It's musky time

December 16, 2012

 

Hit the Pot today at a popular spot.  John and I rolled in and see the parking lot empty but then there’s a truck and trailer behind us. We fished more or less bankers hours.  The other boat just so turns out to be Anthony and Austin from Mid Atlantic Muskies.  We recognized each other after only meeting once. A while ago I asked for advice on how to repair the finish of one of his gliders I purchased.  When I saw him he just gave me another one!  Wow.  Can’t thank you enough.  Class act for sure.  This thing held up incredibly well too with perfect action. 

Now for the report. We did a little trolling, mostly casting.  On one of our arm resting trolling trips we started to come out of the deeper but average 15 foot stuff into the 8 foot stuff and our cranks were bumping bottom pretty regularly.  We often had to clear our lines from floating grass and debris too but especially when they’d bump bottom.  Well part of the time I was trying the old prop wash troll too, then lose confidence really quickly and let the lure back out.  Well one time I started cranking it in, thumping it violently in the process and got it right behind the boat in the wash and THUMP. Could have sworn it was bottom again but not when the rod was thumping like I just snagged a VW.  I knew right away it was a good fish. Quite a few head shakes and then it comes out of the water.  Around the boat we go a couple times, then it finds the engine like they always do, luckily not quite the prop.  She stayed deep for a while too.  I guess now is a good time to explain what makes a good boat partner, a good net man!  John did great and the fish was in the net.  Our tiny little pliers were enough, didn’t even have to use the hook cutters.  Got a few decent photos on a couple cameras and witnessed the strongest release I’ve seen yet. The fish bolted back to the bottom the second I released my grip.  The only blood that was shed was mine as she must have caught me with her teeth on the release.  Oh well, I couldn’t be happier with that one fish.  We worked our tails off searching for another bite but it wasn’t meant to be. One strike all day and we made it count.  Thanks for the trip John.  It’s been since June since my last lunge.  Gotta love it.  Time for the old musky happy dance.  I don’t kiss every fish I catch but when it’s the the predator of all other predators that swim, she’s getting a kiss.  As they say, “Muskies, everything else is just bait.” 

 

Musky 1: Jon 1

 

Peak Rut 2012

November 12, 2012

 

Veterans Day hunts are almost always a phenomenal time to be in the woods. Unless of course you don’t enjoy full on peak rut activity, full sprint chases, and don’t like seeing multiple bucks that just seem to sprout out of the ground like unwanted weeds through fresh mulch.  This Veterans Day was no different for me at my northern Montgomery County site.  On Halloween this year I shot a buck of a lifetime.  I’ve had him on motion detector cameras for the last two seasons but had not seen him since last September.  It’s been well over a year since a sighting even on camera but he showed up on Halloween looking for a fight and I capitalized with a perfect but lucky high shoulder/spine shot dropping him instantly.  There’s no way I could ever duplicate that kind of hunt right?  Well… even though I didn’t score, this Veterans Day saw some of the most exciting rutting activity imaginable. 

 

 I already got my European Mount back from my Halloween Buck.  Not bad. Of course everyone said I should have got it shoulder mounted.

 

 

I slept on the couch that night after a late night performing finishing touches to my bow, sighting in new arrows and adding fresh Broadhead blades, a few beers maybe and the inevitable anticipation of a peak rut hunt that only comes a few times a year…. If you’re lucky.  I may not have shut my eyes until well after midnight with an alarm set for 4 something. When the alarm finally went off I was quick to respond…except HBO was still on and a hilarious movie was playing at the time.  Never in all my life could I care less about what was left on the TV when I first wake up in the morning but I just couldn’t help myself and zoned off into the TV for maybe a half an hour.  Good thing was that the coffee alarm was set and brewing, my SUV was packed and all I had to do was get dressed.  I think I may have showered that morning but can’t remember. I do remember it had been a couple days before my last shower and any good hunter knows that scent is their worst enemy in the woods and the deer’s best alley.  I got lucky with a south something wind when I first arrived. It’s basically the best wind I can hope for on this site because I have to walk south to get to my favorite tree.  Except most of the deer feed in the corn field at night located to the north and return to bed traveling through my site in the morning. I’ve always done well here in the evening but have had more than a couple complete skunks in the AM.  I also was well aware there was a giant lurking in these woods.  Three days before I got a call from the land owner that he saw “him”. He was walking his young labradoodle in the evening and this horse of a deer stood motionless not 40 yards from him out in the open.  He described it as two Christmas trees hanging off his head and I knew who he was talking about from previous glassing trips. Then the next day I hear a frantic story from a good friend who owns the property to the north that he saw a monster.  But the day after that a friend had hunted that farm on an all day hunt without so much as a fawn sighting.  Who knows right?

