whitetailfreak
Senior Member
A cousin of mine who lives in Western North Carolina and I have been trying to coordinate our schedules for sometime and make a backcoutry trip into one of our favorite watersheds in the Smokies. His grandmother, like my grandfather was born and raised on Hazel Creek and lived there until being forced out by the creation of the GSMNP. This trip found us on a different creek, one that I have fished for 30 + years but somehow I felt like I was cheating on Ms. Hazel. I had to laugh as I looked back at my truck and saw my tag that reads "I'd Rather Be On Hazel Creek".
We began our 7 mile hike to camp in the Fir/Spruce forest and descended from an elevation of around 5500 ft. Flame Azaleas were glowing along the trail.
Massive Poplars tower over the cove hardwoods like an eternal guardian.
Although its fate is predetermined I still enjoy seeing an American Chestnut and thinking about what once was.
We have made good time and no rolled ankles. We've made it to the creek.
We make our way upstream and set up camp.
By this time the sun had disappeared behind the mountains and we were hungry. We quickly strung our fly rods and eased up the creek. We pack light on these trips and fried trout is supper everyday in the backcountry. Within an hour we had plenty for supper and some of the purdiest wild Brown Trout you'll find in the Park. We deviated from our typical dress and fry with the heads on and filleted our catch on a flat rock and in just a few minutes we were feeding on a plate of vittles city folks would pay good money for. I asked my cousin "wonder what the poor folks are doing?"
We stayed for 3 more days and did nothing more than fish, sleep, eat trout and sit by the camp fire. It was a good week where I saw few people and enjoyed catching up with my cousin. Hopefully we'll do it again soon.
We began our 7 mile hike to camp in the Fir/Spruce forest and descended from an elevation of around 5500 ft. Flame Azaleas were glowing along the trail.
Massive Poplars tower over the cove hardwoods like an eternal guardian.
Although its fate is predetermined I still enjoy seeing an American Chestnut and thinking about what once was.
We have made good time and no rolled ankles. We've made it to the creek.
We make our way upstream and set up camp.
By this time the sun had disappeared behind the mountains and we were hungry. We quickly strung our fly rods and eased up the creek. We pack light on these trips and fried trout is supper everyday in the backcountry. Within an hour we had plenty for supper and some of the purdiest wild Brown Trout you'll find in the Park. We deviated from our typical dress and fry with the heads on and filleted our catch on a flat rock and in just a few minutes we were feeding on a plate of vittles city folks would pay good money for. I asked my cousin "wonder what the poor folks are doing?"
We stayed for 3 more days and did nothing more than fish, sleep, eat trout and sit by the camp fire. It was a good week where I saw few people and enjoyed catching up with my cousin. Hopefully we'll do it again soon.
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