Calisthenics on Curtis Creek

 

Calisthenics on Curtis Creek

2/09/2021

 My last day in Western North Carolina I decided to fish a small mountain creek called Curtis Creek North of Old Fort. From the road, on the drive up, I could see big boulders, skinny water that opened up into larger pools and lots of wavy water. The riffles glistened under the morning sun flowing through a forest of laurel, trees and sharp cliffs. I parked in the Handicap accessible Delayed Harvest lot, got my gear on and headed upstream along a forest path.

  At the water I knotted on a Woolly Bugger without much confidence. The few smaller streams I fished the Buggers weren’t so successful as nymph fishing. With the fast shallow riffles and rocky strewn bottom I was afraid nymph fishing would consume more time with water hazard snags and retying. After some time of no takers I decided to change tactics and take a chance on nymph fishing. Because of the fast current I decided not to use an indicator.

  I had found a beaded San Juan worm in the parking area so I figured this must be popular. I looked under a few rocks and saw a good sized brown nymph that I identified as a Brown Stonefly. I knotted on my biggest Brown Stone and dropped my San Juan as my bottom fly. I grabbed a cigar out of my pocket, lit it up, looked down creek and continued on.

  

 Wading the creek was no easy task. Climbing over huge boulders along the banks to get to deeper pools was extreme effort. Carefully wading over underwater rock ledges and slippery bedrock that looked like they just came right out of a rock tumbler was the other half of the needed energy. I haven’t exerted that much energy for some time. It felt like a combination of rock climbing, extreme Yoga and Aikido.

  Finally drifting the nymphs through the riffling section the line pulled away. I made a quick yank of the 4 weight fly rod over my right shoulder to set the hook. The hooked fish swam with the current in erratic motion. Once the line straightened down creek I started to reel him in towards me. At times he appeared to spin in circles in the fast current like running with an uncontrollable kite trying to get it to raise up higher in a swirling wind. Once I got him netted I discovered I caught a beautiful wild brown trout with defining Parr marks. He had taken the Brown Stonefly.

  

 Later on I hooked another small trout but it got off before getting it to the net.

  By the time I got to the bridge it had to be in the high 50’s. I went to the truck to strip off some clothing before continuing on down creek from the bridge. The water was wide but mostly shallow with little deeper pockets. I returned to the truck and drove down the road hoping to find better water.

  I parked along the road over looking a steep cliff. The water below looked deeper and very inviting. I got my gear on and carefully made my way down the steep hill to the creek. I fished with buggers and nymphs without a strike for some time. After a couple of bottom snags resulting in lost nymphs and tangling with an over hanging branch when roll casting I was sitting on a rock along the bank. While knotting on a piece of 5x tippet, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a splash of a rising trout downstream. I looked around and saw a couple of decent size Mayflies that looked like a Hendrickson and a couple of small caddis. Another trout poked up through the surface quickly only about 25 feet away. I added a length of 6x tippet and contemplated what to try next. Being February I didn’t expect to see any big Mayflies so I had none on me. I did have a box of caddis though. I picked one out to give it a try.

  From my sitting position I made a backhand cast with my right hand and wristed the forward cast downstream. I stopped the cast abruptly which caused the leader and tippet to fall upon the water with slack. My caddis drifted, drag free, down creek and the trout snapped at it like a sitting dog being thrown a biscuit. I yanked the rod back and the hook point penetrated. I stood up and got the trout safely to the net. I took it as the brown was a hold over from earlier in the year.

 

 

 The small caddis got torn up trying to dislodge it from the trouts mouth. I knotted on another. Crouching down I moved down the bank within casting distance of the other rise I thought I saw. With the same casting effort, while stooped down, the caddis fell upon the water surface. To my surprise the trout rose and grabbed my fly way before I expected it. I yanked the rod upstream, the line tightened and the fish dangled at the end of the tippet momentarily. The caddis dislodged and flung up creek tangling in the overhanging branch. After that episode I fished a dry caddis up creek to the big pool below the cliff I was parked on.

  While fishing the big pool I happen to turn around when I heard stones falling down the hill. A NC Wildlife Management officer was carefully making his way down the rocky slope to greet me. After the usual “did you catch anything” question he asked to see my license. I clinched the burning cigar between my teeth, pulled down my waist waders slightly and took my license out of the back pocket of my fleece wading pants.

We had a good conversation for about 15 minutes or so. He was very informative on their single hook laws, trout stockings and any other questions I asked him. After he left I fished for another 15 minutes or so and called it a day.

~doubletaper