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Date: April 27, 2019 Body of Water: Lake St. Clair (LSC) Boat: Numenon With: Alone Target: Smallmouth Bass Time: 11 AM - 5 PM Conditions: Clear and 45 degrees with NW winds about 15 mph, but diminishing to 10 mph or less. Skies clouded over as temperatures rose to about 50 and the wind swung through the westerlies to settle in at SE at about 10 mph. Water was surprisingly clear (6 feet, +/-) and green. I decided to squeeze the trip between the Small Craft Advisory ending at 10 AM and the Winter Storm Watch for the evening. I suspected it was against my "better judgment", but I succumbed to my motivation to start my LSC Season in April. Conditions proved to be more favorable than I could have expected or wanted; and, I found some fish! I was super-pleased to find the water at my first stop (The 400 Club) to be very clear, but green. It was the first clear water I'd encountered in fishable depths as I ran across L'Anse Creuse Bay from the Harrison Township Metropark facility. Both the Clinton River and the cut-off were pumping volumes of mud into the lake, and the wind had really been kicking for the last 36 hours or so. Since I've never done well with LSC bass in dirty water, this was a relief! The water was also a bit warmer than I'd anticipated; 49 degrees. Conditions were perfect for jerk-baiting, which is my preferred method of locating active smallmouths. The wind was blowing pretty well from the NW, but I was in the lee of the shoreline, and boat control was not an issue. I completed three drifts from about 6 to 12 feet of water without any sign of fish. Jerks and rattle-baits had been completely ignored, as had the Ned Rig that I dragged from a rod holder as I drifted. I decided to run down to Gaukler Point and the Edsel Ford House. I've had spotty success there in the past; for me, this area has proven to be momentarily hot or simply stone cold. But, I knew that there is quite a bit of rock structure in the area, and if I didn't find fish elsewhere, I was going to end up there, anyway. Why not get the run over with and work my way back north as necessary? While there had been just a few boats near The 400 Club and I passed several in the Twelve Mile area as I motored south, there were quite a few (a couple of dozen or so) working the stretch from north of the Grosse Pointe Yacht Club to the 9 Mile Tower. The water looked appealing, as it was just slightly more stained than the water I'd just left. I was confident that there should be bass in the area, and I had just set up my first drift when a nearby boat hooked up. Since they appeared to dragging tubes, I put down my rattle-bait search lure. I couldn't quite give in to the slow tedium of tubes or Ned while I still sought my first bass of the trip, so as a compromise, I switched to a Heddon Sonar blade-bait. I'd scratch the bottom while still actively casting and searching, if only at a slower pace than I could with a jerk or crank. It didn't take long at all for my rod to go "mushy". I swung and confirmed the weight and movement of a fish! It hit the net and scale; exactly 2.5 pounds of April Smallmouth! She'd hit in about 10 feet of water. My initial goal for the day was complete at about 12:30 PM; I'd found and landed a legal-sized brown bass. Now, I could comfortably move on to my secondary goals of securing a virtual limit of five legal-sized bass and/or catching a large bass. When I caught a twin just a few minutes later in slightly shallower water (8 feet or so) on the same bait and presentation, either of those secondary goals seemed likely. But then I went cold. I switched Ned out for a gold and black hair jig I'd tied a few seasons before. On a 1/16-ounce lead head and buoyed by bucktail, I envisioned this morsel slowly and irresistibly floating over the heads of any smallmouths in the area. I continued to expertly present this lure from the rod holder as I control-drifted through areas, casting and searching with the blade. My next two fish came on the hair jig, so that had been a good call. They were both 3-pounders, too (3 pounds, 4 ounces and 3 pounds, 2 ounces, respectively), so perhaps this bait was selecting for larger bass. It was worth keeping in the water, for sure. At this point, I was feeling the "pressure" of catching bass No. 5. The pace of activity had slowed, and most boats had gone elsewhere. I had other spots I knew I could try; but could they really be any better than what I had here? I decided to stay and grind, while offering a larger variety of presentations. Last season had been fabulous for cranks, and I was right in the proper depth range for one of my favorites. Nada. I continued to keep any bass present honest with occasional casts with a variety of