Some final moments on the Tuck

Before I completely sever myself from the mountains of NC, I thought I would post a few pictures of a couple of trips I made down to the Tuck.

The first was with my dad.  We waited out some rain that followed the edge of a thunderstorm and dropped down into west branch near Trout Creek Road.  It's a nice little run below the dam, and the water tends to stay surprisingly cool and clear.  I've caught some nice trout there before, but this go around I didn't even spook one.  Once back at the truck, my dad boasted of landing two.  But I won.  He left with a broken rib.  [Tip of the day: always make sure to place reel and rod butt away from your chest when your falling face-first into the ground.  Always.]

A week-or-so later my cousin Troy and I headed down to Moody Bridge and dropped in a little below it.  We had hoped to float the river, but the water release schedule didn't match the recorded message.  Troy took a few moments to console himself with the kayakers up river, and we decided to get some form of fishing in.  The pool below the bridge street stretches a good 35 yards and was beautifully riddled with rainbows and browns.  I caught the most and was pretty proud of my showing, until Troy ended the evening with a 15+ inch brown.  But....no broken ribs.   

 

Flies used: lighted bodied sulfurs, a key fly for the river outside of blue winged olives, Adams, and tan caddises is a pale morning dun.

Floating the Tuck

[sorry folks, it's taken me forever to get these posted]

About three weeks ago, I made my way back down to North Carolina for a little time with my family, and my cousin Troy was just down the dirt road, taking a break from the busy life of Austin. Troy, among his multitude of abilities, is an avid fly-fisher (especially when the words small mouth bass are included) and a master drift boat builder. Around six years ago he set out and accomplished the goal of building a little 12 foot wood drift boat, a boat that I’ve admired ever since I stepped foot in it. It’s been a while since both Troy and I were in the mountains of NC at the same time, so I was even more excited to find out he’d be there during my visit.

Upon my arrival on the mountain, Troy and I set out our plans. First, we needed to float the Tuck again. This time, though, Troy suggested (wisely) that we float an area he’s only done before in his canoe. When both forks of the river are releasing water it is possible to drift from Moody Bridge on Roy Tritt Road down to the dam in Cullowhee. And that’s just what we did.

The fishing was for the most part slow. The water levels had a bit to do with the eating habits of the fish, but we both pulled nice sized trout out of the river. In fact, by day’s end I had caught a 3-run-homer (rainbow, brown, brook). The prize of the day was with this beautiful brook trout.

Troy also hooked into a nice brown.

One thing I’ve learned is that Tuck trout seem to look much bigger in the hand than on film.

Time on the Tuckaseegee before heading back to Iowa

A visit with my parents in North Carolina early last week granted me the opportunity to once again wet my feet and fly line in the Tuckaseegee River. The Tuck was suffering from the same drought that’s been plaguing the East, which made for a tough few hours of fishing on Monday. The mid-day heat and low water forced the trout into abnormal holding situations in the catch and release section. The majority of the larger fish were stacked up in the deeper holes, vying for position. I spent only a brief time on the river before I gave up and headed home.

Even more disappointing than the afternoon fishing was the fact that I watched a man kick a fully-grown sheep dog out of his truck and drive off. The animal wandered up and down the road before it disappeared in the countryside. How will the Lord judge our stewardship of his creation?

The next day I returned to the Tuck with my dad. This time we dropped in well above the catch and release section. It’s a spot I love to fish while the sun creeps behind the mountain and the mist begins to rise off the river. As expected, a small amount of light colored sulfurs were rising off the water, and the few Pale Morning Dunn imitations I was carrying did the trick. I netted a couple of rainbows before it became too dark to see the rises. The evening of fishing was a good end to a long summer of traveling.

A week in North Carolina

I spent a week in North Carolina. Although I wet my fly line three times, all I came away with were pictures.

Here is a picture of an old, closed fly shop next to the Tuck on route 107.

Here's my brother on the Tuck:

Here's the Nantahala River:

Here are the cuts received from some swimming lessons I took on the Nantahala:

Fishing the Little Tennessee and Tuckaseegee...one last time?

Well, I moved to Iowa this past week, but before I left the mountains of the NC, I pulled out the ole' fly rod and fished the Lil' Tennessee and the Tuck' one last time (maybe). The Little Tennessee shocked us (Troy, in the picture below was my guide/comrade on the two trips), offering us a whole day of beautiful river bends with no fish. Neither Troy or myself saw a fish the whole float trip. In fact, the only animals we saw in the river (minus a few birds) were a few cows.

So we determined to hit the Tuck before I packed up and left for the mid-west. The Tuckaseegee is with out a doubt my favorite river to fish. All the trout are well nourished and wild trout are plentiful. Before the evening was through, both of us found ourselves with good sized browns and bows on the end of our rods. The best part of the trip was experiencing (again) the evening mist that rises from the bustling eddies of the Tuck. I'll miss her.