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Date: February 9, 2019 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: None, Ice Fishing With: KS Target: Pike and Panfish Time: 1:30 PM - 6:30 PM Conditions: 20 - 25 degrees F, bright blue skies, calm. Ice was covered with just a dusting of snow and about 9 inches thick. After another week of strange weather (extreme thaw, multiple ice storms and then another shock of bracing cold), I hit the ice with good friend KS. It had been a couple of years since we'd fished together, and he had a hankering for a meal of panfish. We've also shared many pike trips on Reeds Lake, so we settled on a concerted effort for pike along the main submerged hump while prospecting for crappies in the adjacent basin. I was able to place my first two tip-ups on productive pike way-points from the past. These were in 15 and 26 feet of water. While KS spread his traps along the west end of the hump in 10 to 18 feet, I moved south and west off the hump in water from about 30 feet to 45 feet deep. A flag in 18 feet quickly declared "Fish on!" KS tightened up and immediately broke off. He mentioned that his knot at the braid-to-leader junction had looked a little funky; I'd rather not have heard that. That was it for action fro the tip-ups. I moved mine out a bit after they'd soaked unsuccessfully, and KS removed his as we continued our prospecting for crappies. The only biting fish we found were tiny perch in various holes about 30 feet deep, but even these often refused our baits. Meanwhile, there were very few suspended crappies, and these inevitably refused our presentations. Most just disappeared from the screen; others actively refused the bait and could be seen on the sonar swimming down and out. I've a lot of experience catching these fish in about 40 feet of water, and I had a lot of confidence that they would appear in aggressive numbers as the evening progressed. They simply didn't. We made one last desperation move closer to shore, in about 31 feet and near the edge of the deeper basin. We both marked fish here, too, and some were even suspended off the bottom. We struck out on these, and it was now full darkness. We'd skunked on our target species, but we agreed it was nice to be out, regardless. We also agreed that it was better to have tried than not; although he didn't have the 150-mile round trip to consider as a factor. Oh well, it's February in Michigan. And I guess I could choose to believe that the fish we'd lost was a 40-inch pike. Landing such a fish would surely have changed my outlook on the trip. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: February 2, 2019 Body of Water: McEwen Lake and Reeds Lake Boat: None, Ice Fishing With: Alone Target: Pike and Panfish Time: 11:00 AM - 5:30 PM Conditions: 30 - 40 degrees F, Gray, southerly winds to 10 mph. Ice was snow-covered and 9 inches thick. McEwen Lake (11 AM - 1 PM) Coming off several named winter storms and a Polar Vortex Event that delivered the coldest air in a generation to Michigan, the weather suddenly moderated. My gear was ready; I decided to hit Kent County's McEwen Lake for some crappies and perhaps some tip-up action from pike. My goals were simple; get out on the ice for the first time in several years and catch a decent crappie for gyotaku purposes. This particular lake has usually offered a steady, if not slow, pick of suspended crappies, and the pike, while not large, are usually reasonably active. I was not pleased when I arrived at Campau Corners, only to find that the only local bait shop was closed, having been replaced by a franchised investment firm. I was fortunately able to score some spikes and wax worms at the adjacent gas station, and without minnows, my load was lightened as I no longer had to bring my pike gear out on the ice. This was now, officially, a panfish excursion. I like to fish for suspended crappies roaming the lake basin, and so I fish areas as opposed to spots. I found plankton and fish in just about every hole I drilled between 30 and 40 feet of water. While most fish were bottom-oriented and clearly in a negative mood, there were enough suspended fish (generally 18 to 25 feet down) to make the fishing interesting. Those suspended fish are usually biters. Despite my best efforts, the fish consistently ignored or actively rejected my presentations. Regardless of the bait; whether a spike on a tungsten jig, a spoon or a jigging Rapala; the results were the same. I was okay with this, though, because I was outside and fishing for the first time in about four months, some song-birds were singing, and I wasn't all that surprised at the negative mood of the fish. The weather had been crazy; and it was, after all, mid-winter. I suspected that the