 

Well I finally set up just before sunrise from stupid rookie mistakes of inevitably forgetting something behind.  The late set up had me baffled and overly flustered.  I had to climb the tree twice as I forgot my safety harness and by now had worked up a hefty sweat.  I thought about just throwing in the towel but remembered to rattle just at sunrise to maximize my best chances at intercepting the ears of a buck traveling through the area.  Sure enough, not ten minutes after setting up and rattling maybe for the second time here comes a buck crashing through the site to investigate the sound. Except it was a 6 inch spike, maybe 4 point, thin bodied adolescent I’d suspect. He surprised the heck out of me and I remembered thinking he sure had some balls.  I could have pinned him to my tree but gave him a pass.  It would be three or four years until he was anywhere near the size of Mr. Halloween or any of the four giants I knew were in the area.  Some time passed and a few does crossed the same low spot in the fence they always do, off site on the forbidden property but just close enough to tease me.  It’s maybe 8am now and I see chasing in the old pasture field.  The same field where I’ve seen 4 shooter bucks at the same time in a swale leading to the woods I’m set up in.  It’s that same ballsy 4 pointer running full tilt behind a doe.  Then I see him, the horse of a deer, the true giant and top boss of these woods trying to keep up with the youngster hot on a doe’s rump.  It was kind of funny watching this old fat guy chasing a lean teenager after a fine model.  He just couldn’t keep up but the doe and youngin were tearing through the field running laps like gray hounds after a rabbit.  They circle this enormous grass field and then run out offsite for  ten minutes or so but later return.  Then finally I see the doe that has been causing all this fuss as she’s distinguished by her white pigment on her legs as if she’s wearing white socks up to her knees.   She has the proper suitor behind her this time too.  They stay on the edge of the pasture, where shrubs and patches of dense thickets transition into a hardwood forest.  The boss man has finally caught up with his choice female and she’s acting rather persuasive.  They proceed to mate right there infront of me,maybe 80 yards out, well out of bow range and well offsite.  With my cheapo binos I can count hairs and even see his “lip stick” pop out as he mounts her numerous times, albeit very briefly.  After one of their quicky sessions he even sticks his nose almost inside her, I watch him perform oral sex for crying out loud and she was loving it. I kid you not. And would you believe it that testy annoying 4 pointer shows back up.  He even comes in snorting and blowing, almost looking to purposely pick a fight he most certainly would lose.  The big guy chases him off in short order.  But he just kept coming back, time after time again.  Finally he’s got some time alone again and this time the doe follows him. She travels the exact ground he did, she defecates exactly where he does, half the time she’s got her tail wagging too and he finally returns from scraping and licking branches to tend her again.  I couldn’t believe the show I was watching, all within ten minutes of home and just miles from an interstate and a massive shopping center.

