Cabin Fever

I am experiencing a serious case of cabin fever that I think I might not overcome. I guess I could be out squirrel hunting, but the weather has been horrible up until this week. I have tried fishing a few times with little luck. On the Kentucky Afield fishing reports the officials always seem to tout fishing below dams this time of year for sauger and walleye. A couple of weeks ago I headed out to Meldahl dam in Bracken County to give it a try. I had never been there before, but I had always heard great things about the fishing there. The Kentucky Afield magazine had done a feature story on it not too long ago. It was a pretty mild day and I left my home in the early hours with just a sweatshirt and light jacket to break the wind. The drive out route 8 was very pleasant. You can see all of the old farms along the Ohio River in various states of decay. When I see an old barn moldering in an old pasture being taken over by saplings it always makes me think of the family that used to live and work there. What happened to them? Did the bank take their farm? Did they bet on tobacco when the price of corn was going high?

I almost drove right past the drive leading back to the parking lot. The parking area looked like it received a lot of traffic, but there was no one parked there this particular morning. I headed down the trail to the river. The lock part of the Meldahl dam is located on the Ohio side of the river. The Kentucky side has no boat traffic then and is fairly calm. The dam has a good deal of water flowing over it this time of year anyway, which makes it pretty much a bank fishery. The bank this morning was slick and covered with ice. The fog rising up from the river had coated every surface in a slippery layer. I tip toed my way down to the edge. The area closest to the bank does not have any water flowing over the dam, so the water is fairly calm in about a 100-yard square. I cast all morning walking up and down the bank at different points. I lost a lot of baits in the rocks, but did not even get a nibble. I fished mostly Mister Twister grubs, but also cast a few Rooster Tail in-line spinners to no avail. A local showed up a few hours in and said the fishing had been very slow. I fished an hour more and decided to call it a day. By that time I had about a half dozen guys all around me. There is very little regard in this type of fishing for personal space. Everybody pretty much fishes right on top of one another. The final insult was the pile of some brown material near my truck that I am surely hoping was of canine origin.

This past week the creek near my house started to rise from all of the melt water. We have just gotten over a big snow and ice event in Kentucky and have had some welcome warmer weather. The creek is pretty small, but as it nears the Ohio River it widens into a small basin between Oak Street and Route 8 in my small town of Ludlow, KY. The basin has very steep, slick banks that are a real hazard to traverse even if there weren’t broken beer bottles, old shopping carts, and other debris to work around. Next to the Oak Street bridge, the creek drops down a small waterfall. Along one side of the waterfall is a hardened concrete flow where trucks must have dumped their extra concrete for years. It reminds me of a lava flow on a Hawaiian island. At the bottom of this flow is a place to stand and cast into the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. I had fished it for the first time last year and caught several nice eating-size sauger, walleye, and even a very confused white bass. When the Ohio River is near flood stage, it backs up the creek into this basin and the fishing gets pretty good. This past week I guess the water wasn’t right. The reason the water was up in the basin was not because of the Ohio being high, but the creek, which must not be as enticing to the fish to move up the creek. I will have to try it again soon. I am always keeping an eye out for this temporary fishery with hopes of another wonderful sauger dinner. This past weekend though, my wife and I could only enjoy the soothing sounds of the rushing water. If you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were along some mountain stream instead of just down the street at our ghetto fishing spot.