Murky

A couple weeks ago the only fishable stream in my neck of the Catskills was the Little Beaverkill, running along Route 212 between Mt. Tremper and Willow.

It was chalky but not the color of Yoo Hoo, which describes the entire Esopus watershed post-Irene.

So I went over yesterday to get one last whack at the LB, a stream I cannot recall ever fishing. The NY state general regs trout season ended Oct. 15; the Esopus season runs through the end of November, and maybe it will have cleared up some by then.

Alas, the couple of reasonably productive spots I had found on the LB were the same coffee with cream color as everything else. I wiggled a bucktail through some of the bigger pools just for the hell of it, and got one strike.

Then it started to rain some more.

I drove upstream to see what I could see, and voila — there was a giant exposed chunk of hillside, and the source of the muddy, clay-ey water.

So I dropped some wet flies in the swollen but at least semi-visible pools and was rewarded, as I was two weeks ago, with some skinny and bewildered-looking browns.

Next season I shall fish the Little Beaverkill more. There is pretty good access via state easements and several places where the stream is far below or far away from the road, and I bet the pressure in there is minimal.

Note: After six or seven weeks the Boiceville IGA is back in business. The bad news — they didn't have Gifford's "Moose Tracks" ice cream. But it's very good news for residents — Kingston or West Hurley are a long schlep for groceries — and for the folks who work there.