crappies would turn on at some point and I would accomplish my goals for the day. That would be enough. And then my flasher started flickering, and soon thereafter my "low voltage" signal rang. Despite the battery being ostensibly fully charged, I'd run out of juice. If I'd had minnows for pike, I'd have stayed and targeted pike. Without those minnows, though, there was no way I was going to stay and fish "blind" for negative crappies. By 2 PM, I'd gotten off the ice and crossed town to Al and Bob's new location south of Grand Rapids. There, I acquired their last portable 12-volt battery (and crossed my fingers that it held a charge) and a half dozen golden shiners for pike. I was off to Reeds Lake, with a specific location in mind. Reeds Lake (2:30 PM - 5:30 PM) There was quite a bit more snow in Grand Rapids than there had been just 20 miles to the east. I knew it was going to be rough going through the snow on the sloppy ice, and most people were crowding the most accessible spots. Halfway through my trek to the edge and tip of a prominent sunken point on the lake's northern shoreline, I thought I'd made a poor choice. I was gassed! I put my head down and continued the slog. As I approached the area (very much all alone), I changed out the battery on my sonar and was very pleased to see that the new battery was fully charged. Moreover, my GPS mapping indicated that I was right in the zone; I drilled my first hole for a tip-up in 20 feet of water on a favored inside turn. I decided to set three tip-ups and take a lunch break. I had confidence in each of the tip-up's location. Here I was fishing precise spots, and I had depths from 6 to 25 feet of water covered with fresh, lively baits. After a quick break for hot "Swedish Stew" (by which I mean any hot meal from a thermos and enjoyed outside) of mixed beef stew and baked beans, I moved off the point's tip to scout deeper water for panfish. In holes from 25 to 56 feet of water, I saw much the same as I'd had seen at McEwen; bottom-oriented fish and plankton with a very occasional suspended fish. Once I'd proven to myself that the fish on the bottom were tiny yellow perch, I generally focused on just the suspended fish. These all ignored my various presentations. At 5 PM, a flag from my deepest tip-up (about 25 feet, at the point's submerged tip, with the shiner suspended just a couple of feet from the bottom) announced the possible presence of a fish! As I approached the tip-up, the spool was motionless. The line, however was angled to the side. A fish had definitely hit the shiner. I waited for another half-minute or so before the spool started slowly revolving. The fish still had the bait and was moving away from me. When I initially tightened up, the fish seemed inconsequential. As I hand-lined the fish in, I realized it had taken substantial line on the first run. As it got closer to the hole, it seemed to get bigger. At first glance through the hole, I could see that it was nice keeper-sized pike. After another couple of nice runs, I eased her through the hole. She was fat and legal; I decided to keep her for a gyotaku session. I'll consider this to be my first (real) fish of 2019! I reset the tip-up and returned to panfishing in 41 feet of water. With nothing on the screen, I dropped my Swedish Pimple to the bottom to stir up some sediment and get something going. Several fish soon materialized on the screen, and I teased one several feet off the bottom. That fish didn't hit, but another confidently rose off the bottom and ate my lure without hesitation. I'd caught my crappie for the day! I stayed for another half-hour or so, but nothing else happened. The long slog off the ice was weighing on me. I took a circuitous route along the lake's edge where more snow had blown off, and this was a little easier. I passed several groups of young men in hubs or collecting their gear. Would they be out there in another 30 years, or would they have perhaps moved on to other things? Perhaps I'd rather have been fishing in warm salt water. But, I think I'd successfully made some fine lemonade from the various lemons I'd been given for the day. And I like lemonade! Being a true Rhode Islander, I even like Frozen Lemonade! