A Few Good Days
and
The Best One Ever
If someone were to ask you what your best days, ever, was what would you say? Better stop and think before you answer. If you are married, have children, or have grandchildren, you might dig yourself a deep hole if you answer wrong. Your spouse might think it was when you two met or the day you got married. Your children might think it was when they were born or graduated high school or college. Or, when the grandchild was born. Etc, etc.
So, that question really has to be qualified. Which “best days” are you talking about? Otherwise, there may need to be a little place in your memory bank for you to store that “best day” that you never share with anyone and keep the politically correct answers for the situation where they are required to maintain peace and harmony. To be remembered in those most private moments just for you.
But when you are leaned back with your eyes closed and having that special cup of coffee in the morning or that well-earned gin and tonic after a hard day, you have that “best days” memory that is yours, only. You don’t have to share it with anyone and if they ask what you were dreaming about, you pick one off of that list of politically correct answers that are always loaded and ready, depending on who’s asking. Everybody is happy. And you have several best days: Best day ever. Best day working. Best day in the family. Best day in my childhood. Best day fishing!
I tried to think about the “best day” fishing and I realized I needed to, once again, make some categories. The first time I went with one of my sons, that was a good day. On one trip, to the San Juan River, I had all three sons and my wife along. I had a chance to fish with most of my grandchildren at different times. My granddaughter and I caught fish at the “Father Daughter Fishing Day” at her little school when her dad had a conflict. She had a little pink Barbie rod and reel and we caught fish. The other dads had expensive rods and reels and huge tackle boxes but we held our own. I have been with all three grandsons and we had a “special moment” and those were all great.
I have a hard time picking “the best day” fishing but I have several that stand out in my mind. My son and I were on the Provo River in Utah just before river dumped into the Deer Creek Reservoir near the Hwy 113 Bridge. We were casting downstream and letting the fly swing across the river. I believe it was a green wooly bugger. That day we caught so many fish that people pulled their cars over to the side of the road and watched us from the bridge. I would guess we caught 60 that afternoon. And, released them all. That was fun!
We caught a massive hatch at the San Juan River and the fish were going crazy. I was standing at the edge of the Texas Hole with dry flies and catching fish after fish. That was fun!
In the Kapuchka River we caught so many Sockeye salmon we got tired. The next day or so, Mr. Silver and I caught about 70 Arctic Char each and never moved from one spot. Then, later, catching a big rainbow hammering a mouse pattern was a real treat. Those were great days!
Every day on the water that I have had a chance to spend with my sons and grandchildren was a great day. I wish there had been more and hope there will be some more yet.
One Saturday, I decided to call Unicoi Outfitters at Nacoochee Bend to see if I could come up. This is a rod fee, trophy section, on the Chattahoochee River just south of Helen, Ga. Jimmy Harris said that he would be there for a short while on Saturday but everyone was going to a fly fishing show in Atlanta and there would be no one there in the afternoon. I convinced him that I would be fine and would like to get in a full day. Having the whole place to myself did not sound all that bad. He agreed and so I went.
I went in at the little field just below the bridge and drove down to where there is a bench at the bend in the river. I put on a large tungsten bead head pheasant tail and went down the bank and into the river. There were a couple of chutes of fast water ahead of the pool in the bend in the river. I flipped the fly into the head of the farthest chute and let the current take the fly down and straighten the line. Suddenly, a big strike! I backed out across to skinny water and brought the 22 inch rainbow in! I looked at the fish and thought as I released it, “If I don’t catch another fish today, it was worth the trip.”
I stepped back to about the same place as the first cast and repeated the process. To my amazement, another big rainbow about the same size as the first one devoured the fly. After a good fight, I released another great fish! The first 4 casts had the exact same result. I had landed 4 big, nice, hard fighting rainbows. More than enough to make the trip a success if I had stopped then.
I still had on the same fly. I saw no need to change. I cast again. Nothing! Again. Nothing! There was that coming down to earth feeling that I had caught my fish for the day and the first four casts were just a dream. Then, another strike and this time a nice 18 incher! Still, a very nice hook up and the fish put on a real show of leaps and runs. This was getting to be a good “day” fishing and I had not been there 45 minutes!
I fished the day at Nacoochee Bend. No cameras, no cell phones, and no one around to see. Every cast or two resulted in a catch and every fish I caught with the possible exception of about two, were no smaller than about 18”.
When I talked to Jimmy Harris later, he asked how things went that Saturday morning. I said that the only thing missing that day were the ESPN cameras. It was not even possible for him to imagine how good a day fishing I had. That was a great day fishing!
On another time, I fished up at Nacoochee Bend one morning for a half day. It was an ok day but nothing to write home about. Since I was in the neighborhood, and since Unicoi State Park is only about 4 ½ miles away, I decided to go over and see if they were busy with fishermen, and if not, I would pay my $3.00 and fish in the mile of Smith Creek that runs through the park.
As luck would have it on the weekday, there were few people there and only two cars at the parking area used by the fishermen. I pulled the waders on and walked to the head of the creek. The creek in that area of the park comes out of Unicoi Lake and flows through the park for about one mile. It is not big at any point in that area. If you should follow Smith Creek north, upstream from Unicoi Lake, you would come to Anna Ruby Falls, one of the State’s heavily visited park areas. There are two falls there forming Anna Ruby Falls. One is 153 feet and the other is 50 feet.
I cast a few times in the pool formed where the water comes out of the lake. There wasn’t much going on so I started down through the area where there is a pavilion and cabins that are rented to park visitors. When I reached that area I started getting hits. Then they started coming faster and faster. They were 12”=14” fish and lots of them. I don’t count fish after “1” usually. Of course I usually know if it’s 5 or 6 or 8. Beyond that, I usually have to give you an estimate.
