Just Enough Action to Keep My Spirits Up

I got a chance to sneak out on Sunday after the kick off picnic for Vacation Bible School.  Hayden and Luke have that every night this week.  So far, they love it.  Back to Sunday night.  I got to the river at around 7:00.  I had no bait in the livewell, so my first mission was to catch a few suckers and rock bass.  I struggled at first, but finally found the suckers in some skinny water.  The depth finder read just 3 feet.  I quickly caught a couple and then headed up above the elbow to catch a few rock bass.

I was set up for flatties by 9:30 with a tub full of cut sucker and 5 or 6 rock bass in the tank.  I spent my first hour on that “perfect” spot just above the elbow.  Nothing was going on up there and the bugs were so thick I was breathing them in, so I decided to motor down to the big basin above the bridge where I anchored in 9 feet of water.  I dropped a rock bass right under the boat and threw the cut sucker straight back on one pole and out to my left into the middle of the river on the 3^rd rod.  It was that rod that came to life first.  I noticed the end of it twitching, so I moved into position where I could grab it quick if the fish committed.  It finally grabbed the bait and flew down river at 90 miles an hour.  The clicker was singing like a choir boy.  I knew that it was a channel cat.  I had a huge piece of bait and an 8/0 hook on this rod, so I didn’t hold out much hope that I’d hook up with this fish.  It ended up dropping the bait and scurrying away before I even attempted a hook set.  

I decided to skip the clicker and leave the reel engaged when I put the rod back in the holder.  Before too long, it got jumped on again.  This time it was bouncing violently and I was pretty sure that the fish had hooked itself.  I gave it a good jerk anyway and went to battle with a heavy fish that was flying all over the river.  When the fight ended, I hauled what I think was about a 9 or 10 pound channel into the boat.  I've hit 8 pounds several times in this part of the river, but have never topped it.  This fish looked bigger, but not quite as big as the 11 pounder that I caught earlier in the year down by the bayous.  I don’t know for sure because my battery died in my scale and I didn’t want to make the fish sit in the boat while I dug through my tackle box to find a replacement.  I took the above picture and released the fish healthy.

My only other action for the night was a very small flattie that ate the live rock bass.  I’m amazed at the size of bait a small flattie will take.  It makes me think that a grown flattie will eat a pretty good sized redhorse.  If I catch a one to two pounder next time out, I may just put it out on a 10/0 hook instead of cutting it up.  It might improve my personal best.  I’d be ecstatic to get above 30 pounds.  Might be a pipe dream.  There are probably a few over 30 in there, but there can’t be many.  The only way to find out is to put in my time, so Lincoln and I are going to catch some bait tonight and I’m hitting the river again tomorrow.  I’m still waiting for the big boys to wake up.  Hopefully tomorrow I’ll find them on the feed.  

Best Laid Plans

Yesterday was Luke’s big day to go fishing with Mort and I.  He was hugely excited and went to bed with a big smile on his face the night before.  I knew that the fishing was just  a small part of the excitement.  He was going to spend the night at my parents and then the next day with my cousin’s son, Colton.  The two of them don’t get to see each other nearly enough, but they are great buddies.

My plan for the evening was to spend most of the time still-fishing around the bridge.  I knew that Luke would want to see a lot of fish and this kind of fishing always produces big numbers.  I got an e-mail from my dad when I was at work.  He was letting me know that he wouldn’t be able to fish, but they were still planning on having Luke overnight.  No problem.  Luke and I got to the river by about 4:00.  I figured that he would like to start with a boat ride, so I put him in my lap and headed up river.  When we got almost to the elbow, I cut the engine and started getting my rods ready to troll for some walleye.  Before I could even get them set up, Luke announced that he was “pretty bored.”  I didn’t pay it much attention, thinking that he’d be fine once the boat was moving again.  We trolled around and did a little casting.  We weren’t able to pick up any fish, but I did notice a jointed Storm lure slapping against the shore.  I picked it up and Luke immediately claimed it as his.  He assured me that he’d let Lincoln play with it too.  I hadn’t even mentioned Lincoln.  I was thinking more about fishing with the darn thing.  I relented and took the hooks off for him.  Playing with the lure kept Luke occupied, but he continued to say that he was bored.  I had a pretty good idea that he was just excited about going to Grandma’s and Grandpa’s.  I gave them a call and set up a time to turn him over. 

Luke and I trolled a little bit more while we waited for the grandparents.  We managed to pick up a baby flathead.  It was another one of those gross, blotchy looking ones.  I wonder if they all look like that up to a certain point.  We picked up a smallie just before the grandparents showed up.  I sent Luke on his way, happy as a lark.

There were quite a few boats out when I headed back up river.  I went right back up to the stretch below the elbow, but I had only made one trolling pass before another boat showed up and joined me.  There isn’t very much water there and I was in the mood for some solitude, so I dropped back down to a relatively deep section not far down river.  I hit a couple of my hotspots on the way and picked up a few more smallies.  No size to them.  I trolled until dark and didn’t pick up anymore fish.