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: September 7, 2018 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: Numenon With: Alone Target: Largemouth Bass Time: 7:30 AM - Noon Conditions: Mostly cloudy; ENE winds at <10 mph; 65 degrees; water 75 degrees F, brownish green, about 2 feet of visibility and high I simply never got into a productive groove on this trip. I did score a small, <14-inch bass on a Whopper Plopper from a weedy, shallow flat early on. I followed that up soon thereafter with a 25-inch, DT10-eating pike. Since I enjoy throwing these baits so much, I perhaps gave them too much of my time; but I did alternate in Ned, drop-shots, blade baits, spinnerbaits, Senkos and other cranks along the way. I covered depths from 2 to 22 feet, and many areas and specific spots. I did swing on a heavy weed fish from an isolated hump on a spinnerbait, only to be instantly and cleanly cut off. Other than that, nothing good, fish-wise developed. By 11 AM, wakeboarders were tearing up the lake, the yacht club was establishing the course for Saturday's Reeds Lake Triathlon, and I had lost my focus. I was home sooner than expected! What do I have to say about this? It's pretty rare for me to lose interest while on the water. I've been pretty busy with life, and I've got a lot of good fishing both behind me and in front of me. There was no point to my fishing this day other than relaxation; and perhaps, I was smart to go with my feelings and not fight it. I do, however, look forward to recapturing that productive groove! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: August 3, 2018 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: Numenon With: Alone Target: Largemouth Bass Time: 7:45 AM - 1:45 PM Conditions: Foggy and calm, but clearing; up to 85 degrees or so. Water was soupy green with <3 feet of visability and 78 degrees F. Quiet until Noon or so. With an open weekday, but kind of worn out from work and travels, I returned to East Grand Rapids' Reeds Lake. I expected bass to be susceptible to deep cranks. I was (a little bit) correct! It took me a couple of casts to get properly oriented to the western point of the main submerged hump, but my third cast of the day with a purple/yellow DT10 crank was eaten by a nice fishing about 16 feet of water! It wasn't the bass I was targeting, but rather a nice, 30-inch pike. This was an auspicious start to the day! I continued cranking various weed edges (mostly offshore) for the next 90 minutes without success. I'd mixed in a few casts with a Whopper Plopper top-water (this had produced a small bass) and a Texas-rigged Senko (I really missed the rod I'd broken in Traverse City), but I was really committed to cranking. This was the secret to any success I might have this day; it was also, most likely, my Achilles heel for the session. When I switched to a bluegill-colored DT10 and tweaked my location to the end of a shore-connected point, I quickly scored a couple of nice bass (16.5 and 15 inches, respectively.) Both came from the deep weed edge in 12 or 13 feet of water. When this bite petered out, I edged just a bit deeper and switched to a DT16 crank. Despite all the marks on my graph, this produced nothing but an ambitious crappie. By this time, the fog had given way and the lake was awakening. In the heat, I decided to try my favorite stretch of docks. My first cast with the Senko yielded a 14-incher, but that was it for this stretch. I liked the quality of the crank-bait fish better, and I suspected I could grind out my limit. I did get another 16.5-incher with the same DT10 along the same weed-line; and I swung and missed once, too. The pace of bites was too slow, and I know I should have picked up a swim-jig or plastic worm; I simply chose not to. This was for fun, and the fun I was looking for was swinging on the slightest hesitation in the crank's cadence. What do I have to say about this? Four legal bass for less than 9 pounds does not make for much of a story; but simply fishing and enjoying oneself* is a legitimate way to spend the day. Plus, I was saving some energy for the next day; conditions looked good for another trip to the Canadian side of Lake St. Clair! *I cannot express how much I enjoy crank-bait fishing with my newish Shimano Curado/Lew's White Ghost combo! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: April 22, 2018 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: Numenon With: DC Target: Largemouth Bass Time: 8:30 AM - 1:30 PM Conditions: Bright and clear; ESE winds to 10 mph; 45 to 60 degrees F. Water temps from 46 to almost 48 degrees F, 6+ feet of green clarity. Good friend, DC, and I hit the water with high expectations; conditions felt even better than two days previous. And, I had a known starting point! I deferred use of the jerk-bait to DC while I experimented with cranks, a spy-bait and a Berkley War Pig lipless crank. I wasn't too concerned about our slow start. It was a slightly chilly morning, and my action had occurred later on Friday. DC was buoyed by the appearance of a large bass behind his bait, but she did not bite. I was confident in both my recent and long-term history on this lake at this time of year. But when our slow start stretched into a very slow start, and multiple spots were all unproductive, we