Chapter 12 - Tributuaries
Fulmer Creek - Mean and Lean
Fulmer Creek is notorious. When ice builds
up at the bridges and snowmelt fills the creek beyond capacity, it floods
streamside neighborhoods in the Village of Mohawk. Invariably scenes of
piles of ice and rushing water, and interviews of irate landowners appear
on the 6 o'clock news. The rest of the year Fulmer doesn't get much press,
and 9 out of 10 people can't remember which German Flatts village it flows
through. Too bad because it has other faces . . . and surprises.
It's hard to believe this is the same stream that floods the Village of Mohawk every year.
Fulmer begins as a trickle
in the hills south of Little Falls, flows south towards Paines Hollow,
turns northwest to Edicks (2.3 miles) and Days Rock (4.4 miles) before
making a 4-mile descent to the Village of Mohawk (8 miles) and the Mohawk
River (9 miles). For much of its length it runs side by side with Route
168 until it crosses Route 28 at the south end of the village. From there
it flows through backyards and under side-street bridges before passing
under the Main Street Bridge and easing into the river.
Like most Mohawk Valley tributaries,
Fulmer was a millstream, providing waterpower for a variety of processing
and manufacturing facilities. It was also a convenient place to dump human
and industrial waste. Back then Fulmer was not a good place to visit or
to fish.
Today Fulmer Creek runs
clean for most of the year. Unfortunately, during the summer, it also runs
lean: low, warm and oxygen deficient. Consequently, it's a put and take
fishery, providing good to fair fishing in the Spring when DEC stocks it
with several hundred brown and rainbow trout. Some of these fish survive
in a few deep holes and runs, providing hit and miss action throughout
the season.
While shallow, warm water
is not good fish habitat, it does offer an opportunity to explore the creek
in relative comfort and safety. Thus far I've explored two sections, discovering
shale outcrops and cliffs, glacial deposits of gravel and boulders, wildlife
and wildflowers, and a variety of manmade structures designed to contain
rushing water.
Just for the record, a recent
U.S. Army Corps of Engineers study estimates it will cost over a million
dollars to alleviate the flooding in the Village of Mohawk..
Discovery: Drowning Was Not an Option
June 6, 2003, 62 degrees, Partly Sunny
This discovery trip came about as a direct result
of almost drowning in Caroga Creek earlier that morning. Perhaps that is
a slight exaggeration, but our attempts to explore a section of the raging
Caroga gave fresh meaning to the word "chicken." Slippery rocks under foot
and rushing water almost to our butts spelled impending disaster, so we
sought the more hospitable waters of Fulmer Creek.
With Dale's car parked near the Route 28
bridge at the south end of the Village of Mohawk, we began our upstream
trek at 11:30 a.m. at the Mohawk River. We couldn't raise a fish at the
mouth of the creek or along the riprap near the new Route 5S Bridge.
Considering recent development---bridge, access
roads and sewage treatment plant---I was surprised to discover a variety
of vegetation, including buttercups, forget-me-nots, phlox, plus willows
and boxelder. A kingfisher fussed at our presence and inadvertently revealed
there were fish in this stretch of the creek. At 11:50 Dale caught
a rainbow trout from the pool below the remnants of a stone-arch bridge.
As we approached the Main Street Bridge in the Village
of Mohawk, three young boys, carrying fishing rods and worm containers,
walked the creek bank, headed for the river. Worms were sure to produce
more than lures.
Near the bridge, the creek was channelized between
stone walls and riprap. The bottom was mostly algae-covered cobble. For
the most part the water was spread out and shallow. However, next to the
riprap it was fairly deep, providing some nice runs. Didn't catch anything,
but Dale discovered a dead rainbow.
As we waded past creekside homes, a dog heralded
our intrusion, and a duck and her ducklings scurried upstream. They were
too far away to identify, but at 12:30 at the mouth of a small tributary
on the left side of the creek, we discovered a merganser with 19 ducklings.
When I searched my pack for a camera, I discovered I had left the cameras
in the Jeep. No matter, I've never been good at taking wildlife photos.
Just upstream, willows hung over a fairly deep pool.
