We intended mainly to fish the stretch just below the North/South Branch confluence to the dam, but it was dead, although Fred has never been skunked here before. His Mad River Canoe gave us full access, and also allowed us to paddle upstream. Before we abandoned good looking water, we fished rocks carefully in water as deep as eight feet, Fred with a Senko, me with an eighth-ounce jig and Berkeley Gulp leech. Fred has caught a lot of largemouths in this stretch, too, and a four-pound smallmouth.
We ventured well upstream into the North Branch, water much shallower, but three and four-foot depths yielded some bass, average stream size. I kept with my jig despite the shallows. One of the bass picked it up off bottom after I allowed a long moment. Part of these stretches about four feet deep gave me that subtle feeling of awe when you know a really good bass is possible. But possibility usually doesn't actualize. Nevertheless, give up on possibility, and it's all downhill and into the grave with regret.
We carefully observed a pileated woodpecker. You know, Woody the Woodpecker, those great, large birds striking as ravens, but more so for the red crest, white wing patches, and large, powerful bill.