jerk-baits. Nada. Even the rattle-bait failed to get eaten. I finally resorted to switching my Sonar blade (white) to a BPS blade (gold perch), if only because the sky conditions had changed. Perhaps the original bait wasn't as attractive as it had been. A few casts later, just after ripping the new bait free from some scraggly weeds, this blade was ambushed. I carefully played No. 5 into the net; she was the biggest of the bunch at 3 pounds, 12 ounces. At 2:55 PM, I'd secured my virtual limit; 15 pounds and 2 ounces, which is always a good day, in my honest and humble opinion. The only thing better than reporting back home with a pic and some good stories is to find out that there were no meaningful pressures on my time; I could stay and try to build on my day! And so, I did. The first order of business was to decide whether to stay, or go. I believed there were plenty of fish here, but the action had been quite slow for the previous hour or more. On the other hand, did I have enough time to find and refine the presentation to another group of fish? I decided to compromise; I'd give this area another 20 or 30 minutes, and if I didn't upgrade my catch, I would go elsewhere. Had somebody flipped a switch? My next two casts produced another 3-pounder (blade) and a 4-pound, one ounce beauty (hair jig.) These last three fish had all come from a small area adjacent to a small hump that rose to about 6 feet. The top of the hump seemed vacant, but the triad of waypoints to the side seemed to be worthy of my attention. I picked up the smallest fish of the day (less than two pounds and the only bass of the day less than 2 pounds, 8 ounces) on the blade, which I then promptly and cleanly lost to an unseen Esox. Rather than re-tieing, I picked up my jerk-bait rod and fired out the pink Rapala X-Rap. After a few aggressive jerks, I provided a longish pause. When I resumed my twitching, the rod loaded; I'd fooled the first jerk-bait fish of the day and of my 2019 season! The next 45 minutes or so was pretty intense and produced smallmouth bass weighing 4-8, 4-5 and 4-2 (pounds-ounces), as well as numerous others between 2.5 and 3.5 pounds. That longish pause seemed to be the key, but other things had changed, too, particularly the sky conditions and wind direction (S to SE). When the wind freshened from the SE, the bite slowed; but I still continued to enjoy encounters with quality bass to over 3 pounds on this same jerk. As I raced to my self-imposed 5 PM deadline for "lines out", I hoped for bass No. 20 or another upgrade. When I threw my jerk-bait off on a cast (because of a failed snap!) at about 4:50 PM, I decided to call it a day at 19 bass. At least my snap had not failed on a fish; but this type of failure was a first for me while bass fishing. I'd done some serious "culling" in the last couple of hours, and I believe my final "limit" consisted of bass weighing 3-12 (blade), 4-1 (hair), and 4-2, 4-5 and 4-8 (jerk). With a total weight of 20 pounds and 12 ounces, I think this is my heaviest-ever "limit" purely of smallmouth bass. Not a bad day, given my original expectations. What do I have to say about this? LSC is both huge and dynamic. She is impossibly fickle and generous, too. I am not sure that I can ever predict what might happen, good or bad. I am simply just not out there frequently enough. What I have learned is to go when I can; and to work at it when I am out there. The fish are certainly there, in numbers and sizes not readily available elsewhere. I landed on the "good" side of LSC's temper on this trip. This was my first ever trip to LSC in April, and I picked up a couple of new-to-me patterns, refined a location, and made hay with a favored presentation. It was an excellent combination of new and familiar, comfort and work. Finally, my preparations from the winter have paid off in trouble-free trip execution. And, my trusty, $13 1996 rod from Cabela's, rehabilitated with a new Winn Grip, has proven to be an effective and enjoyable way to present jerk-baits. Not a bad deal! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: April 21, 2019 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: Numenon With: BL (partial) Target: Largemouth Bass Time: 7:45 AM - 1:45 PM Conditions: Just about perfect; mixed clouds, warming from 40 to 65 degrees F, light southerly winds less than 10 mph. Water was less brown, slightly greenish, but with improved clarity to about 4 feet. Water temperatures were 46 to 49 degrees F. I returned to Reeds Lake after a two week hiatus, and it was almost as if nothing had changed; the water temperature was right where I'd left it. The water was visibly less stained and clearer, and I expected good things as I left the ramp. There were already several boats out fishing