies with a predominantly yellowish
tone.
I left the pool chuckling and thanking the fish for providing me
with some entertainment (or was it the other way around?). The next
spot where I approached the water I was rewarded with a violent take.
This time we connected, and I felt sure I had a large fish, so I
played
it carefully. As I was getting it close,something looked strange,
like
I had also snagged a twig along with the fish.
It turned I had managed to foul-hook a brookie just below his
dorsal
fin. He was a fine-sized fish, about 7" and plump, and I removed the
hook and set him free. Yep, my first native Appalachian brookie, and
I
foul-hooked him.
Just below that spot was another huge pool
(http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/lynncamppool.jpg). This one had a
boulder the size of a small cabin, and figuring I couldn't bring a
fish
up from those depths, I tried to think like our friends, and pick out
a
shallow spot where the current would provide an easy meal. I aimed
for
the seam off the right of the boulder, and my first cast brought up a
brookie slightly smaller than the previous one. I landed him and
managed 4 more hits from the same pool, with three missed and one MDR
(medium distance release). That was the end of my luck, as the rest
of
the way back down yielded a few strikes, but no more fish brought to
hand. Still I definitely plan to return to that stretch if I have the
opportunity before it is closed down.
Hiked back to the car and returned to my campsite for a pleasant
evening.
Chuck Vance
.
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