Fishing The Cycle

It was last summer, in the month of July, that I caught a total of 10 different species of freshwater fish in one day.  It was not my intention to do this.  When the day was over and lay in my tent that night reflecting, I realized that I had.  I I compare it to hitting the cycle in baseball, to use a sports analogy.  Difficult to achieve and probably rarely done.  This is the story of that day.

The state of Tennessee was enduring a harsh drought.  It was the middle of July and it had not rained in  two months.  I owned a landscaping business at the time, and like many others in that business, work was becoming scarce.  This particular week, I had no work slated.  With a couple of days of no work ahead, I felt the urge just to get away.  Money was tight and there wasn't much more about to come in, but that only fueled my desire to get away.  

I began researching a book entitled "Middle Tennessee Fishing Map Guide".  It gives details of creeks, rivers, lakes, bait choices, public fishing areas, boat ramps, and even more useful information.  My plan was to head East on I-40, use the book and a map, and enjoy a whole day of fishing. So I left early that morning and headed out of Nashville. 

My first destination is a familar one.  I stop at the rest area on exit 266.  It's two miles before the Center Hill Dam exit. I walk through the woods and soon approach the Caney Fork River. A crane flees in disapproval.  A thick fog hangs only a few feet above the water.  With single salmon egg on hook and a single sinker, I cast on top of a gravely dropoff, and catch a small rainbow trout on the first cast.  After a few more casts, I pull in a second about the same size.   A cool breeze blows in from the south as the frigid waters rush around my waders. Feeling a chill, I get out of the water and walk the bank.   I next come to an area under the interstate bridge that looks like the kind of place an elusive brown trout might call home.  I switch bait to an artificial crawfish and right before giving up, catch a brown trout.  He is small though, only about 10 inches.  I release him, cast a few more times with no luck, and decide to move on to my next destination.

2 rainbow trout

1 brown trout

The book leads me to a creek called Peyton Creek in Smith County.  It reportedly holds nice size smallmouth and good fishing.  I drive a two lane road that winds through farm country.  Before long I come to a small town, I can't recall its name, with only a few homes, a church, and a post office.  Private land surrounds the area and I begin to wonder if I will be able to even access the creek.  Fortunately I find a pull-off area right on the edge of Peyton Creek and begin fishing.  The water is only a foot deep and the creek is about 20 feet wide.  A fenced field with cattle graze across shore. It's now midday and it has warmed up considerably.  I walk up the creek, casting out my tiny artificial crawfish anywhere there was a shaded spot. It's not long before I catch a chub.  It is small and produces a squeal when I remove the hook.  I soon thereafter catch  another chub. Next I move upstream and cast my lure around a root structure.  It there   I catch my first Peyton Creek smallmouth bass.  Its about six inches in size.  I catch a few more tiny smallmouth and continue upstream.

I eventually come upon what looks like a good hole.  The waters deeper, about three feet, and theres a large boulder with good cover around it.  I cast in front of the boulder and reel the Rapala crawfish right by it.  My lure is immediately hit and I hook into a fat red-eye bass.  He weighs approximately 1 pound.  The biggest I have ever caught in Tennessee.  Impressed, I release him and cast out again in the same area.  This time I hook into a nice smallmouth.  He is about 13 inches and weighes about a pound and a half.  I end up hooking into one more nice smallmouth before the hole is fished out. I wish to continue on but to do so I will have to tresspass on private land.  So instead I wade back downstream and get back into my truck.

2 chub

1 red-eye bass

3 smallmouth bass

2 rainbow trout

1 brown trout

It is now later in the afternoon.  I decide to find a state park where I can set up camp, and do some more fishing.  I notice an interstate sign for Rock Island State Park.  The interstate sign says the park offers both and make that my destination.  I eventually find the park and check in at the ranger station.  I ask them about the fishing and they say the waters low but people are still catching fish.  I thank them and go to check it out myself.  