All while this was going on of course I’m excited and a little distracted.  I try grunting, rattling anything to get their attention. A couple times I got them both to look my direction briefly but more than a couple times they were just too into each other… literally. But I was preoccupied and wasn’t paying any attention to my down wind.  This buck came from behind me quieter than any mouse could ever sneak past a house cat.  I just happened to look over my right shoulder, straight downwind to catch a glimpse of him hugging the edge of this wetland.  He’s a 7 point, almost a twin to the deer I shot out of this tree on the last day of the season last year.  Maybe 2.5 year old, maybe even a well fed 1.5 with a small basket rack and a body of a youngin.  He never once looked up, even with me barely 20 feet high.  He literally was directly below me, showing some interest in the two love birds which I didn’t think he could see yet because of the steep hill he had to climb first. He walked straight in front of me offering the perfect quartering away shot at 10, 15 and 20 yards.  I gave a grunt just because and he quickly tucked in his tail deep between his legs and gave a quick kick and jump a few yards and then turned towards me, again, never looking up.  They never do that from my past experience.  I almost always get busted.  He got a walk. 

 

Back to the love birds.  They had vanished into a small thicket on the edge of the field to do their thing in peace.  I guess they needed some downtime because they had just previously mated a half dozen times out in the open, well past sunrise I might add.  Then a nice large red fox showed up.  I had purchased a furbearers permit just for this occasion as his coat was beautiful. I drew on him at a previously ranged stump with 31 yards to the kill zone.  But he moved at the last second to of all things to pounce on a mouse.  I got to watch him hunt, kill and feed directly in front of me.  After his kill I couldn’t bring myself to follow through.  Instead, just enjoy nature for a while in my home urban County of Montgomery.  I felt blessed at that moment to be so fortunate. 

The woods were quiet for some time now. Maybe an hour passed with nothing brewing, but it was an action packed morning for sure.  A deer would just be gravy at this point.  Then that ballsy 4 pointer shows up again and shakes things up.  Gotta love him I thought.  Maybe I’ll catch him slipping now.  If only Mr. Big chases the little guy to the north, downwind towards me I thought.  It could happen, I was on a well traveled trail. Anytime now.  He quickly chased him off for the umpteenth time but the little guy never ran too far and always returned on the exact path the two honeymooners traveled.  Amazing they can do that all by scent.  It was now near 11am and the spike hadn’t showed for another 20 minutes and the two were back in the thicket.  I thought I might as well climb down as things were not going to change.  Maybe I could sneak up on them as the winds were picking up adding to the cover and I was dead down wind.  Sure I thought.  I had to pick my son up at the bus stop at 1pm so might as well shake things up a little.  I get down, gather my gear and thought about just going home with a feeling of content and a job well done from an amazing hunt.  But then thought I might as well try to put a stalk on them.  This was probably my last hunt of the 2012 rut as I was leaving town for week on a family cruise vacation the following Saturday.  It’s now or never to double up on two trophy bucks, both life time kills and to think it could happen during the same season, in the same county as my home.  I managed to cut 100 yards to 40.  I was within range if he gave me that perfect shot.  Anytime now…  I set my goal on a perfect natural ground blind of entangled grape vines to my right slightly covering their bed, if I could just somehow make it there without getting busted I’d have a chance.  Miraculously I made it unscathed and undetected.  I was motionless and my heart was throbbing.  I stood ever so still for a good long while.  I didn’t move, didn’t snap a stick, I did nothing wrong when all of a sudden they sounded and blew out of there together.  Stupid me thinking I could pull that off from the ground.  But they didn’t run far.  They even ran in a direction giving me even more cover.  There was no way they could see me now. Maybe 60 yards out. Both were on high alert for a short while but then the doe started doing her tail wag thing and walking around Mr. Big.  Then another group of does show up, a HUGE doe (I shot a 120 pound field dressed doe here last year and this doe dwarfed her) and two good size fawns were working directly towards me.  That will do I thought.  Well, Mr. Dink, the 4 pointer had other thoughts and came out of now where and chased the doe and fawns out of reach.  I remember seeing the big doe run past me with her mouth open, tongue out with this look of desperation and exhaustion on her.  Her fawns looked about as clueless as can be.  They were within range but never stopped even for a second.  Oh well, any deer from the ground would have been spectacular.  By now Mr. Big and the hot doe were long gone.  I thought about an all day hunt at that point.  I had water and food in the truck, I could call a baby sitter. It’s now or never.  Don’t push it Jon…  you already can’t top this hunt.  Get home to your son.  There’s always next year.  Damn that was fun. 

