So with visions of catching such a trout in Crane Creek, Bud and I searched and searched for the stream. Finally we found what we thought was Crane Creek, only to find that it was about 2 to 3 feet wide and ankle deep. How could this stream possibly have made it into Trout Unlimited's Top 100? we wondered. While Bud went off to look elsewhere for Crane Creek, I decided to follow the tiny stream of water downstream in hopes that I was just on a small tributary of the real Crane Creek. About a half mile down, the tiny stream opened up into one crystal clear hole of water maybe 20 feet in diameter and maybe 2 to 3 feet deep. In the hole lay many large trout. I knew I would scare all these fish if I tried to get close enough to cast into the hole. Fortunately, there was a large tree overhanging the hole so I climbed up the tree and tried and tried, unsuccessfully I might add, to drop a fly into the pool. I must have spent at least 45 minutes trying to catch a trout with no luck. Frustrated, I walked back, found Bud, and asked how his search for the "real stream" had gone. Bud exclaimed that all he saw were rattlesnakes and he had soon given up the search! I never caught a trout, or any fish, in "Crane Creek" so I was not able to check it off my list. Later I wrote a short review of the Creek in my Top 100 book. I gave it a review of 0 out of 5 stars.
At Carol's insistence, I researched this stream while on this trip and found a number of recent videos of fishermen catching rainbows there. It's a spring creek, with very clear water, and a reputation for large trout that are very difficult to catch. I found the exact location on Google Maps and since the stream was just 20 miles or so off our planned route back home, we decided to detour so I could try again to fish Crane Creek and check it off my bucket list.
As we turned into the parking area where I positively knew the trout stream was supposed to be located, we noticed a dog lying in the leaves. Instinctively, we both knew the dog had been abandoned by a previous owner. It had the look of a pitbull, but was very friendly. Carol and the dog immediately bonded. I walked down expecting to see Crane Creek, but found only a dry creek bed.
This is Crane Creek?
While we were sizing up the nonexistent creek, the dog, and the regulation signs, a Missouri Conservation ranger drove up and asked us if we needed help. "Yes," I said, "Where is Crane Creek?" The ranger explained that, due to the geology, this creek can run underground when the water is low. "But if you walk upstream about half a mile or so you will find it running above ground again." Carol explained to the ranger that the dog had apparently been abandoned there and appeared to be a very nice, well-mannered dog. The ranger promised he would come back later--he had to "run some errands"--and if the dog was still there, he would take care of it.
This sign marked the first access parking lot for the Crane Creek Conservancy.
This sign explained that this creek was a catch and release only stream.
So Carol and I walked upstream, with the dog following us, trying to find the stream. After what we thought was half a mile, we found no water and stopped. The ranger had told us there was another spot further upstream we could drive to, where he knew the stream was currently above water. So we drove to that spot and came across a man on an ATV dressed in orange hunting clothes (there were numerous hunters out and about). While I walked the stream looking for trout, Carol talked to the hunter, who said he was also a catch-and-release fisherman and would take us back to the first place we stopped and show us where all the trout were hanging out. He promised Jack would be able to catch one there. He said he had recently caught a 20-inch trout from that hole!
Andy, the kind hunter/fisherman that showed us where the trout (and the water!) were.
Sure enough, we had not walked far enough upstream. While I rigged my rod, Carol, the hunter/fisherman, named Andy, and the dog walked upstream and found where the water started flowing above ground again. He showed Carol all the trout lying in a big hole. I met them on the way back and Carol snapped a picture of the two of us.
Carol, the dog, and I walked to the stream where I could see a bunch of trout lying and feeding on the surface. This time it was easy to find a place where the trout could not see me. I tied on a small caddis fly and cast it gently onto the surface. Immediately a small trout took the fly but got off. Another cast got a trout to look at the fly, but he refused. On the third cast I caught a 9-inch hard-fighting rainbow and released him. He stirred up the fish in the pool so I waited about 15 minutes before trying again. The friendly dog came down, drank water and sat beside me.
At the tail of the trout pool. I'm sitting down so the trout can't see me.
The dog lay down beside me.
First fish!
About to be released.
Before we left, Carol fed and petted the dog. He was a very nice, intelligent dog and we both felt sorry to leave him there. We toured and had a late lunch in the quaint little town of Crane. Carol called around trying to get someone with the authority to take the dog to a shelter. Apparently there's no animal shelter or even a dogcatcher in this county. The Missouri Conservation ranger said that "people abandon dogs here all the time" and "usually someone will adopt them." Carol shed a few tears over this dog--finally a ranger returned her call and said various people had been feeding him and one older man was probably going to adopt him, so she felt a little better. [Carol: I was thinking about turning around and going back 300 miles to get him. Still thinking about him. Nice dog.]
We spent Thanksgiving Day with Jack's sister Hazel in PA, at the nursing home where she's living now. The lunch was delicious (traditional!) and we had a good visit with her. Now we have one more fishing adventure ahead, in Maryland, before returning home to Virginia.
Hazel and Carol at our Thanksgiving Dinner