The area I chose to fish was a very popular one.  There are a few waterfalls, probably 20 feet and higher in height.  There is also an underground stream that burst out the side of a mountain and runs down into the Caney Fork River (the first picture in this blog).  It is certainly an incredible site and is the parks main attraction.  Fortunately for me, its the middle of the week and the only people around are some college kids that are about to leave.  I soon have the entire area to myself.  

I cast out below one of the falls and before long hook into a small crappie.  I end up catching about 3 more and a couple of sunfish as well.  No big fish seem to be around so I move up stream to a deep hole below another group of falls.  I am sticking to my crawfish seeing as how it has been quite successful, and before long catch a decent largemouth, about 12 inches. I keep him for dinner and continue fishing, catching two more red-eye bass.  Then, the bite stops. For about an hour I have no luck.  I switch up lures a couple of times but its not helping.  The sun is setting and the shadows are getting longer.  Before long it will be dark.  

I decided to switch to a white, 1/8 oz  spinner.  Nothing else is working, why not.  I let it sink pretty deep before reeling it in, and soon after, feel a tug on the end of my line.  I set the hook and can feel something pretty heavy on the end of my line.  When i first see the fish, I think its a smallmouth bass, but when I get him all the way in, I realize its not.  Its jagged teeth and large back fins baffle me at first.  Then I realize what it is.  A walleye.  I know this because of a picture in the rangers office of some kids with a stringer of fish that I didn't recognize.  I asked the ranger about it and he told me they were walleye.  My fish was about 15 inches and pushing two pounds.  I was ecstatic since I had never caught this species before.  I released him and cast out again in the same area.  Before complete darkness, I was able to catch three more walleye.

4 walleye

4 crappie

2 sunfish

1 largemouth bass

3 smallmouth bass

2 red-eye bass

2 chubs

1 brown trout

2 rainbow trout

I return to camp where I cook up the largemouth and enjoy my feast.  It is now night.   I read in my book about Rock Island and an area called Blue Hole. The informative book said it was a good place for catfish and big walleye.  So I get my gear together one more time,  follow the signs for Blue Hole, and find the parking area.  Its a massive, deep hole.  On the oppisite side is hundred foot bluffs. I put on a nightcrawler, cast out, sip on a beer, look up at the stars and wait.  Its been a long day and I am feeling worn out.  I'm nearly asleep when my pole starts dancing.  I jump up, grabb the pole, wait to feel another tug, and then set the hook, hard.  I enjoy a good fight and reel in a nice 2 and a half pound catfish.  I'm delighted and awake again.  I set him free and recast.  Its only about 5 minutes before I have another catfish ashore, this one about 2 pounds.  I release him too and decide it was time to call it a day.

I got back to camp and began to reflect on the day.  I had had an incredible day of fishing.  I knew I caught a lot of fish.  Than I began to really think about it.  2 catfish, 4 walleye, 4 crappie, 2 sunfish, 1 largemouth bass, 3 smallmouth bass, 2 red-eye bass, 2 chub, 1 brown trout, and 2 rainbow trout.  23 Total fish and 10 different species of freshwater fish.  

I realize that there is probably not a whole lot of places in this country where one can catch so many different species of fish in one general area.  I was able to catch 10 different species by randomly choosing 4 different locations.  There are also large species like musky and striped bass that, with proper planning, could be added to the cycle. I don't know if many other people have done it. I don't know if anyone else has even attempted to do fish a cycle of freshwater fish.  I do know, though, that I needed it, and enjoyed a lot of moments while doing it.  

My Virgin Falls Expedition

    

     I overheard some bar customers one night talking about a place they called Virgin Falls.  I was eaves dropping and heard words like "waterfalls", and "caves". Their conversation had peaked my interest.  I wondered why I had never heard of such a place. I did some research and found out that Virgin Falls is on a wildlife management area, and not on a state park.  Its more of a locals area.  Also, the falls flow at the end of a rough, five mile hike. Its estimated that you allow for up to six hours to complete the whole trek.  Not exactly the kind of place you can park the family van and walk everyone across the street to have a look at the beautiful waterfall.  

 The trail did however have the highest ratings of any trail I had ever seen in Tennessee.  Those that had hiked and reviewed it,  raved about how amazing it was.  