 

A lot of big bucks meet their maker on Halloween

I once read someone's "Rut Journal" when the I phone first came out with that title. That was right about the time when I first started to get serious about bow hunting. Well, today (Halloween 2012)... was a day I'll not soon forget. My original plan was fouled by other hunters this morning but a quick relocation just before sunrise was still possible and wow did it pay off. I was set up only moments before legal shooting light and instantly had movement behind me. The wind was blowing to my right to left and chasing was commencing all over my little 7 acre suburbia forest. But it was only dink spikes and hot does. I stopped a mature doe dead in her tracks with burp of a sound from my mouth but she hudinied on me at the last second. How on earth they do that I have no idea inside of 15 yards with a 31"draw and 70+ pounds. But oh well. "Why shoot a hot doe in the rut" I was once told on here. Well, because I haven't shot anything yet this fall, that's WHY.

I started rattling soon after I decided to ignore the youngins to play at will. The spike was willfully stomping away but the mature doe still wanted to play as far as I could tell. I think they (sexually mature does) will take as many dicks as they can find this time of year.

One sequence of rattling for 30 seconds at a time every 10 minutes at first light or so. I may have just finished my second set when I first saw a well dressed mature buck cross the neighbors yard in a perpendicular angle to me... getting very close to downwind I might add, but still a good ways off. This buck went straight to where I first saw the spike and doe at first light this morning. I quickly picked up the antlers and gave the most gentle of tickles to attract his attention because he was less than 100 yards and the winds were 5 to 10 tops. I have never seen on hunting programs, fictional TV, magazine articles or even my dreams how quickly this deer reacted to the slightest of antler tunes. He rushed in and cut 100 yards to 30 in seconds. The wind was so dangerously in his face I thought for sure I was busted. I barely had time to drop the antlers and knock the release. Before I could get my first grunt in to stop him he seemed to slam on the breaks... too late, it was out. He froze, I was drawn, it was less than 20 yards now slightly quartering towards me... like Brave Heart... "LOSE!" I dropped him in his tracks at 20 yards, high shoulder hit, 3 blades muzzy. The arrow only penetrated maybe 1/3 (31" arrow) and he was on his back. What I witnessed for the next 15 minutes I wouldn't want to describe to anyone but he finally expired. I sent another two arrows his way, the second only repeating the first in the shoulder, poor penetration but the third found its mark. How alive I felt today cannot be put into words. It’s my second buck, my first true mature buck and a trophy I will not soon forget.

It may have been an early morning shot but by the time this rookie showed off to the neighbors; gut, drag and drove to the taxidermy and butcher I only just barely made it to my sons Halloween Parade at 2pm.... but guess what... I made it and the first thing my son said to me in the middle of all the other parents in the classroom was, "Daddy!.... you made it... I knew you'd come." What a day. I think I'm still shaking and I took the shot over 14 hours ago. I've said it before on a doe shot...... you just can't bottle that kind of feeling.

Happy Ruttin and Happy Halloween. I'm done for now. Heading north to finish my week vacation on my true love... steelhead. I doubt I'm topping this anytime soon.

Here's a shot of him from last year. But I've never seen him on stand.


Oh, we, John C, Sebastian, Diego and I just got back from steelheading. IT was a lot of work with several miles hiked each day, it snowed, freezing rain, dense fog, blinding rain.... all day at times but the fish cooperated. We worked so hard for a few fish but also landed some true hogs. Diego getting one of the biggest I've seen, in the teens probably. Awesome fish they are. Now I need a vacation.

 

 

 

 

 

Nice smallmouth hiding out in "Carp" water.

