The Magic That Flowing Water Weaves

I'm back at Clear Creek the day after my first trip. That first day was hot and muggy and I melted in the utter calm under the enveloping trees. Today is cooler and rainy. Yesterday I wore waders; today I'm going in wet. As Sebastian likes to say, "Much better!"

The same fisherman is here again, just like me. He's comfortably ahead of me, though, so I have much of the stream to myself. This long pool where the trail opens out is interesting. I fish where the riffles of the main flow tail out, and make a few random casts in what I judge to be the deep channel. Later, as the other fisherman and I are passing each other as he's leaving, he tells me he once caught two smallmouth in this pool, one 17 inches, the other 18. But that was once, and he hasn't hit anything in there for awhile.

I learned yesterday from watching the other guy that I had come around on the wrong side of the stream. (Which I did trying to avoid him.) You want to get on the inside of the bend so as to have easy access to the deeper runs on the outside. So I cross the stream and look for a fishermen's trail. I think I found it. The nettles are taller than me in some spots, but it takes me where I want to go.

Around this fallen giant the stream narrows into fast water. I tie on a stimulator. I want to see if anything will take it on the float, and I want it to stay above the jumbled rocks on the swing.

I catch my smallmouth. Just like yesterday, but this time he stays hooked for the photo. Beautiful little thing.

From this side you can see the stony bulwark of Cedar Bluff frowning through the trees.

I switch to a different stimulator and catch a chunky rock bass on the swing. Then I find out that, yes, they'll take the fly on top--very aggressively.

In the same run I find this little pumpkinseed.

On down there's another tailout and deep pool. The other fisherman told me he usually finds some fish in there. I don't on my first pass.

I come to where I'll make my turn around. There are some nice deep flows on the outer side of the bend and along the leafy edge of a blowdown. I swing a dark nymph way down deep and catch a handful of rock bass.

I turn back upstream and fish the pool again as I go. Just at the tailout I catch a couple bigger versions of rock bass. They can, as they say, put a bend in the rod.

I pass two geodes on a streamside rock. How did they get there?

I have been looking for geodes all evening, and find a good one. It's a tube open on both ends, and all the way through the center. I think I'll make an effort to clean and shine this one up.

I get down the fishermen's trail without too many nettle stings and begin to cross the stream.

I look upstream and wonder what's up there. Such is the magic flowing waters weave.

I get on across, but stay a little to fish that tailout again.

Then I head down the trail feeling good.