The rains stopped and Sugar Creek numbers went down. Then the rains started again and the numbers jumped.
When the rain quit I looked for a chance to get to the Sugar. Finally two factors came together: a free day and a modest spike in temperatures. The third factor, the condition of the creek, was an unknown. The USGS report had both the cfs and the water level down--but not down to normal flows. I took a chance and went to see for myself.
Still high and fast for my money. I rigged up with something bright and swung it as far as I could cast under the bridge. It seemed futile, but I have memories of finding trout in high water. Why not smallies?
The rest of the time I took a nice walk along the roaring stream, learning one more of her infinite moods.
The stream was flowing bank to bank, so I cut through the deserted campground on my way downstream.
On a weathered picnic table I found some rocks. I wondered who had collected them and left them for my edification.
They liked fossils. Looking at the evidence of ancient sea life put the present high water in sharp perspective, and pondering their origins added another layer of context to the trip.
I wandered on downstream to the end of the campground and the beginning of state park land.
There was the tailout where I've caught most of the smallies I've managed to find here. I decided not to wade out and give it a try.
I had planned to go on downstream but there was no real access along the shoreline. I turned around and headed back to the bridge.
I got to the bridge-- it doesn't seem so old when you think about the fossils under it--walked across, and fished from the other side.
I wondered whether the coons were having better luck than I was in finding what we were looking for.
I walked back over the bridge and started for home.
It was an enjoyable afternoon, but it was time to get back into waiting mode for a while longer.