There's a stream I like in Frederick county that is usually a sure bet for carp.  It's a medium size stream with heavy silt deposits.  The silt is so bad in spots that the thought of anything else but carp living there wouldn't even cross my mind.  I guess the last time I fished it was last year in mid July and it was full of carp, just like the first few times I fished it in June.  and these carp, being that they are in a stream setting with some riffles but mostly runs and pools, feed rather well and will readily take a fly.  Buggers and damsel flies mostly for me.  Okay, so two Saturdays ago I hit the stream in the evening.  I knew the light wouldn't be great to sight fish but I went anyway.  I didn't see the first carp, not a one when in a 30 foot wide pool last year there were probably 50 carp averaging 5 pounds or more.  Okay, never been there in August before.  Oh well.  But, this one pool, the largest in the area with great habitat of a criss crossing fallen tree up against a large boulder with excellent depth, had some decent bass.  From what I could tell they were 10 inch largemouth which I have caught a few in that stream before.  So, I switched to a heavy CK crawfish pattern and lobbed it into the depth.  Sure enough I saw three or four impressive bass instantly come out of the woodwork and chase my fly.  I lost sight of the fish and my fly but saw my fly line twitch so I set the hook.  What happened next surprised the heck out of me.  An enormous smallmouth was hooked up and he had about 4 other friends close to his size following him.  A SMALLMOUTH? In slow, retarded carp water?  Yep.  It took more than a few seconds, maybe minutes to pull him out of all those snags too but somehow I did it.  I think I had on 4 pound tippet, not x anything, just 4 pound mono from a filler spool.  It did the job and I landed one of my better fly rod caught smallies.  And like most small streams, from that moment on all the fish in that pool were educated.  I may have caught a few more bluegill and green sunfish but I could see at least another half dozen bass that wanted nothing to do with my fly again.  Why do they get like that?  But I've seen it time and time again in small streams that the fish that were retards during the first few casts become PHD educated immediately after they watch one of their buddies get yanked from the stream. 

I didn't catch anything else from that pool or a few others I tried either.  So off to the Monocacy afterwards in hopes of finding a hex hatch.  Sure enough, they came out in the evening with a few dinky fish rising from time to time.  Near that magic time just before dark I heard a large truck in the vicinity of where I parked and I was worried I was getting towed. I may have parked a little illegally but had no other choice near a road closed sign. I high tailed it out of there right when I should have been fishing but I did give an honest effort of over an hour and was completely skunked.  Not even a bluegill or chub.  Oh well.  That smally I caught earlier sure made the trip well worth it though. 

Yellow Breeches White Fly August 19, 2012

August 19, 2012 Yellow Breeches White Fly Hatch

I’m sure many of you want to know what’s going on.  Well my usual fishing partner in crime John, his father and Par and I made a trip to the Breeches yesterday.  Of course it was pouring with rain back home all day and neither of us even bothered to check the weather.  The rain was relentless back home but I just figured it was a quick summer storm.  Well, it kept falling but we had it planned and rolled out in blinding rain from Gaithersburg around 1:30pm.  Made it to Yellow Breeches outfitters to buy licenses, they couldn’t sell out of state licenses so we had to go to the Getty up the road.  But I needed some flies even though I tie some of my own and John always ties hundreds and knows the stream better than anyone I know being that he went to college practically on the stream some 15 years ago or whatever it was. This was kind of a last second trip and in the end, John didn’t have a decent selection with him and neither did yellow breeches.  They were out of anything smaller than #12 for both the spinners and the duns and no emergers of the white fly.  Oh well, bigger is what I bought, 12 will have to do.  The shop said the peak had passed and it was slowing down, even got a report that it was “not good”.  But then opportunism turned that report into well, in the rain last week it was good.  Supposedly last Sunday through Wednesday was the time and afterwards saw noticeable slow down?  But the hex’s were out well and I really wanted to play with them more than anything.  The weather ended up being beautiful while we were there with the sun coming about around 3:30, cool, probably high 70’s air temp with some over cast.  Just ideal I thought.

