Larry A. Smail's Blog

Crooked Creek

Having been sick for quite a while due to asthma and allergies, I savored this morning plan to head for Cochran’s Mills for some fishing. I was traveling along old Route 359 (Garrett’s Run Road) when I noticed a car that seemed familiar. In an instance I searched the rear view mirror and saw  something else that appeared familiar.. my dear friend, Randy Tost. Of course, I stopped and immediately backed up and spent some quality time talking. (at least thirty minutes worth of quality time.) 

Randy was opening a gate to the Heilman Lutheran Church’s Cemetary. He told me of over fifty tombstones being pushed over in the past. The gate helps keep individuals out of the area at night when the likelihood of such actions increase.

Crooked Creek was beautiful this morning. I feared the water may be high due to rain. I found the water slightly colored and a bit fast, but otherwise fishable. I spent a number of hours walking about casting for whatever specie of fish cared to bite. I saw a number of carp in the twenty inch category, but apparently worms were not on their menu this morn. By the time I quit fishing I had caught and released four smallmouth bass; one largemouth bass; one bluegill; one horny-headed chub and one channel catfish. I had one fish that was very big and actually cut my line. I guess that one would be considered the “one that got away!”

Doe with a deformed ear.

I had seen a number of deer during the jaunt. The peace and solitude is just what I needed. This area always delivers those important things of life. Another aspect of this morning was the nostalgic memories of the area. I have spent many hours along this creek. I remember, as a boy, when the waters of Crooked Creek ran orange with no fish life. Presently, the waters are clean and clear. A great accomplishment! Of course, I have many memories of my father and I here as well as my cousins. We always had enjoyable times along the waters of Crooked Creek.

As a history enthusiast, I visualised the early natives and colonists drifting along in their canoes or dugouts. I, also, thought about the many people who had lived here at Cochran’s Mill prior to the dams being built. Life goes on!

A 12 inch largemouth bass