Chapter 11- The River
Wells Creek to Westernville.
Discovery: Final Leg - 22-Mile Adventure
October 13, 2000 50 degrees, Sunny
Not a cloud in the sky. Trees ablaze with reds and yellows. Acres of
corn tall, tan and dry. A flock of geese flying overhead; so low we could
see each bird, black and white, against a deep blue sky. Temperature 50
degrees. A beautiful Fall morning in central New York.
This was the last section of the Mohawk River I
would explore on foot. With the exception of canoeing West Leyden Pond,
when this discovery trip was over, I would have walked the entire 22 miles
of river from its source on Mohawk Hill to Westernville.The rest would
be explored from a canoe.
Denny Gillen had joined me on all but one of these
discovery trips. We had discovered gorges, waterfalls, wildlife, wild things
and wildflowers. We had walked through forests and meadows, climbed cliffs
and studied ancient walls, bridges and farm implements. And we caught fish.
I had fished this lower stretch several times over
the years. My biggest fish was a 13-inch brown that took an imitation minnow,
but fishing buddies had taken several browns in the 20-inch class, not
to mention walleye and an occasional northern pike. I was familiar with
such fishing "holes" as the A-Frame Pool and Power-Line Run, but I had
never really explored this mile and a half section above Delta Lake.
Denny parked his car behind the Highway Department
building near Wells Creek and we drove down Route 46 to the Westernville
Bridge. While we were pulling on our hip boots in the brand new parking
area near the brand new bridge, a flock of geese came off Delta Lake and
flew overhead. It was 10:15.
At 10:30 Denny caught a full-colored,14-inch brown
trout. Just upstream from the run where Denny caught his fish, I cast a
red and gold spoon into a pool next to a pile of logs and trees. A 13-inch
brown took the bait. Not bad for a half-hour of fishing.
This full-colored brown trout was taken from a pool just
upstream from the new Westernville Bridge and Parking Area.
Denny took one more fish, a 12-incher, before we waded a section of
the river that runs behind a barn and silo and widens to a series of shallow
runs and riffles that provide little trout habitat. Fortunately---I explained---just
upstream was A-Frame Hole, one of the best in the river for trout and walleyes.
Unfortunately, this riverbend hole had been altered by man and nature.
What remained was a small pool and a long run next to riprap.
A foot-long trout followed my spoon and a plastic
jig produced a hit, but this fabled hole---across from the A-frame house
on River Road---didn't compare to the deep pool where I had caught dozens
of trout and some big suckers in the past.
Around the next bend, an oxbow was closed at the
lower end by a beaver dam built of mud, sticks . . . and cornstalks. A
pair of mallards flushed from this quiet water and deer tracks poked holes
in the shoreline mud.
Power-Line Run didn't look nearly as impressive
as it does in the Spring when the river is up. Nevertheless, Denny caught
a 12-inch brown and I managed to snag my lure on the bottom. When I crossed
the river and walked the bank on the south side to get my lure, I discovered
the secret of Power-Line Run. The bottom was covered with an assortment
of large rocks and logs laying next to an undercut river bank. No wonder
so many 20-inch fish were caught in this area.
Denny continued to fish the north side. I walked
the south bank until I came to a large island---river on one side, an oxbow
on the other. I chose the oxbow. At the upper end a big flock of wood ducks
jumped off the water and flew through the trees on the island. A magnificent
sight.
When I stopped to fish a pool at the upper
end of the island it was 1 o'clock. My gold spoon enticed a 9 and a 10-inch
brown from opposite ends of the pool.
When Denny caught up, we sat on a ledge in the shade
of hemlocks to quench our thirst. Denny had taken a couple of fish on the
other side of the island. He asked if I had fished the pool with the sheet
of plywood stuck in some downed trees. He had passed it up figuring I was
behind him on the river. When I told him I had come up the other side of
the island, he considered going back to fish that pool, but changed his
mind when he realized we were almost to Wells Creek, the end of our trip
. . . and lunch.
A fisherman was working a pool in the river just
upstream from the creek. Denny was ahead of me, so they were talking when
I walked up. Although I hadn't seen him since he was a youngster,
I recognized Jeff Fuegel because of his arms. Jeff was born with abnormally
short arms, but it has never kept him from fishing and hunting.
After we reintroduced ourselves, Jeff told us this
was one of his favorite trout streams and that he had caught several big
browns and rainbows here in the past few years. One rainbow was 20-inches
long. He fished with an ultralight 5-foot spinning outfit, loaded with
2-pound test line. His lure was a tiny ice fishing spoon with a small piece
of worm on the hook.
Jeff also noted he had taken a number of good fish
out of the pool where there was a sheet of plywood. Denny rolled his eyes.
Follow the path of this discovery trip by clicking on Mohawk Valley Maps: by Maptech.
Type Westernville, select New York, press GO!
Click on margin arrows to follow the path of the Mohawk River north to Wells Creek.
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