On a cool day in June, Thomas Champeau was ankle deep in the Yellowstone Prong, a high-mountain creek near Brevard.
Champeau was fishing for the elusive Southern Appalachian brook trout, which love the cool water here at 5,000 feet above sea level. He stepped lightly, casting his line into the calm pools.
“Your approach has to be low, quiet, and so it's a little bit like hunting ‘cause you're kind of stalking as opposed to just fishing blindly,” Champeau said, as he moved from one smooth rock to another.
All around, the mountain laurels were blooming. This landscape – combining solitude and recreation – draws millions of visitors to the region annually.
Champeau helps to lead a local chapter of Trout Unlimited. As a former biologist, he’s trying to help anglers understand the fish’s climate sensitivity – and how storms like Helene have changed the trout habitat.
“It's amazing how those big rocks have moved,” Champeau said. “I mean, rocks bigger than a refrigerator have been pushed around.”
Trout is big business in Western North Carolina, bringing the region $1.4 billion per year in tourism revenue. But they’re also sensitive creatures, especially the threatened native brook trout. They like cold, clear, rocky streams. Trout, and fishing more broadly, are deeply tied to Western North Carolina’s people, culture, and economy. Hurricane Helene damaged a lot of streams, squeezing both trout and the businesses that depend on them.
Where Champeau stood, the high-elevation stream saw minimal disruption from Helene.
Downstream, though, communities and trout weren’t so lucky.
Historic floodwaters in late September pushed aside everything in its path. Bankside shade trees were wiped out. Without shade, the water warms up, which is dangerous for coldwater fish. And that affects not only the little trout but also the big fishing industry here.
Outfitters and guides are hurting
Kevin Howell runs Davidson River Outfitters, a well-loved gear shop for anglers.
“Born and raised in Transylvania County, grew up here, fished the river my entire life,” Howell said.
He makes his living off his deep love for and long-time knowledge of the local waterways.
Helene hit his business hard. Anglers couldn’t access some streams because of fallen trees.
“We did lose our two busiest months of the fall as far as income,” Howell said.
Some fishing guides just had to take other jobs.
Howell was hopeful as cleanup began, and federal debris cleanup contractors started work. But many of these contractors have caused concern for local residents, as they’ve been observed taking down trees and rolling heavy machinery up riverbeds. Clearing all that storm debris affects the rivers and creeks too, and Howell worries it has slowed recovery in myriad ways.
“… Adding to the sedimentation and adding to the warmer temperatures, which again results in less fishable water and less fish and less habitat,” Howell said.
That means fewer opportunities for tourists. For example, in the summer, trout fishing is catch and release only in some waters since the fish are so sensitive. But if the water is already too hot, a trout might go belly up after the release.
“We had to make the decision today to stop fishing at noon because in the afternoons it's getting to 68 degrees already in June,” Howell said. “Which is very early.”
There are many other heat-tolerant, less sensitive fish than the brook trout, like the rainbow and brown trout. These trout were introduced to the region in the early twentieth century, and – together with logging and development – these species displaced and destroyed native trout habitat. These days, when non-native trout are released, they’re not released in high-mountain brook trout habitat.
However, one hatchery in the region was damaged by Helene, and another, in Transylvania County, is awaiting upgrades after damage from a previous storm. There’s also the bass, which Howell usually helps people find when it’s too hot for trout. But Helene washed the usual access points for bass fishing away.
Essential to Western NC way of life
Western North Carolina’s relationship with fishing, particularly the native brook trout, stretches back to its indigenous history.
For the Eastern Band of the Cherokee Indians, the tribe’s identity and economy are intertwined with the fish, as well as nonnative trout, said Mike LaVoie, EBCI’s Natural Resources Director.
The tribe encourages anglers to fish during its annual fishing tournaments. Fishing brings the tribe $93 million per year, with about 45,000 visitors annually, LaVoie said, much of that from permit sales.
An economic study by a firm called Responsive Management showed that trout fishing supported about 700 jobs on the Eastern Band of the Cherokee's tribal land. While most of this revenue is from brown and rainbow trout, the tribe is careful to protect its native brook trout population; they don’t stock fish in the headwaters in order to avoid conservation conflicts.
EBCI has initiated and partnered in a number of studies and climate resiliency plans to assess how future climate impacts could change the region and the fish that much of the economy depends on. Storms, fires, and heat are changing the composition of the forests on the Qualla Boundary. One study at N.C. State University, conducted in partnership with the EBCI, showed that brook trout could lose up to 92% of their habitat as streams warm and extreme temperatures cause storms, tree disease, .
Streams, LaVoie said, are still recovering, not only from hurricanes Helene and Fred, but from extreme logging and the taking of land from the Cherokee people.
“Cherokee have always viewed the river as a long person, so it was an embodied identity and given human attributes,” LaVoie said. “There's just centuries of reverence and respect that was given to the long person based on Cherokee science really. It's all about understanding how to live within that landscape and waterscape and how to ensure that that remains healthy.”
How angling moves forward
Local businesses and governments still need the tourists who come to fish and pay for lodging, dinner and riverguides.
Tamika Hunter, with the Brevard Chamber of Commerce, said recreation is still possible.
“We're open (for tourists while) being sensitive to those who are still suffering,” she said while in her office at the Brevard visitor’s center. Many tourists, she says, wrongly assume the county’s rivers and mountains are totally destroyed. But without the economic bedrock of tourists, more people will lose their jobs.
“Our economy here depends on our tourists. So we need them to come,” Hunter said.
Outside her door, brook trout swam in a tank – their future intertwined with the future of the local community.
Back out on the Yellowstone Prong, Champeau waved to a few of those much-needed tourists who were fishing on the opposite bank.
Champeau had a few close calls, but nothing bit that day.
“But you never know!” Champeau said, packing up and walking back through the creek towards the trail. ”That’s why they call it fishing and not catching, right?”
More than likely, he’ll be back soon to his favorite spots to try again.
