Wissota Wonders: Paint Creek still has poetry, even after Meier

Last modified: Monday, September 22, 2008 7:42 PM CDT

Wissota Wonders: Paint Creek still has poetry, even after Meier

By MARK GUNDERMAN
mark.gunderman@lee.net

The legendary editor of the Herald-Telegram, the late Holly Meier, was known as the “The Poet of Paint Creek,” as a reference to where he lived as well as how he wrote.

I don’t know if I can attain the lofty title of “poet” in my humble career, (how does “The Muckraker of Mermaid Bay” sound?) but there are times of the year when I could be said to “live” on Paint Creek.

As a fishing spot, I hit it more consistently two to three years ago before its production dropped for me. But it remains one of my favorite spots on the lake.

I was driven up there initially by the heavy recreational boating activity on the small lake. Put another way: the big wakes chased me up there.

Paint Creek is a slow-no-wake zone from the Reiter’s Bridge upstream all the way.

Allow me to digress and dwell on that point a moment, with a tip of my fishing cap to the resident on the south side just past the no-wake buoy who put up a much-needed NO WAKE banner. There seem to be a lot of people with one or both of the following misconceptions:

First, that the “no wake” sign on the bridge marks the beginning of the zone and the buoy marks the end of it. Not so. It’s no-wake all the way up until you run out of water. As a matter of fact, it would be no-wake even without the postings, since regulations make any area close to shore no-wake. Paint Creek is so narrow you’re always within 100 feet of shore.

Second, “no-wake” means “slow down.” No, it means “NO WAKE.” That is, you shouldn’t be leaving a wake any bigger than a canoe or kayak would.

Most people seem to understand these principles, but too many do not and go up Paint Creek too fast. I have complained to the Sheriff’s Department boat patrol.

But when the lake is busy, calmer water can be found on the creek, and a few very interesting holes, some of which I am not about to publicize.

The fishing aside, I love Paint Creek because it is beautiful. It’s much more developed than it was in Holly Meier’s day, even more than it was 10 years ago. Still, for a feeder water into an suburban lake, it has something of a wilderness quality.

One of those qualities is the intimacy. The shallows and the deep holes are close enough together that a fisherman can work both with little effort. The structure is highly visible, and sometimes “hands-on.” On many occasions, I have steadied the boat against drift by holding a branch with one hand while flip casting with the other.

One of the marvelous things about waters is how they change. Golfers through a season will notice how the groundskeepers move the holes from one side of a green to another, or how the rough may be longer or shorter. That’s child’s play. On the water, trees that stood majestically at shore one weekend may be in the water the next. Fallen trees with branches sticking out above the surface in spring may be totally submerged, holding big fish and snagging traps in the summer.

These changes take place all over the lake, but are concentrated in the intimacy of the creek. This past week I found before first bend two spots with freshly fallen trees or branches in the water, with leaves still clinging. Noticing the changes, and learning to adapt to them, and use them, is part of the adventure.

And often the wonders of Wissota are concentrated in the small area. In the early morning on the lake, when the water is ordinarily calm, the rising sun catches the tops of wakes and bounces the light off the trees on the shore, making lines of light swooping across the shores. On the creek, the same effect can be seen on the rock cliff faces, only much closer.

This past week as I was fishing near first bend, and saw the light dancing on a rock face. It looked like reflecting raindrops stirring the water, but the day was clear, and I looked closer to see what reflection the rock face captured.

Before I could figure it out, a couple of kayakers came by, leaving only their gentle waves. The light caught those waves and the raindrop effect of the rock face washed into swirling bands of light dancing across the rock.

The fishing was decent, especially for a mid-afternoon. Some walleye and perch — which are getting a little bigger on Wissota — were biting on and off.

But the dancing light on the rock face and the growing early color of the leaves in a setting more intimate than the expansive waters past the bridge were themselves well worth the price of admission.