In an attempt to take my second fish of 2011, I devoted my Saturday to fishing.
We piled into the suburban at about 11:00 to head over to pick up the Z8 from the shop and fish Anna for the afternoon. However, upon arriving, loading the boat, and launching, the dreaded beep in the ignition told us the battery was dead.
We arrived home at about 3:00, and my fire was still burning, so I said, "I'll hit the creek." A half hour later I was standing next to the roaring creek tying on a black CK Nymph. Thoughts of Pickerel are still running through my head. The VDGIF calendar says that pickerel are now spawing, but of course that doesn't mean they're here yet. Ten miles of bridges, waterfalls, and beaver dams have to be navigated first.
I hiked downstream this time, rerouting often to navigate beaver fields and overflows. These guys are really affecting the fishery that once was, I need to do something about that--but I digress.
It is quite easy to tell, just by examining a few pools in the creek, whether the fish have come or not--it is quite black and white this far up. Even in the winter, the creek is devoid of the smallest minnows. It was quickly evident that the run had not been made yet, even below the dam. But as fishing is just as theraputic as it is fun for me, I enjoyed pretending, casting to fish who had not yet felt the spawing urge.
Next weekend, yes, next weekend will be the time. I'll be ready.