I was convinced. All that was left was to find someone to go with, which is not exactly easy for me.  My days off are different than most peoples, Thursdays and Fridays.  Not only that but I have to find someone thats okay with eating, sleeping, and shiting out in the wilderness for a couple of days.  

    Fortunately I was able to find two perfect companions.  Their names are Casha, and Josh. Casha grew up near Virgin Falls and has prior experience there, while Josh definitely shares my sense of adventure and is in great physical shape.  The trio was formed.  We planned to backpack in, spend one night and two days in the area, and see what the place had to offer.   After some coordination, the plan was set and we left on a Thursday morning.

    After a 2 hour drive from Nashville, we found ourselves entering the Bridgestone/Firestone Wildlife Management area. The drive in was on a dirt, gravel road surrounded by a dense, lush forest. A mother doe and fawn crossed the road in front of us and disappeared into the woods.

Shortly thereafter we found the parking area and trailhead.  After doublechecking our gear, we started the hike.    The trail was wide and easy to follow.   The first half mile wound between towering red oak and maple trees.  Then the trail became surrounded by thick rhododendren.  Adjacent to us was a narrow, rocky creek.   Its was dry from drought conditions.  We followed this creek until it fed into a much larger stream.  This stream held some water in pools but little was flowing. Either side had become quite steep and soon pines made up much of the woodland.  The constantly changing environment made for an entertaining and aesthetic hike.

After trekking approximately two relatively easy miles, we came upon a fork in the road. We were presented with the option of hiking the upper trail for a scenic, longer hike, or the lower trail which was a short cut to Laurel Falls, our designated base camp.  We were all in agreement and went gung-ho for the upper trail. 

The trail ran parallel with gargantuan,  tall boulders that jutted up from a steep hillside. The first one we came to we dropped our packs, scoped out a good climb, and began scaling on it. We warmed up on a crack that ran between two boulders.  It went about 15 feet high and was pretty difficult.  After getting up some confidence we graduated on to the larger ones and scaled them too. We were now feeling good and ready to try and climb the biggest boulder we could find. 

We found the largest one the trail and began climbing. We made our way easily up the first ten feet. Then we had to crawl under a ledge with large cobwebs and spiders just inches above our heads. After the ledge, a group of pine trees made for some good hand-holds which enabled us to reach the top of the rock face. There we are rewarded with a spectacular view.  Miles and miles of rich woodland, cut steeply by the Caney Fork River lay in view. It looked like a very long V.  The sky was a deep, summertime blue, and you could count the number of clouds on one hand.  Visibility enabled us to enjoy this view for miles.  This was not a site you could pull up to in your car.  We earned it.  

After some high fives, we climbed down and returned to the main trail. We got a little lost but eventually made it back on the main trail.  From there the hiking got more steep and was definitely a work out with the packs on.  Before long we reached what would become basecamp, Laurel Falls.

   In the winter and spring months this area is rushing with water and Laurel Falls is quite the sight to behold.  Now however, during a typical dry Tennessee summer, the falls were more like a trickle. Though the area is still amazing. The mouth of the cave that the falls flow over is probably 60 yards wide.   If it helps with perspective, the two, tiny, white specks in the middle of the picture above, is Josh and Casha.  The rest is the mouth of the cave.

 

We set up camp and ate lunch.  We discussed what to do next and decided to go ahead and hike the remaining 3 miles into Virgin Falls. On the way however, we came upon a fork in the road. One trail lead to the Caney Fork River, and the other would take us to Virgin Falls.  Upon discussion, we decided to leave the falls for the following day and instead head towards the river. 

The narrow side trail wound its way steeply downhill around many small boulders.  In the distance the roar of the river was becoming increasingly audible. We were hot, dirty, and a swim seemed like great idea.  After about a mile, the trail flattened out and a small wooden sign pointed us in the direction of the Caney Fork River.  

  Old campfires and ATV trails were visible throughout the area. Large conifers lined the river banks.  The trio approaches the river and its there that we noticed a rope swing. It hung from a large branch that extended out over what seemed like a deep pool of water. We looked at each other with jubilation and laughed.  

