Where Time Stops

Time moves fast. Every moment seems to pass by faster and faster than the one before. New distractions are always at our fingertips: one buzz and you are linked into a whole virtual world. We daydream of far-off places, wondering how we could ever match the experiences posted by everyone else. Counting the reasons why our life isn’t following the same ‘perfect’ path that we see on our screens. So caught up in trying to manicure our lives that we never stop to live our own.

There is beauty in disconnection. Wonder in the unknown. An excitement in accepting that there isn’t any one path. There is contentment in doing exactly what makes you happy, no matter how crazy people may think you are.

So here I am. Staring up at a limestone bluff. A lush, deciduous forest bursting with life above it. Below trickles a slow, wandering creek. It follows the low spots of the rock bottom. On rare occasions, it narrows, creating deep holes teeming with life.

Unnamed Creek

There I stand. A four-foot collapsible fishing rod in my hand. A hook so small, reading glasses are required to bait it. An image belonging in a kids’ book: a man so obsessed with fish he would search even the smallest puddles. The truth is each of those puddles are magic. The longer you look into them, the more life you can see. Creek Chubs scurry about, fighting one another for any scrap of food. The other minnows mine the bottom, searching for the rare morsel that escapes the chubs.

Creek Chub

These scavengers are careful. They graze around each tiny rock. When you are still, you can get lost seeing the small schools systematically search each quadrant of the pool. Watching in amusement, my curiosity gets the best of me. I drop my comically miniscule hook to the bottom. The minnows scatter. (A reasonable response for a creature on the bottom of the food chain.) I leave the bait resting on the bottom. They feed in a pattern, and I know they will return to this area soon. I carefully watch my hook as the minutes pass. The first brave minnow returns and finds my bait. The tiniest tug on my line and suddenly I’m happily holding one of these bottom-grazing beauties. A quick glance and I recognize a familiar face. It’s a Bluntnose Minnow! They are thriving in the creek this year.

Bluntnose Minnow

My curiosity isn’t so easily sated. The occasional ghost of a larger fish dances around the Bluntnose Minnows. This fish is different. I stand there huddled over the creek, dropping my bait down over and over again. Pulling up one Bluntnose Minnow after another. I’m starting to question my sanity when a silver flash happens as my bait drops. Could this finally be it? A small, silver fish wiggles at the end of the tiny hook. I don’t recognize the fish. It’s something new! My 107th species of fish caught on hook and line. The Silverjaw Minnow!

I sit on the sand beside the creek and smile. Life is simple here. It is a place a where two-inch fish can make a person’s day. The sound of singing birds surrounds me, harmonizing with the babbling creek. A vibrant forest breathes. Time has no meaning in a place like this.

Silverjaw Minnow

A Blue Jay flashes, letting me know I have over-extended my welcome here. I wade down the creek. I walk slowly to see what minnows will make themselves visible. Creek Chubs dash left and right. The Bluntnose and Silverjaw Minnows retreat to the deepest pools as I pass. And then I see something unique and pure. The creek narrows to a foot wide. A single pool the size of a basketball cut into the rock floor. The water rips through here. A perfect habitat for an amazingly unique fish. I get down on my knees and shade my eyes with my hands. At first, all I see is the water rushing over smooth brown rocks. I focus harder. An odd, triangular shape points out of a crack between two stones. There it is. The queen of this creek. The humble Spottail Darter, perfectly camouflaged. This tiny pool is thriving. Darters are resting on the bottom against the rocks, just waiting for a snack to wash down. A wee insect floats down and one zips out from the bottom, the meal vanishing in a heartbeat. I get my fishing rod back out. How could I pass up such a perfect opportunity? My little hook touches the water and a darter shoots out of the rock. A quick picture and it is back safely.

Spottail Darter

Content with the time spent wading in the creek, I make the slow walk back to the car. The distractions of the ‘real’ world can’t touch me here. I smile as the Blue Jay scolds me one last time. One last long look at the limestone bluff. The trees a vibrant green contrasting against the blue sky. I close my eyes. One last deep breath of the pure forest air, imprinting every detail of this place until I return.

Tight lines,

-Isaac

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Pigeon Creek: Southern Indiana’s Most Misunderstood Creek

Pigeon Creek is a fairly large creek that runs through a small section of southern Indiana before flowing into the Ohio River. For a lot of its history it has been known for being a heavily polluted waterway, and that view of the creek really hasn’t wavered in the area. There have been some improvements in the water quality of the creek, but I’ll be the first to admit this creek still has a long way to go before I’d ever consider consuming fish from it. That being said, the improvements made on this creek have made it one of the hidden gems of southern Indiana. This creek is often overlooked by anglers because of the stigma that this creek is terribly polluted, but I’m writing this article to try to get you to reconsider this waterway.