We started in the run and played with some fish, each catching a couple.  We had two rookies with us too and rigged them up with egg flies or nymphs and they did very well on browns and rainbows.  But that’s not why I came.  So I worked down on foot away from our little crowd.  The stream below the run only had a few guys all the way to Allenberry, but from the damn down was where all the people were, just below the dam and the next two hundred yards or more.  Probably 15 guys in that stretch, all fishing the deeper water on River right, the warmer water.  There was a distinct temperature difference that I noticed while wet wading starting about mid river.  The river right (Facing downstream) was far warmer than the left.  So the fish should be on the left right?  According to john that’s the case.  I saw plenty of rises to midges around 4-6pm in the slow stuff above allenberry, but like usual they are difficult.  I had prime water near the mouth of the run but left it to join the crowds?  Why?  My crew later drove the car to Allenberry and were working mediocre water below the crowds.  Very shallow riffles.  But when this hatch happens you can do well in a 5 inch riffle.  Or flat water.

We finally set up all the way at the bottom on the last bend.  There were a few guys working the deep flat stuff below us but we had the bottom of the bend pool with quite a few fish working the surface below a caterpillar nest.  Believe it or not but John noticed there was a squirrel in this one tree where the caterpillar nest was and it shook the tree from time to time and knocked caterpillars into the water.  Sure enough the fish responded.  If we threw something brown, it got attention.  We ended up cutting the legs and wings off of a brown hopper pattern and first three casts got a take with two landings of decent browns.  One of those rising browns on the far bank was well proportioned too, it was a very nice fish, no takes from him though. 

So now it’s 7pm or so and the hex’s first showed up.  We didn’t have the riffle section just above the pool because another gentlemen was there, I think he lived in the house behind us.  He was in the prime spot and sure enough was getting bit well when things started getting interesting with hex’s flying everywhere.  These guys were HUGE too.  I forgot how exciting it was just to see these flies dance over head with the anticipation that when one of these humming birds lands in the water, a swimming log in the form of hold over brown measured in pounds is going to explode on the thing.  Wishful thinking but I’m a fishermen and that’s what we do.  I started using a white wulf fly around 7pm and ended up cutting off some of the deer hair to thin it out some.  It got bit even when there were not many white flies around.  The guy above us was throwing a hex and was getting plenty of attention but kept missing the fish.  Sometime just before dark the white flies were everywhere, along with the hex’s and the guy above us said “it looks like they switched over to the white fly now.”  I had caught a few fish, all small 9 inch browns on white flies long before he said that.  But he got countless takes on the hex in the riffle prior to that.  I think only landing a couple but they were exploding on his fly all evening long.  A little frustrating.  But by now it was hot and heavy.  Mating pairs flying everywhere, fish rising everywhere too, slow water, fast water but mostly in the riffles/runs and we were in the pool more or less.  IF you could dance your fly and literally skip it on the surface, it got more attention.  My rookie friend fishing with me did well in the run previously but was having a hard time during the hatch.  No takes for him for some reason and we were all using basically the same fly, except maybe he didn’t trim is size 12 or 14 dry like I did.  It pays to keep it small like #16 if you can.  But I got more takes on a white wulff pattern with no anal antennae, just deer hair than I did with a realistic spinner pattern with two long anal antennae for whatever reason. 

