Wednesday:

This was the day to pay homage to B*g S*nt**tlah (and pay homage I
did). On my way I missed the turnoff and wound up driving a bit on the
Cherohala Skyway, continuing up to Hooper Bald and driving literally in
the clouds before turning around and spotting the proper turnoff for the
creek.

Scoped the water a bit, and parked about a mile above Stewart Cabin,
with the plan being to work upstream past the car as far as I could go,
look for an exit and walk back down to the car via the road.

The stretch just above the cabin produced fish in the expected
places, with the biggest being a stocker about the same size as the
rainbow I had caught at Br*dl*y F*ork. But that was where the
similarity between the two ended. Rather than tailwalking, the stocker
sort of thrashed about on the surface a bit before giving up. Also, his
coloration was sort of a dull gray without the distinctive stripe of the
wild fish.

A bit further upstream I had another strike, but this guy took to
the air immediately, and showed bright sides. Unfortunately, he was
LDR'ed before I got to see what it was. It wasn't too far above the
cabin, and I'm not sure if there are supposed to be any wild fish in
there, but this one acted much wilder (and looked brighter) than the
stockers I had run across.

The day was going wonderfully; there was a bit of a trail in spots,
and the rocks weren't hard to negotiate, plus there were plenty of
productive pools and runs. At the point where a feeder stream came in
on the right, I crossed to stay with the main fork and on the way
spotted a large boulder with a sweet-looking plunge-pool below it. It
looked ideal for providing a bit of cover for a dap or two.
Unfortunately, as I was crossing towards it, a rock gave way under my
foot and I landed *hard* on both knees on the next boulder.

After the cursing died down, I ascertained that nothing was broken
(including my flyrod), but there was a dull throbbing pain in both
knees, and the left one (my "good" knee) was starting to swell. At that
point the plan to get to the boulder was abandoned as there was a deep
and fast stretch that would need to be negotiated, and my shaky knees
were likely not up to the task.

However, I didn't retreat; instead continuing upstream to try to
ignore the throbbinh in my left knee. I was just approaching the really
pretty water Jeffy had described (scaleable aterfalls and plunge pools)
and really wanted to fish it. But after a while it became apparent that
any hope I had of being stealthy was gone, as every timee I tried to
knell or crouch I was reminded of the knee. Plus, there was no way I
could clamber up rock faces with only one functioning knee.

Figuring sometimes discretion = valor, I looked for a way out.
Still below the car, my choices were to either retrace my steps and have
a long uphill hike to the car, continue upstream following the creek, or
try to get out and up the hill where I was us. The first two options
didn't appeal to me, so I headed towards the hill. After thrashing
through the grabber-biter-eaters, I had to cross a semi-dry creek bed
that separated S**nt**tla*h from the hill.

The hill was steep, but it looked like there was a bit of a path
angling up to the top, if my felts could get traction on the mud an
leaves. Fortunately, there were enough tree roots and branches that I
was able to pull myself up. When I reached the top, my knee didn't feel
any worse than it had rock-hopping (it didn't feel any better either).

The spot where I came out was only a couple of hundred yards below
the car, and ironically was a spot I had passed by as being too steep
for access. :-}

Back at the car I had the best-tasting beer I had ever had (once
again), and assessed the damage. Both knees were scraped, but the left
was the only one with signs of "structural damage". I drove on the the
Kilmer/Little S*nt**tl*h area to get a look at it, and even made a few
casts, but the creek was too tight for me to do any proper fishing given
the knee. What a gorgeous area Kilmer is! Poplars rising so high you
can't even see their tops, and the creek itself is sublime.

To salvage the day I hit the Cherohala to do some sightseeing.
Despite the fricking suicidal motorcyclists (what must it be like on
weekends?!), the drive was pleasant and the views were outstanding.
(http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/cherohala02.jpg)

I had almost forgotten how stunning the Smokies are. I've psent
quite a bit of time in the Rockies recently, and I love them, but the
lushness of the Smokies is imcomparable.

Made it back to the cabin by 5:00, bruised, battered and wondering
what was in store for the next day. Only two more days, and still
haven't made it to Hazel, Noland, Little River, Deep Creek, etc. (Yeah,
I know.) And now a bum knee to worry about.


Chuck Vance