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Date: February 23, 2020 Body of Water: Lake Winnipesaukee - Meredith, New Hampshire; out of Leavitt Beach Park Moon Phase: New Moon Boat: None, Ice fishing With: Alone Target: Lake Trout Time: 7 AM - 2 PM Conditions: Calm, clear and bright, temperatures increasing from 15 to 46 degrees F; ice had about 4 inches of snow cover and was 12 - 14 inches thick. As I approached my exit on 93 North after 90 miles of moonless, pre-dawn driving, there was just enough light to support the mountains' silhouettes on the horizon. This served as a reminder of the beauty of my destination, Lake Winnipesaukee. With derbies near (Newfound Lake) and far (Sebago Lake in Maine), AJ's was out of smelt, even though I had arrived just a few minutes after their 6 AM opening. I left with an assortment of shiners, suckers and hair jigs. The lack of smelt diminished my confidence a bit, but I also knew that lakers were often not choosy when they were on the feed. I'd chosen Leavitt Beach Park as my access point based on recommendation of AJ's via the most recent report from On the Water magazine. It was a new destination for me, but it offered lots of promise upon my arrival. I'd already scouted the area on my Lakemaster mapping; I wanted to work the edge of a sunken island (topping out at 24 feet or so), out along a series of breaks to the main lake basin in about 100 feet of water. At first, I thought a shanty was already set up on top of the island, but once I gained my bearings and sense of scale, I realized that I would have my water of choice, all to myself. I quickly had my two traps baited with shiners and set near bottom in about 60 and 80 feet of water. As I watched my bait descend to the bottom in the 60-foot hole with my sonar, a fish clearly rose from the bottom to investigate the bait. I stood by, patiently, expecting my first flag of the day, excited about the possibilities. But, when the flag had not sprung after five or ten minutes, I wandered away to drill some extra holes. These ranged from 35 feet deep and out to an inside corner of the main lake basin in 99 feet. I sprinkled several additional holes in the 60-90 foot range, too. Despite my best efforts, it turned into a fishless day. I frequently substituted a jigging presentation for one of the tip-ups, and each hole was given plenty of opportunity to produce. I saw 7 or 8 fish on the screen all day. Most simply evaporated from the screen quickly; a few stayed on my lure for a bit longer. I teased one fish at least 15 feet off the bottom, and I was certain it was going to eat; but it didn't. A solitary suspended fish (maybe 40 feet down over 60 feet of water) stayed with my lure for a couple of minutes or longer before it drifted away. As far as I could tell, a fish never touch my tube jig, hair jig or flashy Hopkins spoon. The fish I saw seemed to be in a negative mood; as far as I know, on another day, at least some of them would have been eaters. What do I have to say about this? I think it was just one of those days; they weren't biting. I saw nobody else with any semblance of action; I overheard a few complaints from upwind; and the folks I came off the ice with had all been skunked, too. I think I was making reasonable presentations in a reasonably likely area. Maybe it was simply too darned nice out to be productive, at all. That said, I have no real basis for explaining away my lack of action. This was my first time out on Lake Winnipesaukee's ice, ever. I've got a lot of learning to do, and it looks like I will have to do that learning one trip at a time. At the very least, I learned that this is a viable day trip, on par with my Okemos-based adventures to Lake St. Clair. This area will definitely be worth learning! But New Hampshire has a boater's license requirement; and so, if I am smart, I will get that out of the way before open water season. It may cost me a day on the ice, but it will be an investment in my future New Hampshire fishing efforts. I've got some plans! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: February 16, 2020 Body of Water: Newfound Lake - Bristol, New Hampshire Moon Phase: 3rd Quarter - waning Boat: None, Ice fishing With: Alone, but A joined me as a spectator for the most active period Target: Lake Trout Time: 10 AM - 3 PM Conditions: Nearly perfect; calm, overcast and about 30 degrees F (+/- 2 degrees); ice had just an inch or so of snow cover and was 6 - 8 inches thick. With a long weekend scheduled, A and I planned a quick, overnight trip to the Lake Winnipesaukee region. While the main goal was to poke around, relax and plan for the future, ice fishing was definitely a possibility. On the morning of our departure, I was succumbing to a slow-developing cold, and I almost didn't bring my gear. I couldn't decide which was worse; the idea of ice fishing while not feeling my best; or not ice fishing, at all. I'm glad I chose to bring the gear, because despite the subdued pace of the trip and these fishing efforts, I ended up having one of my highest quality ice fishing experiences in a couple of decades. After visiting AJ's Bait and Tackle (ajsbaitandtackle.com ) in Meredith, New Hampshire and walking around Lake Winnipesaukee's Meredith Bay (a bit crowded and shallow for my taste), we continued to look for public access and safe ice. Squam Lake looked awesome, and I'll definitely return, but the ice at the access point was not safe; and so we wandered over to and around Newfound Lake. This lake seemed solid, with snow machines and permanent shanties in place; the public access at Wellington State Park was in full use, and trails on the ice ventured off in all directions. When I fired up my GPS with lake mapping, I knew that some prime structure waited within hiking distance. But it was now late in the day, I still needed bait, and so the actual fishing would wait until Sunday morning. The remainder of Saturday was spent relaxing, dining, scouting bait (there were smelt available at newfoundcountrystore.net ! Newfound Trading Post in Bristol to the south is a possibility, too) and admiring the astonishing silence of the Hebron, New Hampshire night. I hit the ice at the crack of 10 AM under seemingly perfect conditions. I'd secured the last dozen available smelt, the cold had relented, and temperatures would moderate at or above the freezing mark. It was virtually calm, and so chill was not a factor. The ice was safe, and there was a little bit of snow for traction. A dropped me off at the ramp and I began my march to the chosen structural element. About halfway, I stopped to chat with a couple of locals. They were set up in about 60 feet of water, but had no morning action to report. From this vantage, I could see that another small group was