We fished well, well past dark too.  Mostly because I’ve always had the understanding that hex’s don’t actually fall into the water until well past dark.  My Pere Marquette education from last year taught me that and years of studying the insect in my spare time.  Because they also hatch on the Monocacy this time of year.  They show up about a half hour before sunset but don’t come near the water till almost dark.  Most of the time barley bouncing on the surface.  But the true spinner fall?  When does that happen?  My thoughts were well after dark so I was hoping for bubba.  He never showed.  I even threw a mouse pattern around 9:00pm hoping for the unicorn fish of a lifetime.  OH well.  We did okay, saw plenty of rises but didn’t set the world on fire and I didn’t catch more fish than I could count with one hand.  The shop and my fishing buddy john said it was nowhere near its best.  The shop reporting past its peak.  But John says he usually does well from August 15^th to as late as September 1.  Looks like we missed the peak but I personally thought it was  spectacular hatch with plenty of bugs.  You just have to be in the right place with the right fly and right time.  I never did see anything of any size caught except a 15 incher from the guy above us and another 15inch from my rookie friend on a nymph in the run.  But it was still enjoyable, just wish I could take my education from yesterday and apply it on the water today.  But work and life got in the way and now I’m wasting my whole lunch hour reporting it to you.  It’s been a while since I’ve written a decent fishing report so here it is.  Get up there now is my advice.  Bring small white flies, even a mating pair pattern if you can.  Don’t’ forget the hexes.  Check out a picture I took of a two hexes that were caught in a spider web I found around 6pm.  Not sure if they were yesterday’s bugs or today’s but one was still alive just barley handing on to the thread a few feet over the water, above a perfect looking riffle that I never should have left. 

The other promising and noteworthy event of the trip was that we were still able to sit down at the bar in Allenberry after fishing, well after dark.  We didn’t get there till probably 9:30pm and were still able to order delicious burgers and soup, plus a few adult beverages amongst friends to relive the experience.  The bar staff were so polite and happy to see us that they said anytime we were fishing late, just call them in advance and they would stay open as late as we wanted them to from what I understood.  That could get interesting some nights.  But who knows when I’ll be back.  I think John didn’t catch enough fish yesterday and saw a promising enough hatch that he’s heading back up today.  I would if I could, that’s for sure. 

The below brown was caught around 4:30pm in the run on a #16 PT nymph by my friend Par. 

August 8, 2012

It's hot, damn hot.  Everywhere is just about dry, barren or dead.  Just about the worst time of year to be a fishermen... unless I suppose you're an opportunistic fishermen.  Let's see... what have I been up to?  Lot's of wetland delineation field work, plus I'm starting a new job next week so I've been a little busy..... but never busy enough to not go fishing. 

First, the one fish that could careless about a heat wave, low dissolved oxygen or even food supply is the lonely "prince of mud" or common carp.  They have invaded just about every body of water from the tundra to the Everglades.  Find a shallow, silty lake or stream with good access to a larger body of water and you've got yourself a match made in heaven this time of year.  Back during one hot July afternoon I passed by an urban public lake that has recently undergone a face life. The entire forebay of Lake Needwood, or that shallow confluence area of Rock Creek as it enters the lake to the north of Needwood road has been dredged, fish habitat has been installed and it's a gold mine to fish.  It always had its carp back there, actually they were easier to cast to before the lake improvements but there was far less habitat and far fewer fish.  Well, it's not difficult to see a sunning or "mudding" carp in the lake but it sure is difficult to convince one to take a fly.  I can't tell you how many times I've been skunked while trying to sight cast to a carp with a fly rod. But that one in one hundred time when you don't spook the 30+ inch carp on the cast and it actually changes course by 30 degrees towards your fly, well.... I think you'll understand the excitement. 

During this one afternoon during yet another record breaking heat wave I decided to start with a hopper/dropper pattern.  I was told somewhere that carp often will rise to a large hopper pattern.  Well, sure, why not.  I tied on one from last summer that I got from fishing on the Pere Marquette in Michigan. Except this hopper still had a small #16 pheasant tail nymph attached to the shank of the hook with a long leader of 6x tippet.  A popular method I deploy for picky trout. Trout that might spook from a traditional strike indicator and for an area where the trout might actually ignore the nymph and take the hopper.  Much for fun that way. well, who would have thought but the carp took the dropper... and I landed it!  At or very near 30 inches too.  Can't complain there.  I had a few more refusals on later trips in the same lake.  But the other pleasant surprise is that the bass fishing there is also excellent now because of the lake improvements.  There seems to have been a population explosion of life to the lake.  Minnows and YOY bluegill litter the shore.  Bass can been seen chasing schools of bait fish and damsel flies even in the dead middle of the highest sun.  I've done quite well there in an hours effort while fishing claw dads and poppers in mid afternoon for a measly hour of fishing to and from a job site every week.  So, you may want to do yourself a favor and give old Needwood a try sometime.

