A tale of trout fishing at Yellow Creek
My name is Skeelol, and this is a tale about my first 2012 trout fishing excursion.
April 14th, camping out at Yellow Creek Campgrounds with my friend Ken and some other gents. Rained all day, creek very low and crowded beyond belief so never gave it a shot on opening day. We tried Yellow Creek Lake but not a single bite. Went back to camp, cooked up some beer brats and got started on Green Flash Barleywine, Jagermeister and Crown Royal. Next recollection, Ken waking me next day at 11am saying he has to leave due to a family emergency. My ankle is horribly sore, I do not recall what happened but it was definitely sprained.
I decided I simply could not leave Yellow Creek with a hangover and a sprained ankle. Loaded up my fly and spinnin rod, started trekkin it up the creek. Ankle felt horrible, especially in sandles on the rugged terrain. People fishing where I wanted to go. Dammit! Went further up the stream. More people. Being fished out again since it was only the second day of trout season.
With my ankle pain becoming unbearable and everywhere being fished out, I decided that was the end, I had to leave. Walking back to my car, a saw a van pulling out one campsite over. A bunch of loud yinzers had left, and a great little pool behind a huge rock was wide open, practically begging to be fished. Hooray, there is still hope!
Climbed atop the rock that was covered in moss, very slick from rain the day before. Had some nice room to fly fish so I cast out a wooly bugger. After 4th or so cast, BAM, brookie lurking at the bottom burst up and hit it. Too much slack on line, making my attempt to set the hook way late. Lost him. Wouldn't hit it again after that because he obviously knew it was fake after having tasted it. Dammit!
I knew there were trout here. Not being a very experienced fly fisherman, I decided the only way I was going to catch a trout was good 'ol mr. spinnin rod. Twisted up a Gulp minnow on a jig. First cast, mr. brookie power hit it. Woohoo fish on!!! Putting up a huge fight, insanely writhing and wriggling trying to get off. I reeled in quickly for fear of losing what will probably be the only trout I will catch on this trip. Rear foot starts slipping down the rock. Not worried about it, MUST CATCH TROUT. Bad idea. Foot slips more, then gives way. Down the rock I go. Trout still on, don't lose him!! Gravity wins. I tumble down the rock, practically head first into the water. Line snaps. Struggle to get out of the water which is only about 3 feet deep, and end up slipping and falling in again. Finally get back to shore. Completely soaked. R.I.P. $100 Canon camera. Wallet soaked. Car keys soaked. Ankle sprained even more. But most importantly, trout gone. Did I fall in the water for absolutely nothing? Figured so.
Not about to give up. Loaded up another gulp minnow and climbed back atop the rock, ankle in horrid pain. Was a lot more careful this time. Scouted out the pool thinking the trout maybe got snagged somewhere or got fatally hooked. Didn't see him. Saw what I thought could be a fish tail sticking out from under a rock, but thought nah, probably just a leaf. He's gone forever, just forget about it. I fell in the water, destroyed my digital camera and ankle all for nothing.
Cast out my minnow another half dozen times. Nothing. Any trout that were there were spooked after hooking the brookie. That was it. This was the end, time to leave completely soaked and empty handed.
About to leave, then looked down in the water. What I thought what could have been a fish tail wasn't there anymore. Could it be? Waited and gave another look. Woosh, mr. brookie swoops up struggling to get free! He's still hooked on my minnow that is snagged around a rock. I jump down off the big rock as fast as I can, not giving a crap about my sore ankle or falling again. I see mr. brookie idly sitting on the bottom. I slowly reach in and grasp onto him. After pulling him out of the water, the line comes unsnagged with the lightest tug, was probably quite close to freeing himself. He is mine, and I definitely deserved it.
So was catching a skimpy 9 1/2" brook trout worth driving 150 miles, spraining my ankle, wrecking a digital camera, and taking a bath in a creek? You betcha
Will I ever go to a public trout stream again on opening weekend? **** NO