Pigeon Creek
Pigeon Creek during low water conditions

This creek has always offered good fishing year round, it just takes a little bit of searching to finding the places worth investing the time in. My favorite time of the year to fish it is in the late fall when the water levels have dropped very low and the pools are very obvious. The deeper pools always seem to hold fish, but the more interesting features to me have always been the runs between riffles, or the eddies formed by fallen logs in the current. These places tend to be overlooked by any of the few other anglers that venture along the creek. If you ever see me at the creek it will often be waded out in the riffles exploring spots like this to find new species.

Wading the creek is not only relaxing, but gives you access to some species that most conventional anglers won’t catch. As you all should expect by now, this does mean I will be doing some microfishing in this shallow water and any good eddies I can find. You can’t seem to fish any body of water in Indiana without first coming across the humble Bluegill.

After catching a few small Bluegill, a new species found my bait! To my surprise this was a species I didn’t have on my list yet: the Emerald Shiner. While these are an incredibly common fish, I hadn’t ever put the time into finding a place to catch them. So that was an excellent surprise!

Soon after that little fish I found a familiar face, a little Mimic Shiner! This has always been the main base forage species I’ve observed in the creek.

At this point I had lost count of how many Mimic Shiners and Emerald Shiners I had caught from the creek and was starting to give up on finding any other cool species in the eddies. On one of my last casts into the eddy something different found my bait. I was elated to find a Bluntnose Minnow (a species I had embarrassingly misidentified on my list previously)!

With this boost of confidence I fished that spot a little more and found another familiar face: the Spotfin Shiner. For some reason I forgot to take a picture of it in by the water, but I do have an image from my photography tank.

I figured for the sake of having an accurate sampling of the minnows I should also spend a little bit of time checking out the local topminnows/livebearers. I was secretly hoping I would find something new, but I think I knew better. As expected the local populations were Western Mosquitofish and Blackstripe Topminnows.

Knowing my luck with the minnows was starting to run out I switched over to a size 16 fly hook and baited it with a small piece of worm and explored around in hopes of finding the sunfish that I knew had to be around. I was astonished that one of my first finds was actually an Orangespotted Sunfish! I had never sampled one from moving water before!

After this happy surprise I went on the search for a Green Sunfish. This stretch of creek has some rock formations that provide some excellent hiding places. And it is no secret that Green Sunfish like to hide in places they feel hidden so they can ambush anything that passes by. It only took dropping my bait by a few rocks before I had a bite.

After catching a few more of his friends, I started the search for the bigger and more colorful species of sunfish. I already knew Bluegill lived in this creek, but I wanted a mature specimen for a picture so I waded for a while and found a good population of them. Eventually luck was on my side and I hook into a solid Bluegill, surprisingly the big ones were more willing to hit small cutbaits than worms.

While searching for the Bluegill I had another less common catch, a Redear Sunfish. While it isn’t really a surprise that they would be here, I had never heard of one being sampled here before.

This brings us to the main reason I love creek fishing, this creek has a very strong population of Longear Sunfish. One of the prettiest sunfish in my humble opinion. It was hard to pick just one image to include in this post, but this smaller fish did the best justice to the colors that these fish have.

This creek has always been known to hold great numbers of Channel Catfish, and I can assure you that is still true. On my wading trips I’ve lost count of the number of juvenile catfish I have caught. The bigger ones tend to show themselves typically when it is least convenient. In my case after having two of my micro fishing hooks stolen! I rigged up a stronger setup and put a bait back in the same place. Before you knew it I was battling a decent Channel Catfish.

Along with the Channel Catfish this creek will also hold Flathead Catfish this time of year. I was lucky enough to cross paths with a micro version of this species while drifting worms in a deep pocket right before some riffles. I can assure you there are much larger specimens in this creek, but this was by far the coolest one I’ve come across yet.

The final species that you expect to catch this time of year is the Freshwater Drum. I have a true appreciation for this fish, and am always happy to catch one (they force you into learning to detect very subtle bites, or you risk gut hooking these fish often). Along with the typical small Freshwater Drum you’d expect to find, I did manage to hunt down a few of the larger specimen (large being relative to this creek).

This creek holds many different species depending on the time of year, we haven’t even touched on the Blue Catfish that you’ll find in the spring or the amazing gar fishing that can be had in the summer. There are so many amazing species in this creek, and so few people are even willing to explore it. Hopefully this post will help change a few of your minds about this wonderful place.

I want to leave you with one final image, because sometimes a picture is worth more than words. If this creek was really so bad, why would a fool like me be this excited to be standing in the middle of it? I think the smile on my face every time I’m here would make a solid case in defense of the creek alone.

Longear Sunfish
Even on a very chilly late October day this creek still manages to bring a smile to my face

Tight lines,

-Isaac