for bass, but my favorite stretch of pre-spawn edge was open for my efforts. Just a half dozen or so casts into the session, my jerk-bait was intercepted in about 8 feet of water. I landed a small pike; not what I was targeting, but a better start to my trip than my last one! Things were truly looking promising. But I struggled for the next couple of hours. I alternated baits (spy-, crank-, blade-, and rattle-), all while keeping the bass honest with a variety of jerk-bait styles, colors and cadences. I expanded my zone of interest from 3 to 25 feet of water. I had one sizable flash at my feet on a jerk-bait (again, in 6 or 8 feet of water), but that was it. At 10:50 AM, I picked up buddy BL at the dock. I explained the slow fishing and the puzzling conditions, but we were both just happy to be out, fishing, on what was turning out to be a very pleasant day. I'd set BL up with a Ned Rig and a crank-bait. I chose to focus on presenting a rattle-bait (a red craw Rattlin' Rap 06) in big-fish areas. The water seemed a little cool for the rattle-bait to be at its most effective, but the jerks were certainly not producing; I was searching for isolated, big bites. I fish these baits in cold water like a Carolina Rig, with a drag/sweep of the rod and then picking up slack as the bait noses the bottom. It didn't take long; my first nice bass of the season totally inhaled the bait. I'd intercepted her in about 8 feet of water, right between known spawning flats and depths of 25 feet or so. She was in a familiar location; two years prior, BL had netted a 5-pounder for me from this exact spot. That particular fish had been the start of an amazing, 45-minute LunkerFest. With that in mind, I stuck with the red craw rattle-bait pretty much for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, this day was a different story. I caught a couple of pike and was surprised by a hefty carp, so I still had fun. I don't think I missed any bass, though; my pattern did not repeat. BL missed a solid thunk on Ned, too. By 1:45 or so, I'd lost my focus; we called it a day as we looked ahead to better catches elsewhere, later in the season. What do I have to say about this? My season is off to a frustratingly slow start, but I've a lot of fishing opportunities ahead of me, and the best is certainly not behind. I am quite certain that I'll get there, eventually. In the meantime, I enjoyed a couple of quality encounters while sharing some time on the water with friends. And, I don't have to get rid of the 1975 Red Sox American League Championship hat! I was afraid that I'd have to, between my poor fishing and the Sox' unexpectedly dismal start to their season. Both of these unfortunate developments coincided with my receipt of this hat. Now, I know that jinx is busted, and I can don this classic, should I so choose, without fear of a light catch. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: April 6, 2019 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: Numenon With: TM (partial) Target: Largemouth Bass Time: 8:30 AM - 3 PM Conditions: Initial fog clear off to bright skies, which then gradually clouded over. Air temps ranged from 40 to 60 degrees F. Water temps rose from 42 to 47 degrees F. The water was stained brown and had only a couple of feet of visibility. I was stoked to arrive to 42 degree water; jerk-baits would likely be in play. But, my initial enthusiasm was immediately countered by my concern with the color of the water. The stain was brown,not green, and my previous experience on this lake foretold a likely tough bite. The title, above, says it all. Despite our best efforts, we caught nothing. Nor did our lures get touched. We never even saw a fish. I worked hard from less than two feet of water (shallow cranks) to 25 feet or more (blade baits.) I also threw spy-baits, deeper cranks (to 10 feet or so) and rattle baits. Of course, I kept the bass honest by working jerk-baits near the breaks. I tried a variety of jerks and cadences. I tried proven, high-confidence waters as well as new areas. I knew the window of activity might be open for only a short period, and I wanted to be on point when it cracked open. Because the water was warming over the course of the day, I had hope that it might happen. It just didn't. What do I have to say about this? Such a day only proves that it isn't totally about the catching (results.) It can be just about the fishing itself (the process.) I know which is more important, so I am okay with the skunk, especially if I've gotten it substantially out of my way for the season! And there were so many other reasons to be thankful for such a day; the gentle weather, the problem-free travel and launch, the preparedness and functionality of the boat and equipment, the bird