   The swing swung out probably thirty feet from the shore and offered a drop from about ten feet high off the water. We took turns for about half an hour,  each time trying to go the highest or perform some kind of trick.  Casha busted out a very impressive back-flip.  Josh was determined to do one too and actually did before we  left.  We took some action photos of each of us and was able to capture Casha, mid-backflip.

Re-energized, we hiked back to camp, made a fire, and settled in for the night.  We sipped some whiskey, ate cold pizza, talked about woman, sports, and our day, and crashed pretty early.

 After some good half-drunken sleep, we ate breakfast, rehydrated, made fun of Casha for his druken antics the night before(Don't worry Casha. Your secrets somewhat safe with me),  and began our hike to Virgin Falls. After approximately a mile into the hike, we noticed a steep trail that led to the bottom of an escarpment. The trail was so steep that a rope was left to aid those wanting to traverse down it. Gung-ho seemed to be the theme for this trio and so we started down the steep embankment.

  The descent was very muddy from a recent rain, and even though we had the rope,  there were still a few slips.  There was also a plant named stinging metals on either side of the trail.  When you touched this plant, you felt as if you were getting stung by a small bee, and the itching that followed was quite uncomfortable.  

 

We eventually made it to the bottom,  where there was a cavern about twenty feet high and went back about thirty feet.  Loose boulders wobbled under our feet.  The temparature dropped dramatically in the cavern, at least 10 degrees. Above us was a creek flowing.  It had carved out of a hole about ten feet high off the cavern floor and it must have been about four feet around, A log was leaned up against and into the hole. It looked climbable, but the cave water was frigid.  This wasn't going to stop Josh though.   He used the log for support and found some good hand holds, which enabled him to climb up and  through the hole. 

Casha and I however were hesitant.  Neither one really wanted to get wet, but neither one wanted to back down either.  But against our judgement, we followed.   And I am so glad we did.  What we discovered next was my favorite part of the trip. 

The three of us found ourselves in another cavern. It was very dark and so we put on headlamps to have a look around. When we did we were stunned to see a waterfall, 10 feet in height,  flowing down in front of us! It wasn't very wide, about 4 feet, but the water was gushing forward.  We looked up and saw the ceilings were probably another 30 feet high!    This was very "Goonie" like.  We all said some explitives and looked closer.  We knew that to move on and further any exploration, we would have to  climb the waterfall.  It looked relative easy but there would be no avoiding the icy waters. We each got soaked but our adrenaline was pumping, and we no longer felt cold.  I snapped a pic of Josh as he ascended. The lens was already wet which made for a poor picture. That would be the last cave picture as I had to leave the camera behind for fear of damage.

  When we reached the top of the falls, the stream had carved out a cave large enough to stand up and walk through.  A small red salamander with black specks clung to the walls. The creek trickled between our legs as we walked single file deeper into the cave. Large trees and stumps showed sign of this now shallow stream, being much stronger in the winter and spring months. The water became deep and so we climbed up onto a ledge above the creek.  A musty smell hung in the air.   We continued back only about 100 yards before noticing light. The light got brighter and before long we exited out of the cave. We found ourselves surrounded on either side by 90 foot cliff faces that went straight up. I attempted to climb on them but they were soaking wet and too slick.  Evidence showed where the water fell from one of the cliffs, splashed down on the limestone, and over time formed the cave we had just walked through. It was all a little surreal.   

Satisfied with the end of our cave exploration, and with no other exit, we high-fived again, headed back through the passage, down the waterfall, back up the steep escarpment, and onto the main trail.  

It was finally time to see Virgin Falls. I felt like we had already seen and done so much, and yet the grand finale, the whole reason for coming on this trip in the first place, was just around the bend. And I must say I was not dissappointed. This dramatic waterfall comes out of nowhere. Its over 100 feet in height and another 80 feet in width. Even in the summer its flow is strong. It cascades down and at the bottom is a vast cave system. A green moss grows on its rock face and adds a splashes of green. Casha assures me that this is Virgin Falls with a thumbs up. 