switched into search mode. Various jigs and blade baits were deployed; I switched to jerking with a variety of baits; and still, nothing moved for us. By 10:30 or so, with the sun higher, we returned to our starting point along a weed line. Suddenly, the bass were visible to us; they were where we'd expected (about 4 feet of water over dark bottom), there were lots of them, and they were not eating. We saw dozens, if not hundreds, of bass over the next couple of hours. Most ignored or actively rejected our offerings (now expanded into a variety of soft plastics and hair jigs), while just a few followed our baits. They weren't cruising; I'd speculate that they were staging in specific contact points as they emerged from the depths into the shallows. When it became obvious, even to me, that this was a seductive but unproductive approach to catching some bass this day, we again switched gears and targeted the bass that we couldn't see. I jerked and War-Pigged with determination, but it just never happened. We'd both had enough; we decided to salvage the rest of our day. But DC's wife was temporarily unavailable to pick him up, so we continued to fish. We relocated and picked up new baits. DC chose a Lucky Craft spy-bait, and on his second or third cast over shallow weeds, hung a really nice fish. Probably not quite four pounds, but still a fine bass! And we were no longer skunked! But that was it for the day; we had no more action in our remaining time. So here's what didn't work:
What do I have to say about this? Once again, I was rudely reminded that there's more to this sport that I don't know, than I actually do know. Reeds Lake served me her periodic dish of Humble Pie. It's bitter; but I have to admit, it's still Pie! And, I like Pie! I suspect that my previous notes will reveal mysterious skunks on trips that started with high expectations. I further suspect that many of these skunked trips involve critical transition periods, and especially this initial, pre-spawn staging. The fish are always responding to many environmental influences; my presence and lure presentations are just single factors in their world. Their collective minds and motivations were elsewhere on this day. That's okay; it's part of this fishing equation I have chosen to struggle with. When I solve this puzzle, I'll be pleased. But I also know that there are additional problems awaiting solution, too. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: April 20, 2018 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: Numenon With: Alone Target: Largemouth Bass Time: 10 AM - 2 PM Conditions: Beautiful! Bright and clear with mild northerly winds of less than 10 mph. 45 - 55 degrees F; water was clear and green with over 5 feet of visibility; water temperatures were 43-45 degrees F. I was pleased to arrive to a quiet lake with the docks in place. I was doubly pleased, when returning to the boat after parking nearby, I registered 43-degree water. I snapped on a Berkley Cutter jerk-bait and proceeded to my highest confidence spot. This area offers the most productive spawning flats on the lake, as well as access to the deepest water in the lake. Moreover, a majority of the truly large bass I've caught on this lake in the Spring have come from this 200-yard stretch of water. This was, simply, why I was here on this day. It took 25 minutes or so for the first fish to present itself. A beautiful 16.75-incher ate my bait over some shallow dark bottom (about 3.5 feet of water.) She was really too cold to fight too much, but I was glad just to see her. It took another half hour or so for the next, another solid 16-incher on the same bait. She hit a bit further from the shallow edge of the dark bottom, in perhaps 6 feet of water; right where I expected her. I was now on the Spot-on-the-Spot; and armed with a depth range and an acceptable cadence established (the bass were preferring a prolonged pause or two during the retrieve), I caught bass Nos. 3-5 in quick succession. Number 3 proved to be the Bass of the Trip, as she measured 20.5 inches and 5.5 pounds. Bass Nos. 4 and 5 were 16-inch twins. I had my "virtual limit" within 90 minutes and plenty of time in front of me. Instead of pounding these fish (I now knew they'd bite!), I chose to look for new patterns and larger fish. With this decision, the fate of my day quickly changed; I had only a single (23-inch pike) bite for the rest of the day. But I did get to fish spy-baits, blade-baits, glide-baits and cranks in a variety of spots; and I had a true giant tracking my River-to-Sea S-Wave glide-bait. She appeared in water that was very similar to the water that had yielded all my bites. Unfortunately, she ghosted away without committing to my bait. What do I have to