First and foremost, thank you to all our veteran’s for your service to our country. Without your sacrifices, being able to go trout fishing on a beautiful North Georgia day might not be a reality.
Secondly, thanks to fishinpreacher for putting together this outing and showing me the beautiful place that is Smith Creek.
Fishinpreacher may be more aptly named fishing prophet. As we walked from the parking lot to the creek, I told him that I had yet to catch a brookie. He replied, “That is likely to change.” I also told him I had not caught a grand slam. To which he also replied, “That is likely to change.”
We arrived at the first spot to try within a few minutes a soon enough a silver flash with a vivid red stripe and it was fish on. Working forward 10 more feet yielded another fish and this one fulfilled fishinpreachers prediction as I brought my first Georgia Brookie to hand. Preacher obliged with me a photo of a fish I will remember forever.
My first Brook Trout.
We continued working our way downstream and were both able to pull a few rainbows from a crystal clear flat water pool. It was fun to be able to watch the trout’s every move as they considered our many offerings.
I continued working my way down the stream while preacher hopped down a ways to his secret holes. I spotted a small plunge pool behind a fallen log by the bank, and knew there had to be fish holding there. As I low crawled my way down the river left bank I soon spotted two gorgeous Brook trout. I watch them as the fought and jockeyed for the best position in the drift. I began by offering a peach egg. They weren’t interested in eggs. A few flies later and with completely numb legs from crouching for close to 45 minutes I tied on a small bead head pheasant tail and carefully flipped it into the small pool. The leader hesitated for a moment and I crisply lifted the rod tip while stripping line. Boom, the Brookies back splashed from the water and the once dead rod sprung to life bending under the pull! A good fight found him in my net with the pheasant tail lodged in the top of his jaw. What a gorgeous fish!
A gorgeous Brookie!
Having spent a considerable amount of time stalking the Brookies, I went looking for preacher and eventually caught up with him. We fished a few more holes together without much luck.
I ended the day fishing some small pocket water while sitting on the rocks at streamside. This type of water is not my cup of tea, which is exactly why I set about to fish it. I kept switching back and forth between two holes that were 10 yards apart, and eventually I was able to pull a rainbow from the small glass boils behind some stones.
I continued fishing the pocket water hopeful that the preacher’s other prediction might yet come true. Soon enough the tippet again hesitated and the hook was set into a fish that surged into the current. As I worked him into the slack shoreline water, I saw the black spots and yellowish body. It could be…It might be…It’s gone! Grand slam home run! What a day. Fishinprophet it is! Thanks for sharing your time with me today Bill. I will remember it forever.
Learning on the fly 