Feeder Creeks Make Low Water an Opportunity

Nine-inch pike hit large Smithwick plug.

Yesterday, on the way to Round Valley Reservoir for a dog walk and photo shoot with my wife and black Lab Loki, and on the way back home from the same and ice cream at Polar Cub, I thought hard on what to do about fishing today. When we drove the bridge over Rockaway Creek, I took a good look at that stream's low level and knew exactly where I wanted to fish. Somewhere along the Passaic River by walking the bank. 

After we got home, I texted Brenden Kuprel, asking him if he'd been fishing it. He got back in minutes, saying he'd caught a small pickerel and had a blowup on a Whopper Plopper. I told him I'd be fishing it tomorrow and that he's welcome to meet me there if he wants. He told me he wasn't sure what he was doing tomorrow, but one thing and another happened, and today we decided on meeting at a bridge over the river. 

The river gets some pressure there, but as Brenden put it, mostly "within a hundred yards of the bridge." We headed downstream, and our passage was probably possible only because of the low water. A lot of little creeks feed into the river, and getting across them is probably impossible when water is higher. With us included in the river's ecology, those creeks protect the resource, and make low water an opportunity. 

But what happened to make today opportune? Well, it was the fish Brenden didn't hook. The one that went after his spinner with more than a little drama. He cast a big Colorado-bladed inline spinner, and I saw the blowup on it, too. I think the fish had to have been at least five pounds. Likely more than that. We fished the area thoroughly, catching a few little nine-inch pike apparently stocked recently, and made a mental note to fish the spot on the way back. 

We must have worked our way downstream a half mile or more, before we turned back. That involved crossing at least a half dozen little feeder creeks. Avoiding deep mud in the process. Once, I stepped onto a log  in the mud, then tried to leap up a bank, falling instead, so that my face got planted where my feet would have gained traction, Loki the black Lab licking it profusely.

Good dog! I got up as if it were nothing, because I could walk straight, nothing turned in the wrong direction. Other little creeks I cleared as if I have decades of good balance left. 

Before we began making the march back out, I had almost hooked a pike that impressed me as being about 18 inches long. I had my drag set light. I loosen drags at home to take the stress off them. Perhaps they'll last longer. But then I have to remember to tighten them down, or something like today's lost pike happens. I tried to set the hooks and my drag screeched, rather than the hooks actually getting set. 

Back at the spot where Brenden got hit by the big one, I caught yet another little pike, about a foot long. Brenden had caught another little nine-incher and a couple of little yellow perch back along the way. 

It wasn't an outright skunker. The pike we caught were too little, but at least they made their presence known. Above all, the big one that blew up on Brenden's spinner. And the one I had one for a second would have been OK catch, too. I've never caught a pike bigger than 20 inches from the Passaic, but I always find the river compelling. So does Brenden, who lives near the river, and has caught four pike better than 10 pounds, so far.    

Large tree virtually growing out of the river.

 

Passaic Pike

Lake Wallenpaupack From Shore: Schuman Point and Other Spots

Lake Wallenpaupack is like any other lake where you can find shoreline access: Chances are good some of what you can get to will hold bass and other gamefish. I didn't know it for a fact before I got up there and tried a few spots, but it didn't surprise me that I caught a couple of fish. We stayed at the lake region for a few days beginning on my wife's birthday, and instead of blowing 500 bucks on a charter, I got a three-day license and fished a little for two days while Trish sat comfortably and read. If I want to get serious about smallmouths, I can rent a Stumpknocker from Dow's on Lake Hopatcong. I just felt curious about what I might catch where probably just about everyone else gets skunked.

When I began fishing late Sunday afternoon in a little cove commandeered by a marina, a couple of other guys had been fishing, and as they left, they told me they'd caught nothing. I like to piece things apart as if I'm looking in every corner for an old coin. That dock in the lower left of the photo, below, was the object of my deconstruction, and if I fished with the lackluster gusto of most fishermen, I wouldn't have engaged in a process of covering every inch in the attempt to get whatever bass that might hide underneath docks and boats interested. Most fishermen fish as if they don't believe any fish exist. 

I caught the bass photographed above on a Yum Dinger rigged Wacky. Little bass. But a bass. I also tried to set the hook into another one that took the same worm, but missed that hit. Hooking a three-pound largemouth didn't seem out of the realm of possibility to me.

On Monday, we planned on hiking the Schuman Point Hiking Trail, but decided to wait until Tuesday morning to hike it entirely. Instead, we hiked directly to the lake from the parking lot, where I did more thorough fishing and Trish read her book. As you can see in the photo, the reservoir's water level is down three or four feet, and many of the rocks are good material for holding smallmouth bass, easy to assume more of the same exists under the water. Judging by my losing two Yum Dingers to snags, I would say so. 

I used crayfish-colored worms. I saw more a few dead crayfish. Apparently, there were thousands of them among the rocks.

Having switched to a Husky Jerk jerkbait, I covered range a lot quicker than I had been doing with the Wacky rig. I worked my way down to the deadfall you can barely see in the middle of the photo, where I caught a small northern pike I didn't photograph. Taking it all the way back to the camera I left behind might have killed it. Only about a foot long, the fish seemed really delicate. 

Before I fished the next spot Monday afternoon, Mangan Cove, I had already imagined most of the bass are deep. In close to shore where my casts might have reached 10-foot depths at most, the fishing will probably be a lot better in October. It's probably good in May, too. At Mangan Cove, the situation was similar, with rocks and rather shallow water. I got three pulls on my Yum Dinger from sunfish, rock bass, or tiny little smallmouths. 

The water might be clearer in October, too. Its green hue seems to be caused by algae, which gives it a rather cloudy appearance. Also, unlike in the finger lakes we visited three years ago, we found no weedbeds. I would have felt very confident in finding some largemouths had we found weeds. From what I've read, though, smallmouths outnumber largemouths here seven to one. Given the amount of rock we observed, it's no mystery as to why. 

If, for whatever, reason, you're interested in fishing a lake from shore, you can catch some fish if you persist at it. During the spring and fall, you'll probably do better. Just before my wife and I headed home, we hiked the entire Schuman Point Trail. About a half mile down lake from where I had caught the northern, we took a break by the water. A guy in a bass rig was casting a jerkbait about as far out as I could cast one from the shore edge, which gave me the impression that the water must be shallower than 10 feet, or he might have been casting a diving plug. I watched him as he made his way with a bow-mount electric, and I watched him as he hooked up, caught, and released a smallmouth of about 13 inches. I hadn't brought my rod, even though my license was still good. I just wanted to hike the three miles and get on the road. But, yeah, I kinda wished I had.  

Bottom was less rocky in the little cove.

Schuman Point Trail straight down from the parking lot.

Mangan Cove

Finger Lakes from Shore