say about this? What an enjoyable and satisfying day! After a lengthy hiatus from the water, I returned on this weekday to find prime conditions; and my journaling paid off, as I knew how to unlock a few of their secrets under these conditions. Plus, while it's just nice to be out on the water, it is, admittedly, even nicer to be out on the water and catching some really nice fish! In addition to being a beautiful, long-awaited spring day, the fishing was good; I certainly met all my basic bass fishing goals of a legal bass, a big bass, and a (virtual) limit of bass. Plus, that virtual limit would have totaled 15 pounds, which (for me), is a good catch! Perhaps I erred in seeking greener pastures, and perhaps I should teach myself to enjoy the fish I'm on at a given moment. But with a successful day in hand, I could only make it better; and I'm sure I learned something of interest during the last couple of hours of the session. Maybe I'll cash in on that knowledge at some point in the future. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: March 18, 2018 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: Numenon With: DC Target: Largemouth Bass Time: 11:45 AM to 4:45 PM Conditions: Mostly sunny and 45 - 55 degrees F; generally westerly winds at 12 - 15 mph; water was stained brown, about 3 feet visibility, 38 - 40 degrees F Good fishing buddy, DC, and I got together for the first time in about a year, and once again, a decent bite fizzled out with his presence. We were totally skunked! I didn't have a single bite! DC proved there was some life in there lake by snagging a tiny perch and a sizable turtle from the bottom with his blade-bait. I'd returned to Reeds Lake, confident that I could build on the previous day's success. That didn't happen, and perhaps we spent to much time with blade-baits in 20 feet of water. But we did do enough cranking and jerking, in both deep and shallow water, to demonstrate to our satisfaction, that the bite was simply "off". What had changed? It was hard to say; in fact, based on slightly milder conditions, I might have expected more. The wind was stronger, and boat control slightly less efficient, but not to the degree that it ruined our presentations. DC might have been on to something when he mentioned the possibility of Spring Turnover; the temperature is correct, and the brown water and floating weeds and detritus are consistent with this idea. The day's wind might have kicked this event into gear; and it's usually considered to be a hindrance to fish catching. What do I have to say about this? The catching was poor, but the fishing was good. Part of the mystery of fishing is the unknown; and maybe some day I will learn the key to unlocking conditions such as these. That will be more satisfying than admiring the fish themselves. Meanwhile, the poor catching did not dissuade us from discussing the possibility of a joint Costa Rica 2019 Trip. It was good to have DC back in the boat again! Second, I should mention the utility and value of my humble drift sock. This tool, which I resurrected last year after a very long, inexplicable hiatus, really does aid boat control when it gets too windy. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: March 17, 2018 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: Numenon With: Alone Target: Largemouth Bass Time: 12:45 PM to 5:15 PM Conditions: Mostly sunny and 35 - 50 degrees F; variable but light winds; water was stained brown, about 3 feet visibility, 37 - 39 degrees F, once I got out there I'd chosen to fish Reeds Lake this day because I thought I knew some starting points for success, based on the last couple of seasons. But after a half hour or so of casting cranks, jerks and spy-baits without a fish encounter in the shallows, and without even having found any attractive weed beds, I edged out to deeper water. I chose to explore a spot where a known spawning flat connects to some of the deepest water in the lake at the end of a submerged point. I switched to a Bass Pro Shops blade-bait and probed the 15-to-25-foot depths in this area. When my rod loaded on the third cast in the area, I was super pleased! The bass couldn't fight too well in the cold water, but it was still fun for me! I dropped a waypoint and continued scouting this area. When the wind had moved me off the spot a bit, I turned around and casted to where I thought I'd been bit before. I swung on a faint "tick" in the line and connected; this was a much nicer, heavier bass that had really inhaled the bait! ![]() Both fish had come from 17- to 21-feet of water, and I now felt like I had the start of a pattern. In fact, I was confident that I had one! I worked the next three hours or so for four more bites, all on the gold blade-bait; so