Knee Deep, a year along the river

If your on here any at all you know I probably fish more than the average 5 or 6 "avid" fisherman put togethor. I caught some pretty cool fish this year but then again you would have to be simply awful to go that much and not catch a few fish. I wanted to talk a minute about some other things I "caught" while on the river this year besides fish. The earliest memory of late last winter is being on the river one foggy day when the far bank drifted in and out view and the bare skeletons of the trees were black and wet against the mist. A scene right out of one of those old black and white film noir movies. The silence on the woods along the river in winter seems deepened somehow by the sound of the river. On windy days the sound of the wind thru the bare treetops makes a music all its own. It's possible to walk a length of river this time of year and not see another living thing. That being said it's also the time of year when some of the most memorable wildlife sightings happen. I remember a river otter (my first one seen around here) running across an ice covered bank to then slide silently into the water without making a ripple. Late winter is also prime time to see an eagle sitting stoically in a tree, still as a statue overlooking the clear winter water. In spring I most remember the river bottom at Halls Creek filled with marsh marigolds, acres and acres of them turning the whole river bottom into a warm yellow carpet. Not every trip was magic though, I took a guy here who barely noticed the marigolds when I pointed them out, waded right thru the best riffle and then proceded to throw a model A bomber into the next one, hanging up the medium running crankbait in two feet of water and wading in that riffle too to get it back. But the river always makes up for it, I drifted downstream out of sight and was rewarded by the cries of an osprey as it flew upriver just above the treetops. A few days later at the same riffle my "fishing buddy" waded thru I looked up to see two does crossing the river in the same spot. A bit more gracefully I might add. Spring on the river is simply awesome. Even the smell of the warm mud is awesome after the long winter. This spring I took a day and just seined the river. Not for bait but just to see what I could find. It's amazing how much more complicated it really is than we realise. Every stone from a riffle covered in the cases of caddisfly larvae, or snails, or one of the over 1,100 species of algae and invertebrates have been identified in the Little Miami River and its tributaries. Big crayfish and colorful darters seemingly painted by children, they are so bright and colorful. Catch a few darters and the gaudy colors of some lures don't seem so crazy. I also had a fishing trip cut short this spring by the discovery in another river bottom of morel mushrooms hiding in the leaves after a warm rain. If you have never had mushrooms rolled in egg and flour and deep fried you've missed really something. Summer is my favorite time on the river though. When the river is warm enough to wade wet and life is everywhere. Schools of minnows and small crayfish fill the shallows, evenings where swallows gracefully swoop over the long holes. Several times this year I camped on the river, building a fire and listening to the owls, waiting for the sound of the reels clicker signaling another catfish or at least a drum. I even kept a couple small channels this year cooking them over the campfire at night. Summers the time I range the furthest on the river, I might be wading the upper reaches by John Bryan State park throwing a rebel minnow for smallies or down at Armleder trying to catch a gar on cut bait. One of my most memorable experiences this year was when fishing at Fishpot Ford below Caesars Creek. I was intently fishing a good run and concentrating when I glanced up and twenty feet away was a lady barely fitting into her bikini in a kayak. How she got there I have no idea, as I stared dumbfounded she said " theres a beaver right behind you" and sure enough twenty feet away on the other side of me a beaver was swimming along. I guess I was fishing pretty hard that day for both of them to sneak up on me unnoticed. In fall I have to remind myself to slow down, I sense the year coming to an end and want to fish every minute of it. This year was worse than ever, I think I went 9 times in 11 days during one stretch. A couple things I remember most about fall are walking right up on two big bucks downstream of Jacoby Road. Both splashed across the Lmr and were up and over a steep bank I could never climb in seconds. A week or two later I walked up on another big buck down by Morrow with antlers way out past his ears and ten big points. He was going to let me walk right by at twenty feet till I stopped for a second and he exploded out of the brush. This year like most years I almost completely quit fishing for anything but smallmouth come October. This October produced the two most memorable fish of the year, a fish ohio smallie I caught and the bigger one I lost. That fish will haunt me forever. October was the month for me to get caught out in the weather too, twice I was caught in downpours miles from the truck. Now its just mostly a waiting game. Going out every week or so and catching (or not catching) a few saugers and waiting till spring. Btw if you want to see the Little Miami from a different perspective check out the blog "Red and the Peanut" by Kelly who walks the river all year recording the wildlife on camera or in shetches, It's simply amazing. Some more winter reading I'd recommend is "The Little Miami" by Stanley Hedeen. If you google his name and Little Miami you can find it online. Everything you ever wanted to know and then some about the ecology and history of the Little Miami.