The next fish that likes warm, hot, useless water is the ever sporty, top water junky, invasive northern Snakehead.  This fish is bad ass.  It's got teeth like a musky with an attitude to match and best of all, this fish likes to look up.  Almost all day long too.  Frogs are always on the menu for these guys and shallow, warm, putrid water should not be overlooked. In fact, the silty, lifeless looking water furthest back in a bay where only a largemouth would dare travel after dark is where you want to start looking for these back yard brawlers, and even in the dead middle of the day.  Check out one Diego and I scored the other day.  Top water frog up against the spatter dock (Sp?)  We missed a few more that day fishing inside the airport plus found the highest concentration of quality largemouth I've fished over in a long, long time.  So, don't give up just yet.  I know it's tough out there right now.  I didn't have enough callus on my fingers to report all my skunks as of late.  We can't all be professionals but we all should be able to capitalize on over looked fisheries with a little intuition, determination and opportunism. 



Kayaking in the heat

July 7, 2012

It was one of the hottest days of the year and I had just finished a full days’ worth of field work delineating wetlands inside the Beltway.  I had consumed over a gallon of water and was about wiped out by the time we made it back to the office.  But Route 50 wasn’t that bad and my kayak was still on the roof from our trip to Kent Island visiting Pete for his birthday.  I never got a chance to use it.  Part of me wanted to get into a few fish since my wife and kids were at the beach.  By now it was peak rush-hour on route 50 catching the workers going home and mad weekend traffic making a mad dash across the bridge for some fun in the sun.  What the heck…. 20 minutes wait at the bridge but I’m across.  Head to Ace Hardware to build a tackle /rod storage device out of milk crate. It comfortably and confidently held 4 rods.  I dropped the kayak in at Hemmingway’s (no idea if that was legal) to hit the eastern shore pilings.  Why the eastern when the western side is so close and easy?  Because it just fishes better.  You have the sewer pipe there enclosed in tons of rip rap and the eastern side pilings just before the channel tend to almost always hold fish.  Sometimes, even now, past peak migration, they can be trophy size with the magic wand in the proper hands. 

Usually jigging ¾ oz head behind the pilings just before the drop off does the trick when rigged with long skinny plastics to cut down on drag and then popped violently off the bottom quickly enough not to get snagged and aggressively enough to entice a strike.  The strikes almost always come on the drop of the violent jig or whip of the rod.  Braided line is a must, as is a good heavy leader. 

I picked away at some fish with the sun still high in the sky but there were all dinks.  Around sunset the tide was waning and I thought my chances were useless.  I picked a bad day to hit the bridge with the tide at its weakest at the magic hour of the day.  But, with a little luck I drifted over a school.  First I hit the pipe in the deeper section with a few other boats from 16’ bass boats to 26 foot offshore center consoles.  The water was like glass out there tonight. 

There weren’t any fish taking top water or the jig for whatever reason.  Then I moved shallow once the sun had completely set and figured I’d work the pipe towards shore on my way home.  Well, there was one good hump with some decent disturbance and sure enough the fish were there.  First was the jig to get hit by a respectable 22 inch fish.  Then a bunch more dinks.  Then they were all over the surface but wouldn’t touch the spook for whatever reason.  They wanted that jig and they wanted it near the bottom.  Multiple hits per casts, many hook ups, many many fish to the kayak in that magic 30 minutes of ambient light when the blistering sun had finally set.  It’s almost as if the fish were waited for that magic hour.  The tide couldn’t have been any slower but that sun was just relentless all day long.  Once she was gone… look out.  It’s smart to only fish that first and last hour of light this time of year.  You’ll probably triple the number of fish in an hour’s fishing during that magic hour than you would all day otherwise. 

Get out there… easy close to home fishing.