I had caught about 35 to 40 when a guy walks by nearby on the road that served the cabin area. He spoke and I asked him if he was having any luck. He said, some. He had caught 3 or 4 fish downstream.
I asked him if he would like to fish the spot I was in a while. I explained that I had caught 35 – 40 fish and would gladly yield the spot to him. He said no thanks; he would go up by the dam and give it a try. So much for being a nice guy. I went back to catching and he walked on.
In a few minutes, a loud clap of thunder got my attention and I was surprised to see a large black cloud and rain moving in. The rain I didn’t mind but I was not going to risk standing out there with a fly rod in my hand in a lightning storm. I clambered out and went over to the large pavilion to wait it out. The fellow that had passed me by came in a fast walk over to the pavilion as well as another fellow that I had not seen coming from the other direction.
It rained pretty hard for several minutes and we carried on small talk. It turned out the fellow I had spoken to was a professor from the University of Ga. An avid fly fisherman, it turned out.
After we chatted for a few minutes, he said that when I asked him about taking the spot I was fishing in, he thought I was some “weirdo”. He said he had never had anyone offer to get out of a productive spot so he could fish before. After the rain stopped, he went down and got in the “honey hole”. I had had enough catching by this time so I bid them farewell and I don’t know if he caught 4 or 40. But, for me, that was a great day fishing.
On another day there, I did not catch 40 but I caught a half dozen 20” fish! That was a good day, too.
I have had a lot of goods days on the Chattahoochee River near my house where I-75 crosses the river. It’s not the Gallatin or the Madison but it is two miles from my house but a thousand miles away in my mind sometimes. I have been told this area is the southernmost area in the US for trout fishing on a consistent basis. For many years it was not as well-known and I could go over there and see only a handful of people fishing. That has changed now. I have fished for bass and stripers in that area as well with some success.
There are a couple of guys that I see over there on a regular basis and we exchange info as to how and where the fish are biting or not, whichever is the case. I have stood on the pylon under the I-75 Bridge and caught 60 fish on one afternoon. As fast as I could cast, I would catch a fish.
That was a good day! I have had a lot of good days there.
One day, my wife and I just drove over to walk by the river and I met one of the guys I know coming out to his truck. Nothing going on today, he said, and not only for him but no one was catching anything. They couldn’t find any fish. My wife and I walked on just past the bridge and turned up the trail that goes by Rottenwood Creek. This is a small 7 mile long creek that starts about Dobbins Air Force base and dumps in the ‘Hooch here at the 75 Bridge. This creek is the creek that Akers Mill was located on and the ruins are still there.
About 100 yards north of the convergence of the river and creek I walked over to look at the water in the creek. Usually much clearer than the water in the ‘Hooch, the water is not very deep on a normal day. Few people pay this little water any attention for fishing.
As I got over and looked down, there they were, 200- 300 trout just idling away their time stacked up in Rottenwood Creek!! I was standing there with no rod, just sightseeing! And it was a sight!
Due to some family business, I could not go fishing the next day. I got on the phone and called Rick, the fellow I see over there, and told him where I had seen the fish and that he might check out the spot the next day if he was going over. He said he would. Rick is a retired school teacher
And goes fishing just about every day during the season.
Two days later I went over to the creek and found where they were, hiding under some shade. I slipped into the water and started flipping and roll casting under the overhanging limbs. This was small stream, creek fishing. 50 or 60 fish later I climbed out and went home. That was a good day!
Later that evening, Rick called to thank me for letting him know about the fish in the creek. He had caught about 12, he said, the day before. I did not tell him I had caught so many. He was happy with the 12. It wasn’t a competition.
There was one sailfish, one halibut, and one 250 pound shark along the way along the way. Each had its own story.
There was one trip with a group and my wife was along. The ladies were all taken with this handsome, recently divorced guy who was a fitness nut and body builder looking sort. He liked wearing shirts with cut off sleeves and tank tops to show off the well-manicured physic. The ladies all giggled when he walked by and looked at their husbands with a “look what I’m stuck with” bent to their demeanor.
We got to the dock and the group split up into three different boats to go deep sea fishing. Naturally, my boat was the “lucky” boat to have Mr. Muscles. There were three couples and him aboard as they threw off the lines and started the engines for the trip out.
We barely cleared the dock when Mr. Muscles lost his breakfast, and from the looks of things, all his meals from the previous day as well over the side. The captain asked him if he wanted to get off because we would be out for 4 – 5 hours and would not come back in just because he was not feeling well. Mr. Muscles would not think of going back! How humiliating that would be!
So, he was out of commission, lying on the bench inside the cabin, moaning and groaning for the rest of the day. Somehow, his alluring appeal was gone. I think it went overboard at the dock and the rest of the fellows on the trip were just soooooo sympathetic!!! That was a good day for every male on the trip but Mr. Muscles!
I had lunch with a multimillionaire and we were talking about vacations, etc. He told me it was nearly impossible for him to get away on vacation because he just could not leave his business very long at the time. He was indispensable, it would seem.
About 30 days later, he went to bed and never woke up. He died in his sleep from a heart attack. That was about 1975. His company is still going 39 years later. He was not as indispensable as he thought. I hope he had already enjoyed some good days.
I am thankful for the days I have had and hope there are more. One never knows when the last time they went fishing is THE LAST TIME they will be going. Or, doing anything else, for that matter. I may have already had it, I don’t know. But there were some good days! And, some good people!
©9/9/2014 HJC
