Sep 9 2008 11:00 pm
The weather turned cool last night with a low around 50. It was decidedly crisp this morning. I arrived on my regular stretch of my favorite little creek early this afternoon. I started tossing a hard popper. Nothing. Needle-like #8 Clouser. Nothing. Chartreuse over white. Nothing. Olive on olive. Nothing. Dahlburg Diver. Nothing. Black Wooly Bugger. Nothing. Olive rubber-leg Wooly Bugger. Nothing.
I walked far up my regular beat, farther than I've ever gone. The sun was low on the horizon, cutting orange through the trees on the ridge when I decided to turn around. I had been skunked. I hadn't been skunked on my favorite little creek in a long time and despite the very fine weather I was feeling bad about the whole thing. Though it wasn't a total skunk. I caught a couple long ear sunfish, a decent spotted bass, and two juvenille smallies, but that's a skunk I suppose in the end.
After the last rather cavalier post on my favorite little creek I'm slightly embarrassed. Out of desperation, on the slog back downstream, I tied on a big rabbit fur fly I said never works in the fall. It produced. The only fish of the day. But what I fine fish it was. Triceratops saves the day.
What the hell do I know about fishing?