Honesty In Reporting - Coopers Creek

by Jimmy Harris

Wild Brook Trout

There is currently a big media push concerning the Chattahoochee National Forest's management plan for what is being referred to as the Coopers Creek Project.  There have been editorials and newspaper articles across the state and yesterday I received an unsolicited email from "Protect Georgia".  I'm not familiar with them but they are mounting a campaign to encourage people to oppose the Forest Service plan for Coopers Creek.  They list among their supporters most of the Riverkeeper organizations in Georgia.

Golden-Winged Warbler

I just wanted to let you know that Protect Georgia, Georgia ForestWatch and the Sierra Club are using a lot of misinformation and outright lies in their efforts to block this project.  Photos of huge clear cuts, threats to brook trout streams and songbirds are all being thrown in the reader's face as the horror story the Forest Service is about to wreak on Coopers Creek.  None of this is true.  It's all an effort to create an element of fear in the mind of the general public. I am not recommending a stance on this project, although I will acknowledge that I support the Forest Service on this, but I do want to encourage our followers to become familiar with what is being proposed and not assume these groups are giving the true story.  Here is a link to the Forest Service's Fast Facts on the project.  There is also a 200 page Environmental Analysis available for more detailed information.  You may also be interested to know that the Georgia Department of Natural Resources supports the plan.

Unfortunately, in today's world, it's easy for narrowly focused groups to flood the airwaves with their agenda irregardless of the facts.  We need more conservationists and we need watchdogs but we also need to be honest.  Please take a moment to learn what this project is truly proposing.  And then I suggest you make your feelings known to the Forest Service.

Landon's Latest Wild Trout Report

A couple of days ago I hit a wild trout stream up in Rabun Co. with the intention of targeting the wild browns. Clouds hung in the sky for most of the afternoon, making for the perfect opportunity to target these wily critters. Water temperatures were very comfortable in the mid to upper 50’s, making wet wading enjoyable.  Numbers of fish were very good for this stream and the wet winter and spring we've had showed in the health of the fish.

It seems that the fish were more congregated in the good looking pieces of holding water, perhaps due to the lower numbers of “slow” areas where browns usually hold. As long as I maintained a stealthy profile, I could sometimes catch multiple fish per pool, which was really cool for a brown trout stream. I even managed a couple of wash down brook trout that are normally miles upstream as well as a few rainbows down towards the parking area further downstream.

  

There were a couple of consistent trends. I fished a dry-dropper rig with a yellow stimulator and a #14 tungsten bead hares ear below it. In fast pockets shallower than 3 feet, fish responded to both flies. However the fish seemed a little bit skittish of the stimulator in calmer or deeper pools and I’d have to go with a more natural fly to catch them, a size 14 Light Cahill parachute.  I had a hard time getting any fish in really deep pools to come up at all for dry flies. Reluctantly I went down deep to them with big and ugly flies in a couple of pools. Dredging was the way I caught the big fish of the day, a chunky 13-inch brown that doubled over the three weight and even took a little drag! There were a ton of different bugs flying around, but “yellow” was the consistent color with #12-16 Light Cahills and Sulphurs seen as well as #16 Yellow Sallies and Big Golden Stones as well.

We have the best water conditions Georgia has seen in several years so get out and enjoy the streams while the water levels are still great and the fish are hungry.  You never know what is around the next bend.

Landon Williams

For A Brief Moment, I Was the Heron!

My friend Jeff Durniak is fond of telling anglers new to the sport that, to be successful, they need to observe the best angler on the river and "Be the heron."  In other words, assume a stealth mode when approaching the area you intend to fish.  It's something most experienced anglers do instinctively...most of the time.  

On Friday, Alan Juncker and I hit the Chattooga DH around mid-day, hoping the sun would have warmed things up enough to trigger some feeding activity.  Unfortunately, after a long afternoon of changing flies, adding split shot, adjusting strike indicators, lengthening leaders, resting on the bank in a small dot of sun-warmed sand and moss, but little catching, I decided the warmth and comfort of my Tahoe was more appealing than watching the sun drop behind the ridge.

Crossing the river back over to the South Carolina side, I glanced downstream to where I had begun the day; that nice deep run below a steep, shallow riffle.  I had struck out there right before lunch.  Was it due to the 43 degree water temperature?  Who knows but it's worth one more try.  Stepping into the top of the riffle, I stop to study the run from above.  Almost instantly I notice a splashy commotion in the riffle.  Some kind of fish is working it's way through the shallows like a spawning salmon.  Standing dead still, I watch as it squiggles through the cobblestones...right to my feet!  As it rested in the small eddy of my right leg, I looked down on a big, brightly colored male brookie.  Does he even see me?  Is he blind?  

For at least five minutes, I stand frozen looking down on the beautiful white-tipped fins, the classic vermiculated worm patterns on his back and his huge toothy kype jaw methodically opening and closing. Everything goes through my mind.  I think I can reach down and grab him.  No, grappling for trout is illegal. If I had my net, I could just dip him up.  But I think seining is illegal also and, besides, I didn't bring a net. This is too weird not to try something.  All this time, my rod is hanging in the crook of my left elbow, reel to the front, rod behind me.  I wonder what would happen if I could drop my fly in front of him?  But how do I get in position without scaring him?  Slowly I unhook my fly from the guide and grasp the handle of my rod in my left hand.  Picture this; rod tip pointing upstream across the back of my shoulders with the leader and flies hanging in the current below my right knee.  Still watching the fish hanging at my feet.  Getting a fly to go where you want it in moving water while pointing the rod in the opposite direction ain't as easy as it sounds.  The little hares ear nymph dropper fly keeps rising to the surface and the brookie apparently never sees it.

Now I'm looking around to see if any other anglers have spotted me.  My contorted body must look like I'm suffering a seizure right in the middle of the river.  Would they realize I'm being the heron?  Whew!  No one in sight.  I'm going to be more aggressive. Slowly I take a step backwards, then another.  The fish, likewise, slowly moves the same distance away from me.  We're about a rod length apart now and I've got more options.  Since he obviously knows I'm not a mid-stream rock, I'm confident he won't take my fly.   What the heck, I'll put it in front of him anyhow.  Holding my rod out horizontally, I watch only my olive woolly bugger drift down in the crystal clear water to within 6 inches of the big mouth.  Like a puppy snapping at a Milk Bone biscuit, he surges forward and  crushes the fly!  Whoa!  Now he's fully aware of my intentions and does not want any part of it.  Only minutes earlier we were the closest of companions, my right boot provided respite from the exhausting path through the riffle. Now we're battling in the current; strong fat-bodied fish against nine feet of bent graphite and 5X tippet.  I give just enough to let him swing out into a calm area where he doesn't have the help of rushing water.  From there I ease the big fish into a puddle of water bounded by humps of golden grass and release the pressure. He's safe and resting comfortably in the small pocket so I dig out my cell phone for a couple of quick photos.  A gentle belly rub and I release him carefully to resume his journey.  What a bizarre vignette in an afternoon on the most beautiful wild river in Georgia.  I think I'll be back again soon.