it wasn't the best pattern. I worked the bait slowly along the bottom with subtle lifts (just enough to feel the blade vibrate a few times) and frequent pauses. It was very much like fishing a Texas-rigged worm. Half the strikes were detectable "ticks", but the other half revealed themselves as heavy mush. All in all, this was my best ever blade-baiting experience, and it certainly increased my confidence in this bait and my growing ability to use it. I lost the largest, unseen fish about halfway to the boat. Losing fish is reportedly part of fishing blade-baits! The remaining fish were a 16-inch bass and two pike. One pike was small, the other was legal-sized and very fat. Pike season had ended the day before, so all fish were released; my gyotaku will have to wait. All hit in about 16 - 18 feet of water. I tried shallower and deeper to know avail. All were outside known spawning areas. What do I have to say about this? This was a satisfying day, even if the catching was still a bit light. I think I beat the odds, though, by enjoying several nice fish on a new technique under difficult conditions. The new Duckett rod excels at this technique, too. On the way home, I contacted good friend DC to see if he could join me the next day. It has been a while since I could share some fish with a buddy, and I was pleased when he accepted the invitation! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: March 4, 2018 Body of Water: Reeds Lake Boat: Numenon With: Alone Target: Largemouth Bass Time: 10:45 AM to 3:45 PM Conditions: Mostly sunny and 35 - 45 degrees F; easterly winds at 15 mph; water was stained brown, about 3 feet visibility, 39 - 40 degrees F My first trip of the season is usually all about just getting out, shaking down the boat and equipment, celebrating the start of something new, and perhaps, catching a fish. But after the last couple of years' success on my inaugural trip, and with that success having revealed a couple of viable starting points for actually catching fish, I returned to East Grand Rapids' Reeds Lake. The forecast included 15 mph winds from the east, and this proved to be accurate. The docks were not yet in, but I'd prepared myself with chest waders, and soon I had Numenon secured against the big willow just north of the ramp. I was, perhaps, the second boat to launch for the season; a companion was struggling with boat control near the lake's west end. I was armed with small cranks, a jerk-bait, a spy-bait and hair jigs. I intended to fish over and off the edges of any green weeds I could find, especially in areas known to have produced big fish in the past. The ice had been out less than a week, and I quickly established that weed growth was lagging, at least when compared to my experience the previous couple of years. I continued to probe the same types of areas, but when the spy- and jerk-baits failed to produce any action, I switched to casting shallow-running cranks, especially over the nascent weeds. Over the winter I had secured a new crank-bait casting outfit; the Shimano Curado 200 paired with a Duckett Ghost rod casted my small baits of choice like a dream. It also shined when, on my second cast, I detected the slightest of hesitations in my lure's cadence. I swung, and connected with the first Michigan fish of the season, a 22-inch pike. She'd eaten a KVD square-bill in about 3 or 4 feet of water. After a quick pic, she was released; my gyotaku efforts would have to wait until I landed a legal-sized and in-season fish. A similar small crank, a Shad Rap that I'd weighted for neutral buoyancy, produced my other fish for the day, an even smaller (but still welcomed) pike. This fish also hit at the end of a long cast in 3 or 4 feet of water. I concluded the day by blade-baiting the 16-30 foot depths outside my favorite bass spawning area. I marked many fish out here, but had no bites. I was joined by another bass boat utilizing the same tactics, and they landed a pretty nice pike, which appeared to be snagged. The water was still a bit too cold for success with jerks; and perhaps visibility was too limited for success with hair jigs and spy-baits. What do I have to say about this? This trip was a success in my book; everything worked as expected, my new gear shows considerable promise, and I encountered no real problems or aggravations. The deck was stacked against any substantial fishing success, and I truly enjoyed encountering and catching the pair of pike that I did. It looks like I've weathered another Michigan Winter. My biggest problem and concern might simply be being able to come close to matching the catching success I enjoyed last spring. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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