about where I intended to be, and so I continued my walk but stopped short at a quick drop where the bottom fell from about 40 feet into more than 60 feet of water. I jigged here with a perch-colored jig adorned with a small shiner; but in 15 minutes or so, saw just one fish on the screen. That fish vanished when I presented the jig directly to it. Given the known lack of success in this depth range, the fish's apparent negative reaction to my bait, and the observation that my competition was moving off my spot, I continued the walk to my selected area. Using the GPS and Lakemaster mapping as a guide, I "trolled" a path among the structure's interesting elements and laid down a series waypoints. At each waypoint, I drilled and cleared a hole. I soon had a trap set with a smelt pinned near bottom in 75 feet of water. Meanwhile, I bounced around other holes (generally between 40 and 70 feet of water) with my jig and shiner. My range of holes expanded from 15 feet to 96 feet of water as I sought some active fish. My sonar in the first couple of hours had revealed only a momentary glimpse of a single, disinterested fish. The fish were clearly neither shallow nor active. I moved the baited tip-up off the structure's edge and into the adjoining lake basin, using my deepest hole. That move paid off pretty quickly, with the first flag of the day at about 12:20 PM. As I approached the tip-up, I noticed the spool was not spinning, and the line seemed to go straight down. It looked like a false alarm or missed strike, but when I picked up the line, I could sense some weight; and soon I had a 20-inch laker to the hole. This was my first fish since October! And so, you can imagine my disappointment when the small circle hook came loose and my prize splashed in the hole. I chased her down the hole past my elbow, but to no avail; while I did touch her flank, she slipped my grasp and swam away. I'd have let her go, anyway, but I was still a bit empty inside, having flubbed my first chance in months. As A approached the area to join me for some fresh air, this same flag announced another bite, and soon I redeemed myself with an 18.5-incher. Like the previous fish, it had eaten a smelt presented about 18 inches off the bottom in 96 feet of water. My day was complete! This trap went off again at about 1:30 PM, while I was moving another tip-up to the same depth, but further east, off the edge but along the same underwater point. This laker was about 20 inches and likely the heaviest of the day. At about 2 PM, my second deepwater trap (now sitting in 94 feet of water) signaled a bite; another 18-inch laker came to hand. This same trap caught the last fish of the day, a lean 20-incher, just before my time was up at 3 PM. I walked off the ice, satisfied with my 4.9-for-5 effort. All fish ate smelt very near the bottom, and all of the bites came from the lake basin, as opposed to atop the structural features. I'd caught some fish, learned a bit, and felt good! What do I have to say about this? While the lakers were not large, they were legal-sized and the targeted species. Given the fact that this was my first time fishing this lake, I can't rightfully expect to do much better, or to demand more from the lake. And, in fact, I knew before the first flag flew that it was among my best ice trips, ever. The lake was beautiful, the conditions were uncrowded, I was positioned in a spot of logical choice, I had prime bait, the conditions were comfortable, and it was simply soothing to be participating in this chase. The fish themselves simply provided a bit of much-appreciated positive feedback and served as a basis for improvement. Because, I shall return to this gem of a lake! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: February 2, 2020 Body of Water: Mystic Lakes and Mystic River below Amelia Earhart Dam Moon Phase: First Quarter, waxing Boat: None - shore fishing With: Alone Target: Largemouth Bass (?) Striped Bass (?) Time: 9:30 AM - Noon Conditions: 35-40 degrees F; mostly cloudy; water as cold as can be without ice The Calendar says it's mid-Winter, and Punxsatawney Phil said just this morning to expect an early Spring. But local conditions continue to be seasonally confused and pose a challenge to local angling opportunities. Any local ice is certainly not safe; but many shore locations are indeed iced in. I decided to try a couple of new-to-me, open water spots as I continue to scout my new neighborhood. Mystic Lakes When I found out my new address would be Arlington, Massachusetts, among the first features I noted on maps were Upper and Lower Mystic Lakes and the adjacent State Park. Among the first informative websites I encountered was the Mystic River Watershed Association's page for the annual hearing run (mysticriver.org/herring-monitoring). My thoughts included that striped bass should certainly follow these herring. This has since been confirmed by multiple contacts at local tackle shops; there will be stripers available within a mile of my new home, at least seasonally or sporadically. While my hope for encountering holdover/wintering stripers here might be based on slim chance, the odds of largemouth bass, pike, white perch, yellow perch or others being present made the prospects for success ever more positive. And, I figured, all these fish, if present, would likely eat a blade bait slowly dragged across the bottom. As I approached Lower Mystic Lake, I was stunned to see it almost completely iced over. Fortunately, there was a generous swath of open water below the dam that allowed me to fish. I was joined by a pair of bald eagles resting in a tree overlooking the dam. They were here for the same reason; the prospect of catching a fish from open water. But, other than the presence of the eagles, there was no sign of fish in the half hour I spent crawling my blade baits along the bottom. When I lost my second bait of the morning, I decided to relocate. Mystic River below Amelia Earhart Dam at Draw Seven State Park My next planned stop was further downstream on the Mystic; below the Amelia Earhart dam and locks, where stripers would be the primary quarry. I spent more time here, combing the clear water with a 4-inch white paddle tail swim bait. The tide was near-low (www.usharbors.com/harbor/massachusetts/amelia-earhart-dam-ma/tides/ ), and no fish were encountered. This spot certainly holds potential as the first bottleneck encountered by any fish moving upstream. I'll definitely return; I was just a few months too early (or late!) What do I have to say about this? Once again, I was skunked; but I'm learning as I explore, and both of these spots warrant further consideration. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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