For my night fishing, I set up over a hole that was 13 feet deep just up from a big downed tree.  One of my lines got snagged up just about as soon as I dropped it in, so I unhappily cut it and retied.  I was completely set up by just after 9:00.  At around 10:00 I got my first hit.  I set the hook and reeled up an average sized channel.  I had gotten lucky and set the hook up through the bottom of its jaw.  I’d be interested to see just how that happened.  It took until almost 11:00 to hook up with my first flattie.  Just a dink.  It hit on the rod behind me and didn’t move the spool one notch on the clicker.  This caused me to be a little slow to get to it and it ended up swallowing the hook.  I tried that through the gills hook removal method that you sometimes see in outdoor magazines.  It worked nicely.  That little guy is going to have a stomach ache for awhile, but I think he’ll live.  I was still in my first spot when I checked the clock and found it to be after midnight.  I started packing up my stuff when I talked myself into trying one more spot.  I moved down from the elbow and dropped anchor in 10 feet of water on a flat.  Too bad I hadn’t just gone home.  No bites.  I finally pulled up the anchor for the last time at a little after 1:00 and buzzed down river, dreading having to get up for work the next day. 

I don’t know what is going on with the flatties.  Terrible thoughts are going through my head like maybe they have been fished out.  I kind of doubt it because there aren’t too many other guys targeting them.  It is rare to see other boats out after dark.  I do still think that it could pick up.  I’ll blame last night on a cold front and spike in the barometric pressure.  I’ve got some sleep to catch up on before I give it another go.  

Back In Action

Michelle graced me with an extra evening of fishing last night.  After dinner and a little time with the family around the house, I headed to the river and dropped the boat in at about 7:30.  I talked river fishing with a guy who was dropping his boat in when I pulled up.  I think I converted him to a cat guy.

I've been keeping my creek chubs on an aerator in a 5 gallon bucket in the basement.  I checked at a pet store and found this magical stuff that neutralizes chlorine in tap water.  It works wonders.  I switch the water everyday and the chubs stay just as healthy as can be for weeks at a time.  I even dropped a few leaf worms in there and found that they had eaten them overnight.  I may just pick up some fish food.  Next it will be an aquarium.  One thing that I did notice is that the fish bleach out after awhile in the bucket.  I'm not sure if it's stress or just because they are stowed away in the dark.  Despite their pale appearance, they are just as strong and healthy after a couple of weeks as the day that I pulled them out of the creek.  All that to lead up to the fact that I had some 2 week bucket bound chubs in the livewell, but most were on the small side and I wanted to start out catching some more bait.  I tried a few different spots about halfway up to the elbow, but nothing was too interested in a crawler.  After awhile I decided that I'd just trade out my 10/0 hooks for 7/0's and fish the chubs.

Remembering the guy who caught the big smallie on  a frog my last time out, I grabbed a bass hook and my Ribbit frogs.  I only had two.  I fished them around a few snags without stirring up anything when I remembered a nice eddie down at Bear Creek.  I motored down and drifted into place even with the creek.  Nothing showed itself in the heart of the mouth, but I got a good swirl when I dragged the frog across that eddie.  I threw the frog again and it got snatched up immediately.  I set the hook and pulled back nothing but limp line.  It must have been a pike.  I stupidly tied on my last frog and dragged it back across the eddie.  The pike pounded it and tore off one leg.  On the subsequent cast it tore off the other leg.  The third time I threw out that crippled frog, the pike grabbed it and once again left my cut monofilament flapping in the wind.  I had a crawler harness on a different pole, so I hooked up a chub and dragged it through there a few times.  The pike ignored it.  I finally decided to tie on a Jitterbug.  On the first cast I saw a swirl about 8 feet away from my bait and then the pike porpoised on it and dragged it down.  It was a 30-incher, but it was pale and skinny as a snake.  I skipped the picture and released it strong.

With the sun setting, I scurried up river and set anchor just up from a huge snag that sits right on the elbow.  It was quiet for a good hour and then just as the moon was clearing the line of trees to the north, I got a hit on one of my rods.  It was a little flattie.  I released it, hooked on one of two rockbass that I had managed to pick up, and dropped it just behind the boat.  It got hit immediately by the twin of my first fish.  I didn't even have that rod back in the water before another rod got thumped and started bending.  This one was bigger, but not much.  I had apparently set anchor over a flathead nursery.  I waited around another hour for mama to show up, but she didn't make an appearance.  I spent one more hour near the bridge, but it was a waste of time.

It's good to see that the flatheads are turning on again.  Tomorrow night Mort and I are taking Luke out.  He and Mort will fish the before dark portion of the night with me, and then I'll get back after the cats.  I brought the kids to the park tonight and loaded up on some big chubs.  Here's to hoping that they get munched by monsters tomorrow night at about this time.