The weatherman forecast an
east/southeasterly wind for all week. This could have been better
news because the water I wanted to try would be tough to fly-cast in
a strong east wind, not to mention that “fish bite the least”
thing. A few days before I was early on a lake and enjoying the
sunrise stillness but catching nothing along the shoreline I was
casting to. The surface temp of the water read a cold 47-48 degrees,
which I supposed kept the smallmouth down in the depths and mostly
inactive. All too soon the wind picked up enough to form whitecaps so
I put away the fly rod and moved the boat out to catch a few walleyes
for the pan with spinning gear. I've caught walleyes with the fly rod
before and I even tied a special streamer for them using a lock of my
daughter's blond hair. The circumstances were just right and not
something that can be counted on. Walleyes are typically a deeper
water proposition and when I'm doing it I always have a fly rod in
the boat and will aim for a shallow rocky shoreline when I see it.
I'd been looking at a
particular bay for years. It's called a bay because it's apparently
part of the larger lake it's connected to by a channel, but it would
appear to be a little lake in it's own right. A third of a mile wide
and a mile long, it lies near the end of a 15 mile twisted and hilly
dirt road that I was in charge of maintaining during my working days.
It always looked like pike water to me but I'd never fished it. There
is a decent boat ramp on the north side and talking to some locals I
heard it was, indeed, a shallow and weedy bay that was home to mostly
waterfowl, beavers, and northern pike. Sounded good to me.
It was calm and the water
glass smooth when I pushed my boat off the trailer. The sun was just
breaking over the treetops and I figured I should have a couple of
hours before that predicted east wind showed up. My plan was to
target pike because John, a friend who guides south of here, has been posting photos of pike on social media and I figured to get in on the fun – so my two rods were rigged with streamers at the end of
wire bite tippets. A foot-controlled trolling motor moved me along
the shoreline as I fired casts towards the bank. A hundred yards from
the landing, facing a sun that put a glare on the water even my
polarized lens couldn't handle, I made out a swirl in the weeds and
the fish had my fly! It wasn't the biggest pike I've ever seen but
full of fight before I reached overboard with pliers to release it. A
good start to a good day!
An osprey didn't agree
with my method and showed me how it was done, hitting the water and
coming up with a fish like it was easy. For the osprey it probably
was. Three eagles put on an aerial show chasing each other around
with swooshing wings and that chircking sound they make. A beaver
slapped it's tail at me suggesting I go somewhere else. I turned to
see a big pike roll the surface and flip it's tail clear before
sliding under. Of course I fan-cast at it with no result. I hooked
some others but nothing all that large. I missed some strikes, too.
These pike know how to use their teeth and are hard on flies. About
halfway around the bay my chartreuse/white streamer was pretty ragged
looking with one eye missing and half the tail gone. The largest of
the fish I caught hit thirty inches, but I saw two much
bigger pike so I know they're in there. That last, and largest pike provided a neat take when I tossed a streamer to the outside
edge of a bed of lily pads. The pads parted eight feet away and the
wake to the fly nearly had me pulling it out of the water before the
fish got to it. The ensuing fight had me believing it was a much
larger fish than it turned out to be, taking line from the reel
several times (I have a line cut on my finger) in it's short but
powerful runs.
After I took the boat
around the bay I steered it into the half-mile channel leading to the
main lake. It was lunchtime by then and I was hungry. I'd earlier thought I'd fish a few hours and go home for lunch so I'd only brought my big insulated steel cup of coffee, which was long gone. But the day was too nice to stop then. Yes, I should know better by now. I can't remember all the times I've went out early for a couple hours fishing and ended up dodging deer in the twilight hours on the road home.
There's enough depth in the channel to run the outboard motor but the ominous looking boulders just under the surface remind you to go slow and keep your boat in the middle. The wind picked up when I entered the lake but rather then coming out of the east, it was a west wind. I aimed the boat at a promising looking bay and minutes after starting the bow-mounted electric motor I was hooked up to a feisty smallmouth bass. The water temperature was warmer at 58-64 degrees in the rocky bay but only that one bass took the deerhair popper. The bass seemed to hold just off the rocky shelf in deeper water. As much as I prefer topwater bass fishing, my success increased when I switched to a weighted crawfish pattern and intermediate line.
There's enough depth in the channel to run the outboard motor but the ominous looking boulders just under the surface remind you to go slow and keep your boat in the middle. The wind picked up when I entered the lake but rather then coming out of the east, it was a west wind. I aimed the boat at a promising looking bay and minutes after starting the bow-mounted electric motor I was hooked up to a feisty smallmouth bass. The water temperature was warmer at 58-64 degrees in the rocky bay but only that one bass took the deerhair popper. The bass seemed to hold just off the rocky shelf in deeper water. As much as I prefer topwater bass fishing, my success increased when I switched to a weighted crawfish pattern and intermediate line.
The wind did switch around
to the east and after hours casting and controlling the boat it
became more of a chore than I wanted, so I just motored across the
lake to another promising looking bay out of the wind where another
nice bass was hooked minutes later. Perhaps it was my imagination
after a long winter but this fish, too, fought strongly and felt
bigger than it was. I also spotted a very nice campsite on the shore
with a sandy boat landing – another benefit of exploring this new
water, and a place to remember.
This spring I've tied up a
number of deerhair poppers and some different style divers I'm eager
to try. This corona virus thing has everyone confused about where to
go, and when. There's a lot of water around here and local fishing is
easy to come by, but I have some favored fishing holes several hours
away. I've had to cancel one trip to Canada because of the closed
border. The Covid cases are rising here in MN and there's a few cases
reported not all that far from home, and these are younger folks. I
can't blame the Canadians closing the border. I'm lucky to live a
lifestyle where isolating is somewhat commonplace but still, it
doesn't hurt to be careful. Whatever you think about it, whatever you
believe, I hope you stay well. And good fishing!
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