Our trio hikes down to the base of the falls and notices the cave system below. We try to find a way down but realize it is impossible without repelling gear.  The caverns below were enormous and the rushing water reverberated off their walls, making it hard to hear.  Who knows how deep they run.  After some more exploration, we decide to go to the top of the falls.  

After a relatively easy climb, we stand at the edge of the falls.  The scene is amazing as the stream flows down the waterfall and then just dissappears under the ground.  Large boulders and logs lay at the falls' bottom.  Behind us is Virgin Creek.  It literally comes out of nowhere.  It is an underground creek and quickly disappears into the mountain.  The only time the creek is exposed is when it rushes over this amazing spectacle.  Next the three of us climb up some large boulders that rest above the falls.  When the three of us reached the very top, we just sat there.  We knew this was the end of our trip, and for the next ten minutes, nobody said a word.  

Satisfied with the view and after snapping a lot of pictures, we headed back for basecamp.  Little did we know there would be one more surprise for us along the way.  Josh and I were in front discussing something, when we heard Casha let out a shriek.  We quickly turned around and heard him yell out "Snake!"  Josh and I had walked right by it and never even saw it.  Then it began rattling.  It was of course a rattlsnake, this one a timber rattler, with a body circumference the size of a soup can!  This was the first time in my life I had ever seen, or heard one that wasn't on television. It's rattle was a lot louder than I expected it to be. I think we all just froze for a moment.  I looked over at Casha just as he began backing up.  Fortunately he was a safe distance away when he noticed the snake and was able to easily circle around it.  The loud rattling stopped after minute and I think we all felt more at ease.  We tried to prod it off the trail using a very long stick, but that only angered the snake and it began rattling again.  We decided to leave him alone and instead warn any other hikers passing through. 

We continued on and arrived back at Laurel Falls and packed up our gear.  It was time to go home.  We each had an amazing time and will hopefully do it again sometime.  My friend Josh is now in Thailand where he is studying martial arts.  Keep ceasing the day my friend.  And Casha, well he's probably having a beer at my bar right now.

Below is some more pictures.

Smallmouths and Beauty at Fall Creek Falls State Park

I love to fish.  I would do it every day (except for deer season) if I could.  I don't own an expensive boat and rarely fish lakes.  I've never liked the idea of putting a worm on a hook and letting it just sit there hoping for a passing fish.  Thats just not active enough for me.  My perfect fishing spot consist of running water, arduous hiking, seclusion, rugged wild scenery, and staying on the move from spot to spot.  I want to get lost in the untamed outdoors and interact with it's wildlife.  To me, thats fishing.  You can have your costly boat and catch record fish.  I would much rather go where there is breathtaking beauty and smaller fish.  Well, I found my nirvana in the heart of Tennessee's Fall Creek Falls State Park.

 

The first time I learned of this state park was about two years ago.  I went their on a camping trip with some friends.  When I first saw Fall Creek waterfall, I was floored!  The water gushes out of Fall Creek and into an emerald pool some 120 feet below (as pictured above).  The surrounding cliffs form a kind of semi-circle around the falls and is covered in lush greenery.  I later found out that it is actually the tallest waterfall in the eastern United States.  I felt as if I was in some far away land but instead was only two hours from Nashville.

We hiked to the bottom of the falls, followed the creek for short distance until it fed into another creek,  then turned right and hiked that rivulet.  No trails, no one else around, and the gorge was stunning.  100 foot bluffs with radiant green laurel that shot out of the rock lined either side of the chasm.  Huge boulders were encompassed by quick white water that reverberated off the gorge walls.  The tremendous pines that burst forth from the ground produced a pleasant aroma.  I was loving it already.

As we moved on I noticed that there were some deeper holes that could potentially hold fish.  I got ahead of the pack and approached the next section of Cane Creek quietly and slowly.  My instinct proved to be right. I observed two smallmouth bass darting off under an outcropping rock.   That was all I needed to see and vowed to come back and fish the stream.

