No, I am not a total hillbilly, but my wife often accuses me of it when I pronounce “creek” as “crick.”
It’s an old habit and half joke. A “crick” is nearly anyplace you fish. I once heard a guy wave toward the Pacific Ocean and say he caught his salmon “out in the crick,” which my friends and I found hilarious and perfectly aligned with our definition.
I say this because it’s now blazing summer, and it’s time to hit the crick in the mountains. River flows are dropping, and it’s time get where the water is cool and fish are feisty and gullible.
Don’t overthink it, just do it. Drive up a gravel or dirt road and find a stream with pools deep enough to wet your knee caps. If you see another angler, keep moving. This isn’t a social event. If you have cell service, keep driving until you lose it.
Extra points if you’ve never fished there, and bonus points if you don’t know the name of the crick. Subtract points if you take a selfie, post on your Facebook page or send a tweet about the crick you’re fishing.
Leave the waders at home. A pair of sneakers, sandals or wading boots will do. Plan to slip a few times, scrape a shin, fall on your butt and get soaked, then get up and fish some more.
Watch for rattlesnakes, and if you see one, consider it another bonus on your day.
Don’t expect big trout, so use light tackle and a flimsy rod that will make a 10-inch trout feel like a tuna. Use a stimulator or hopper, a small chunk of worm or a small spinner.
Wade up or down the crick. Only a rank novice angler sits in one spot all day. After you lose sight of the road and your truck, you’ve found the sweet spot.
When you’re casting into that perfect pool or riffle and caught a few trout, sit on a rock, listen to gurgling water, chirping birds, and just stare at the water.
Now you’re crick fishin’.