I side-armed a gold Phoebe under the willow branches and hooked a fish.
After a brief struggle it shook free. Not to be deterred, I repeated the
cast---successfully avoiding those lure-eating branches---and hooked another
fish. Lost it too. Then I was deterred.
Dale likes to fish the runs and pockets, but I look
for the big pools. So while he meticulously worked the nooks and crannies,
I waded upstream looking for pools. At 12:45 I discovered an outcrop
of shale and followed it to the best pool I had seen thus far. It was located
between a shale ridge on the right and a home on the left. I caught four
rainbow trout from that pool. And when Dale caught up he caught a couple
more.
We climbed out of the creek near the Route 28 bridge
at 1 o'clock. All things considered not a bad morning, and a darn sight
better than drowning in Caroga Creek.
Discovery - "The Blue Car Caper"
August 13, 2001 70-80 degrees, Sunny
With
Dale's van parked near a bridge two-miles upstream, we started our adventure
at the parking area near the junction of Route 168 (Creek Road) and
Route 28. When we waded into the creek at 8:15 a.m. there was very little
water, revealing boulders, deposits of rock and cobble, shale outcrops,
and stone retaining walls.
We fished the holes and runs near
the stone walls without success.
Purple loosestrife, goldenrod
and yellow touch-me-nots grew streamside, as did maple, poplar, sumac,
oak, basswood and sycamore. Wildlife was not deterred by the
nearby road or homes and trailers, as evidenced by deer tracks in the mud
and gravel. One mud bar revealed the distinct tracks of a doe and fawn.
Generally, the topography
consisted of shale cliffs and gravel slip banks on the right, and stone
walls, boulders and riprap on the left.
We passed under a bridge at
9 a.m. Concrete abutments supported steel girders covered with railroad
ties. Wooden 2X4 guardrails ran the length of the bridge, indicating a
limited-use bridge leading to a private residence.
Upstream---shale outcrop on the right, mobile
homes on the left---granite rocks and boulders sat atop the flat-rock creekbed.
Strange looking, multi-legged caterpillars literally covered some of the
rocks. Never saw anything like it before or since.
Around
9:30 we passed a big sycamore and followed the creek as it turned away
from the road. Along this stretch deer tracks were abundant. Just upstream
from a pipe crossing, an island had created a pool that looked fishy. Par
for the course that morning, no hits, no follows.
By 10:45 it was hot and humid,
and with so little water to wade in, we started to feel the heat. I started
to wonder if this trip was worth the effort. The shade of a big cottonwood
and a bridge helped some. The blue car helped more.
Soon after passing a little trailer, we discovered a faded blue car imbedded in rocks on the opposite side of the creek. I told Dale the run next to the car probably held fish. While he fished the run and crossed the creek to identify the make of the car, I cast a gold spinner to an upstream pool . . . and caught an 11-inch rainbow trout. Dale called that incident "the blue car caper" or something like that.
While I was explaining to Dale the finer points of catching trout in a stream with no water, we encountered a man and two boys (young men) cutting trees and hauling them to the other side of the creek. When the older man saw the New York Sportsman emblem on my cap, he identified himself as a longtime reader of the magazine. When I told him my name, he expressed condolences regarding my wife's passing and regrets that the magazine was no longer published. Further conversation revealed his name was Dick Watkins, that he had lived along the stream for 38 years, that a trolley used to come up through the valley, and years ago there was a mill and furniture factory along this section of the creek.
While Dick and the boys returned to their work, Dale and I continued upstream, passing a tributary on the right . . . and discovering a school of yellow minnows. I have no idea what they were.
Just before we wrapped things up at 11:15, Dale caught a rainbow from the pool under the highway bridge near where he had parked the van. Just for the record, it was a small rainbow.
Tom Stilwell provided this photo of the Henderson Station on the
Mohawk to Oneonta Trolley Line. It was located near Jordanville.
Note the distance to Oneonta and Mohawk on the sign. Incidentally,
Tom's grandfather was the station master in the early 1900s.
Follow the path of this discovery trip by clicking on Mohawk Valley Maps: by Maptech.
Type Mohawk , select New York, press GO!
