Staring through the picture window before daylight I saw ice crystals on the grass blades sparkle as they were illuminated by that miniature moon hanging on the utility pole. It looked cold this morning.
Yet, the pretty young lass giving the morning weather forecast promised the cold would give way to unseasonably warm weather later toward the afternoon hours. It was then I knew I would go to the creek to do some scouting for the grand and golden ones.
Trying to plan my time on the creek today, I knew that time would be short. Granddaughter Brillee spent the night and a skating party was on her schedule for today, so managing my time would be essential.
The mercantile store always beckons on Sunday morning so the schooner headed that direction. As I approached the Rock Creek bridge in the center of town, there was a group of does gently taking their morning graze. They seemed oblivious to the morning traffic and noise - impervious deer that somehow know they are safe within the real, but invisible boundaries of federal land.
With Rock Creek being only a block away from the mercantile store, this precious little water serves as a constant magnet on me. At least a half-a-dozen times a day, I walk out on the back dock and look at the tree line that runs south along the creek - wishing I was there instead of where I am.
There is an old dilapidated trail that runs the south course of the creek on the west side. The trail is rough and potted, overgrown and abandoned. Many a time I have taken that rough road to a lunch hour outing on Rock Creek.
I wish this trail could be rehabilatated so it could serve as a welcomed avenue for the hiker, walker, jogger, and occassional fly angler. The trail leads to the innards of the Chickasaw National Recreation Area.
Making as short of order of work as I could, I arrive on Rock Creek to discover the same conditions as I found on Blue River yesterday. The creek is mostly an off-color and blended water and is only clear along the fringes with the deeper pools having little visibility. Spotting carp today was out of the question.
Although it would be difficult to see carp or any other living thing in the creek, trash was quite easy to see. It seems the flash flood of November has washed a lot of unwanted crap into the creek.
I guess if I truly looked for trash that was treasure, then this little dandy here would have been the treasure of today.
This little jewel of a big wheel jeep most certainly belonged to a child somewhere upstream. Most likely the toy was swept away by the flooding water that took place in November.
Not far downstream I found another real jewel of a piece of crap in the creek.
Having my waders on, the tire was taken from the water and dry-docked on the beach where the federal maintenance workers can reclaim this trash.
While on the subject of trash in the creek, it was a couple of weeks ago I found a red barrel in the creek and not knowing exactly what it was I decided to do some checking before removing it. However, when Charlie learned of the barrel he went to investigate himself and through careful deduction, much in the manner of Sherlock Holmes, Charlie ascertained it was a barrel from the football field.
Even though the trash barrel was three-fourths full of water, Charlie was able to heave it out of the creek and get it to dry-dock. I followed Charlie later and moved it a little further up where maybe it can serve as a trash barrel for the families that frequent this part of the creek.
As far as spotting carp today, I went skunk. Charlie seems worried that many of the carp are gone having been swept downstream. I'm not quite as worried as he is and have seen this before during the winter months. When I stop to think of the last several outings on Rock Creek, when looking for carp, I haven't seen a number of species including bass, catfish, and perch. These creatures are simply wintered.
At least I hope I right, for if I'm not it may be a very long carp-by-fly season this year.
Tonight I will start on a measure of carp flies for Charlie, and once those are done I'll tie some for my use.
Barry,
ReplyDeleteNice story. I would not worry about carp, of all fish being swept away. A local wild trout fishery known for outsized browns periodically goes from a spring flow of 10, yes 10, CFS to a wild muddy desert eating 20,000 CFS. Oh how the fly guys wring their hands and whine! When it finally recedes to a normal 200 CFS for summer they find that although things have changed, the fish who after all can swim are largely there. Too bad about the trash though, people will never change.
Gregg
I agree Gregg... I think they held. Right now they're in the undercut banks and come out every now and then.
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