life, the Swedish-style lunch (once it was extricated from the Thermos!), the shared friendship, and the possibility of that next big fish! As an interesting footnote to the session, I lost GPS functionality on my older bow-mounted unit for most of the day. I'd seen a headline along the lines of predicted "GPS troubles" for the day, so I wasn't too concerned, especially when the functionality seemed to be restored by 3 PM or so. Apparently, the second GPS Time Epoch ended while I was out on the water. We've now entered the Final Epoch, where GPS Time is now defined to a greater degree with more information; enough to account for the expected end of time, apparently. See https://www.gps.gov/cgsic/meetings/2017/powers.pdf . Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: April 2, 2019 Body of Water: Flat River, Kent County Boat: None, Shore Fishing With: Conference Call Attendees Target: Suckers Time: 2:45 PM - 5:15 PM Conditions: 50 - 55 degrees F, clouding over with a developing strong SW breeze. All area ice is out, but only within the last week. Water levels were just slightly high and the river's flow was clear. This had been the first above-freezing night in quite a while, and local frogs had awakened. A smattering of black stoneflies were emerging during the session. My original and long-standing plan for the day was to follow up an early morning East Grand Rapids appointment with a bass-fishing session on Reeds Lake. I could picture the six-pounders eating my jerk-baits. Of course, things don't always go according to plan. The appointment was rescheduled for the middle of the day, and work demanded some attention later in the afternoon. But, if the timing was right, I could be done in Grand Rapids and on my way back east by the time the conference call in question called to order. I'd have to stop driving to safely participate, so if the timing were supreme, why wouldn't I stop at a favorite streamside location? And so I found myself alongside the Flat River at 2:45 PM, hoping to intercept a couple (or more) of suckers in my first open-water fishing attempt for 2019. I was pleased to find the river in good shape, at a fishable level and clear. A beaver had felled a tree right into the heart of my preferred eddy, and I found several new-to-me, unexpected snags during the session. But the important aspect of the attempt was this; by 2:59 PM, I had two baits (red worms) in place (weighted with one or two small shot) as I called in to the scheduled conference call. My role involved much more listening than talking; I enjoyed watching my rod tips while I listened, took notes and absorbed various signs of Spring. A conference call is certainly enhanced when one is fishing, even if you do miss the first couple of strikes of the season! At one point, my downstream rod looked like a Great Lakes down-rigger rod bucking in a holder, but somehow that fish got away before I could get to it. I missed a more modest bite on my closer rod just as the call was winding down. Both strikes were recorded in my meeting notes. And while I'd no fish to show for my efforts so far, I was ahead of schedule in knowing that at least a few fish were present in the hole. With my work day now completed, I quickly scouted any potential new location. I returned to my eddy, knowing it was the best local option. With a few fish present, I thought my best chance for catching something in my remaining time resided in this same location. I re-baited my hooks and waited, but this time with full attention on the rods and the ability to react more quickly. Just a few moments later I sensed a slight but steady pressure on the closest rod. I came tight to a fish right next to the sunken log. It's golden flashing instantly revealed it to be the target species, a Golden Redhorse. This one was big and feisty enough to pull some drag, but in short order I led it to my feet. The real 2019 Fishing Season was now underway! ![]() In the next hour, with careful attention I was fortunate to convert two very light bites into two more suckers. These were more modestly sized. The second fish of the day was a plain White Sucker, while the third was another showey Redhorse. What do I have to say about this? It's just sucker fishing (and not even fast and furious sucker fishing), so what's to say? Once again I began my season in a favored, comfortable spot. I got bitten during a work-related conference call, I enjoyed the company of some aggressive Canada geese, I got my hands dirty and my feet muddy. There will be plenty of time for Going Large for Legitimate Quarry in 2019, but there should always be time for the simplicity of this, too. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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