Well it wouldn't be until this spring that I finally got to fish Cane Creek.  My time was limited however and though I caught some fish, I wanted to come back when I could take my time and enjoy the entire section.  Well that day was August  5th, 2008.

This time, I called ahead just to make sure we were actually allowed to do this crazy excursion.  They assured me I could but added that they didn't think we would actually catch anything.  My opinion differed.  So I called up a good friend, grabbed some very light tackle, and set off on adventure.

After a steep hike down to the base of Fall Creek Falls, we followed Falls Creek until it dumps into Cane Creek.  Its there that we find the first fishable hole.  My artificial crawfish hits the water and there's an immediate splash.  My excitement prompted a premature jerk of my pole and the fish was missed.  My fishing partner follows my lead and misses one too.  After a few more cast the small hole is fished out.  Those little bastards got the best of us.

As we approach the next hole, I cast from a good distance away to try and remain unnoticed.  It pays off as I land the first fish.  It is about a six inch crappie.  My friend hasn't done a lot fishing in his life and is intrigued by the rainbow of colors on the crappie.  I admire him as well and then throw the fish back into those cool waters.  

Next cast my companion lands the first smallmouth bass of his life.  He is ecstatic.  I tell him he has to kiss his first fish and snap a pic as he does.  The fish is about seven inches in size.  Average for the area.  No records got broken that day but that is not why we are out there.

  

 

Next hole gave me a fishing first.  As my lure hits the clear water I see two fish converge from opposite sides.  I tug on the lure and catch what feels like a very heavy fish.  As I'm reeling in I realize that I have actually caught both fish!  This time I'm elated and want a picture.  My sidekick calls me lucky but I jokingly tell him its skill.

  

By this time the sizzling southern heat is getting to us and we decide that it's a good time for swim.  A large boulder delivered a 4 foot drop into a 6 foot deep pool of clean, cold water.  We both jumped a couple of times and then chilled to take in the surroundings.  Quiet, secluded, and breathtakingly beautiful.

We continued along catching quite a few fish but nothing of any real size.  I couldn't accept this and knew their had to be some bigger fish.  We eventually came upon a hole that looked perfect.  It was deep, about 8 feet, and had a good current.  I switched to a top water bait because the smallmouth and crappie seemed to hit the bait more when on top of the water than when it was being reeled in.  My comrade did the same and caught a fat 9 inch crappie on his first cast.  

Then finally it happened.  I gave the popper a twitch right below some white water and splash! He was hooked and I knew right away that he was far bigger than anythings else we had caught all day.  After a good fight I pulled a nice 13 inch, 1 pound smallmouth to shore.  I learned a lesson in that moment.  The deeper the hole the bigger the fish it can hold.  My chum and I discussed this very matter over lunch.

We soon there after came to the end of our journey.  It's finale was quite epic.  A 50 ft waterfall called Canes Creek Falls.  Water ushers in from all sides forming a deep, green pool of water.  This area is very popular in the park and the Nature center is located just above the falls.  We take another dip and goof off below the falls.  

We are about to go when I tell my friend that I have to make just a few more cast.  I do so around the edges of the pool but with no luck.  I'm just about to give up when whoosh! My lure gets hit hard atop the water.  I set the hook and engage in what becomes quite the tussle.  

My ally dashes over to see what the commotion is about.  He quickly sees that I have something big on from the bend in my ultra-light and darts to the shore to help me wrangle him in.  After what seemed like an eternity, the fish is within arms reach and my fishing chum gets ahold of his mouth and hoists my trophy up in the air.  This smallie is about 17 inches and weighs probably two pounds.  For this creek, he is truly a dandy.  We snap a pic, I kiss my prize, thank mother nature for her opportunity and a good friend for his help, then release the fish back to his familiar waters.  

Worn out, we retired back to our campsite.  That evening we sipped some whiskey, ate a hot meal, and slept under a million stars.  It was an extraordinary adventure and one I intend to repeat every year.

For more information about Fall Creek Falls State Park check out http://www.state.tn.us/enviroment/parks/FallCreekFalls/