Which may be the reason they’ll be here long after we’re gone.

I rolled out of bed early Sunday, hoping for a repeat of last week’s bug fest, and to make sure it happened I left the dry fly box on the kitchen sink. It’s reverse logic – if I brought the flies nothing would pop – but if you forget them, hordes of the little buggers will be coming off.

As always, the odds favor the house.

I stopped at the Sex Pool to watch the Carp spawn, it’s an amazing display and four phalanx’s of fish were blowing hell out of the flat water. Each phalanx is a single female bullied by six or seven males – and they herd her up and down the creek, through rocks, brush, car tires, barbed wire and anything else in the way.

I waded out in their midst to record the action, figuring fish porn is popular, but the “good stuff” is worth money…

They were oblivious to me and I pounded the far bank for bass. I had replaced the missing “Manhattan Leech” flies – and needed to determine whether they were “all that” – or merely a fluke.

A big largemouth came out of the water with the leech in his gob, and two of the Carp squadrons were in proximity, he managed to tail walk into their midst sending everything scattering for cover.

I’m not sure which fish to watch as I’ve got two 12lb fish headed for my crotch thinking I’m cover. Instinct wins, I assume a deflective stance – the bass wraps the tippet around a snag and snaps it, and the “Nut Missiles” discover I’m a human and slam on the brakes..

I retreat hastily, the voyeur thing was fun but I can’t hang with the stress..

New fish are showing up regularly, and I assume they’re moving downstream to repopulate the areas scoured by winter floods. A lot of scarring is evident on the fish caught – suggesting they rode out the high water somewhere with better protection – but show the wear and tear from being buffeted about.

The creek bottom is covered in minnows – approximately the same age, not more than an inch in length. Great forage for the big fish that survived – these may be what I saw (and caught) last season in the 4″- 6″ size. The small fish stretches are still devoid of life, which is the one mystery remaining.

Any fish fool enough to get caught a second time gets a name, it’s part of the luxury afforded to “home water.” That really big Pikeminnow that swallowed the dry fly last week ate the leech this week. The reel screamed nicely and “Old Lacefin” was both pissed and chagrined. He’s got a nickel sized hole in his right fin – instantly recognizable to me – so I protected my nuts…

Fish hold a grudge – and after my earlier brush with Death, I flinched badly. The drab winter colors are giving way to their traditional hues, and anything capable of making my reel spin backwards is both pretty and welcome.

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