Sunday, March 25, 2007
No fish, but still double the fun
Mark Taylor
Mark Taylor's Outdoors column and notebook appears regularly in The Roanoke Times.
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Finning calmly in gentle current the trout seemed to be an easy target.
But it wasn't going to be easy. Not at all.
First was the problem of a big streamside tree that blocked what might have been the ideal downstream casting position.
There was also the fact that this fish had probably seen it all over the past two days since the Department of Game and Inland Fisheries had stocked this stream.
But the biggest hurdle?
The two little kids splashing around in the shallows and headed my way.
Sure enough a rock flew into the pool and the trout jetted off downstream.
I just smiled.
When I brought my daughters to Glade Creek just outside Roanoke late Friday afternoon I packed along a lot of fishing gear.
But I knew fishing wasn't the real mission.
This trip was about getting wet and muddy. About looking for birds and worms and toads.
About having fun. A few minutes before we terrorized the trout I'd stood at the truck putting my fly rod together.
"Who wants to start with this fishing rod?" I asked, holding the one ultralight spincast rig I'd packed along.
"I don't," they answered in unison.
Madeleine had another idea.
"Can we go on a nature hike?" she wondered.
They use that term in their preschool for little exploratory walks around the school grounds. It's a good term.
"Sure," I said. "Just stay within sight."
The girls were giggling. Like me, they were excited about the arrival of spring and the adventures it brings.
Both girls pulled the bottoms of their stretch pants above their knees and said, "We have shorts now!"
Like that was going to keep them from getting wet.
We started downstream. I looked for trout in the clear water, but mainly I watched the girls.
This area isn't exactly kid friendly. The banks are steep and slippery. Thorny streamside shrubs can tear cloths and skin.
But I wasn't worried. I was just enjoying the show and remembering how my love of the outdoors was fostered during unstructured excursions such as this.
"I found a sandy beach," Elisabeth shouted.
But it was actually more mud than sand and they were soon sinking up to their ankles.
"Quicksand!" they screamed in delight.
One of the girls lost a flip flop, which floated off downstream. I'd expected this so I was wearing sandals, too. I splashed into the creek to get it. The water was frigid.
I headed off to check the next hole downstream. The girls dallied behind.
Something plopped into the water. I thought maybe I'd dislodged a rock, but then I saw a large snake swimming upstream toward the girls.
That was one nature lesson I figured they could do without.
"Girls, let's go check out this big deep hole," I said.
They hurried to me and didn't see the snake.
Elisabeth found a tangle of discarded fishing line. She tied one end to a fat stick.
"Here's my fishing rod," she said happily.
A few minutes later Madeleine spotted a small soccer ball caught in a log jam, 15 feet from shore.
While I worked a pretty little slot with nymph I could hear them plotting.
I looked upstream to see them both up to their waists in the creek, holding hands and carefully creeping along the log jam.
I moved closer, just in case, but I didn't say anything.
This was their mission.
Elisabeth got the ball. She handed it back to her sister. Teamwork.
They both made their way back toward shore. Before she got to the bank Elisabeth grabbed a big branch from the fallen tree and let the current sweep her legs out from under her.
"Look at me!" she yelled, swaying in the current and now soaked and muddy from head to toe.
We headed back to the truck and did our best to clean our hands before a snack.
I made a few more casts while the girls chased a mallard drake that had foolishly landed downstream.
Then it was time to head home.
In dry clothes and strapped into their car seats the girls pouted.
"We wanted to stay longer," they whined.
It's not easy to reason with 5 year olds, but I tried.
"We'll go fishing again real soon," I promised. "Maybe we'll even catch a fish next time."
But probably not.
