Danuwoa
Redneck Emperor
It’s hard to believe this summer will soon be over and with August upon us it will be singing its final verses. If you’re like me, there were things you intended to do during these months of long daylight that remain on the to do list. Lots of work on my hunting land is patiently waiting on me. And I can’t feel the approaching deer season in the air yet but my eyes are turning in that direction with anticipation. We are here to talk about fishing though and this is a rambling about my trout fishing trip to the mountains in Rabun County last weekend.
There are few things I enjoy more than that cold mountain water. And Rabun County is one of my favorite places. An earlier summer fishing trip to the mountains with friends from right here on GON turned into more of a just fun hanging around together trip. That’s not a complaint. I had a great time. But I try to make at least a couple of fishing trips to the mountains every summer and I was overdue. We’ve had a rough summer at my house. And I needed to break away and get in that cold water and catch some trout. But the fish themselves were almost an afterthought or icing on the cake. I probably should have known things were not exactly breaking my way when my buddy who I had planned the trip with sent me a text late on the afternoon the day before we were supposed to leave to tell me he was going to have to bow out at the last minute. Vehicle problems. I was disappointed but understood and told him we would plan another trip. I had also invited my cousin and my buddy’s last minute bow out actually solved a problem as far as how we were going to ride. I had been rear ended at a red light in Blue Ridge the weekend of the earlier trip that I mentioned and my truck was in the body shop. Like I said this hasn’t been my summer. Now it would be just two of us. My cousin arrived at my house a little late but he was driving so I didn’t gripe. Soon we were loaded up and on our way to the mountains. I was excited. It had been too long. And I think he was excited too. He’s a good bit different from me. Not a big outdoorsman. But does enjoy fishing. He said somewhere between Americus and Macon that he looked up Rabun County and saw that it gets more yearly rainfall than any County in Georgia. He said it in a somewhat baleful tone. I said that was right but it was going to be fun.
I chose a campground that another fishing buddy and I had used before outside of Clayton and sort of between Warwoman Creek and the West Fork of the Chatooga River. We got there after a four hour drive and had barely stretched gotten the truck unloaded when a little shower of rain came in. This seemed dampen my cousin’s spirits even more than the surrounding ground and plant life. I ignored that and thankfully we had gotten a quick shade canopy up first thing and stood under it waiting for the rain to stop. Once it had, we made camp and grabbed our fishing gear and headed for Warwoman. We went to spot suggested by someone here on the board. He hardly had the truck parked and I had bailed out and stepping on rocks along the creek bank and into the water. The cool of the creek was welcomed feeling. My cousin immediately hooked a tree on the opposite bank from his spot and fussed over it as I was making my first cast. He seemed determined to be put out by something but him and his messed up chi might as well have been in another time zone as I could feel an internal alignment taking place. The achievement of my true north if I’m being high brow and esoteric about it. Or to describe it as I would if I was sitting around a fire with you, all was right with the world now and I was where I wanted to be. That’s all for now.
There are few things I enjoy more than that cold mountain water. And Rabun County is one of my favorite places. An earlier summer fishing trip to the mountains with friends from right here on GON turned into more of a just fun hanging around together trip. That’s not a complaint. I had a great time. But I try to make at least a couple of fishing trips to the mountains every summer and I was overdue. We’ve had a rough summer at my house. And I needed to break away and get in that cold water and catch some trout. But the fish themselves were almost an afterthought or icing on the cake. I probably should have known things were not exactly breaking my way when my buddy who I had planned the trip with sent me a text late on the afternoon the day before we were supposed to leave to tell me he was going to have to bow out at the last minute. Vehicle problems. I was disappointed but understood and told him we would plan another trip. I had also invited my cousin and my buddy’s last minute bow out actually solved a problem as far as how we were going to ride. I had been rear ended at a red light in Blue Ridge the weekend of the earlier trip that I mentioned and my truck was in the body shop. Like I said this hasn’t been my summer. Now it would be just two of us. My cousin arrived at my house a little late but he was driving so I didn’t gripe. Soon we were loaded up and on our way to the mountains. I was excited. It had been too long. And I think he was excited too. He’s a good bit different from me. Not a big outdoorsman. But does enjoy fishing. He said somewhere between Americus and Macon that he looked up Rabun County and saw that it gets more yearly rainfall than any County in Georgia. He said it in a somewhat baleful tone. I said that was right but it was going to be fun.
I chose a campground that another fishing buddy and I had used before outside of Clayton and sort of between Warwoman Creek and the West Fork of the Chatooga River. We got there after a four hour drive and had barely stretched gotten the truck unloaded when a little shower of rain came in. This seemed dampen my cousin’s spirits even more than the surrounding ground and plant life. I ignored that and thankfully we had gotten a quick shade canopy up first thing and stood under it waiting for the rain to stop. Once it had, we made camp and grabbed our fishing gear and headed for Warwoman. We went to spot suggested by someone here on the board. He hardly had the truck parked and I had bailed out and stepping on rocks along the creek bank and into the water. The cool of the creek was welcomed feeling. My cousin immediately hooked a tree on the opposite bank from his spot and fussed over it as I was making my first cast. He seemed determined to be put out by something but him and his messed up chi might as well have been in another time zone as I could feel an internal alignment taking place. The achievement of my true north if I’m being high brow and esoteric about it. Or to describe it as I would if I was sitting around a fire with you, all was right with the world now and I was where I wanted to be. That’s all for now.
And you need to get your butt up here one weekend when it starts cooling down.
