Lots of Bass Remain after Big Fishkill

Expected my son would nail a bass immediately by the culvert, the entryway of rainwater just after the heavy thunderstorm had passed through, clouds remaining pretty dense, as you can see in the photo. Nothing hung there during the several times we tried it during a half hour, although Matt left after 10 minutes to meet a friend, leaving me with my wife, Patricia, and our black Lab.

By that time, I caught a small one, and pretty soon another bigger than this bass photographed, caught along that shoreline captured in the photo, behind me. Here where I stand with this next bass, water had a muddy density, and bass hit almost one right after the other as dusk set in, my wife and I conversing, the bass secondary to what we had to say, though I got some interjections in.

"Look at that, Trish! Did you see how it exploded on the surface? This is a nice one."

Well, all of the five more measured about the same as the bass photographed, one or two just seemed bigger at first, another had a length of about a foot, another nine inches or so. After the fateful winter of 2014/2015 when dozens of bass as big and bigger than these I caught today died, killed by anoxic conditions under ice, Matt and I finding them all along shorelines, one of them Matt found at least five pounds, after all this, there's still a lot of fish. It's just that seven bass this size in a half hour used to be pretty slow, especially just after heavy rain.

Spring Trout Anticipations for New Jersey Now and for the Future

Frenchtown Cliffs of Nishisakawick Creek

 Expect a full stocking schedule this spring 

          Last year, New Jersey Division of Fish & Wildlife's Pequest Hatchery stocked rivers, streams, ponds and lakes in our region with 180,000 rainbow trout before Opening Day, Saturday, April 4^th. Much the same awaits us this year for Saturday, April 9^th, and on into the season. Nearly 600,000 rainbow trout will be stocked by the end of May. Since rainbows have proved to be resistant to furunculosis, don’t expect any brown or brook trout for an uncertain length of time.

          Most of us remember the disease debacle a couple of years ago, and I’m sure a lot of us hope to see brookies and browns again in the future. I didn’t attend the Pequest Hatchery meeting at the end of last month, and I’ve regretted this, mostly because I would have liked to have asked about the stocking of my favorite Hunterdon County streams, and possibly other little creeks of which I don’t know about the stocking slack. Last year, Fish & Wildlife signs got posted with few or any trout associated with them stocked in the Wickecheoke Creek near Stockton, and I’d like to know the reasons for the demise of the Hakihokake Creek in Milford and Nishisakawick Creek at Frenchtown, both of these streams true New Jersey gems, the former reputedly serving the reproduction of wild browns but perhaps fallen victim to the complaints of property owners. As far as I know, the land bordering the Hakihokake is no more developed than during the 1970’s, but have social attitudes ever changed since then. However, the Nishisakawick is wild and wonderful between Frenchtown and CR 519 miles upstream, so property issues don't seem to be the reason. Otherwise, I’m sure that issue—brookies and browns in our future—got discussed two months ago, but I just haven’t heard.

          The Highlands region is all about the state’s water resources and this translates into trout for whoever wants to go fish. As I say, at least most places. If you travel far up into Warren and Sussex, you may find the crowds thin somewhat. The Big Flatbrook a major stream flowing most northwestern, little creeks like Clove Brook in Wantage Township or Glenwood Brook in Vernon are really special. By comparison to brooks, I’m a little awed by the familiar North Branch Raritan River here where I live in Bedminster. I feel large flow leans on the heavy side and fish little creeks best. Regardless, I would feel awkward catching a brazen smallmouth bass in a tiny pool, on the other hand.

          This is why, growing up in Mercer County, I never fished Beden’s Brook, even though I knew for sure it held smallmouths as large as 17 inches. With trout, it’s a different story. I used to drive from Lawrence Township to the Delaware Watergap and fish little Dunnfield Creek for native brook trout and wild browns. Otherwise, I caught stocked rainbows in Holland Township and Milford Borough’s tiny Hakihokake, experiencing some of my life’s finest moments. A trickling flow can put you directly in touch with life’s essence. There’s little arguing against the point that water is this.

          Creeks usually function as headwaters for popular rivers such as Warren County’s Pequest with big holdover trout and plenty 15 to 24-inch breeder rainbows stocked. If you want to fish big water, additional possibilities include the Paulinskill in Warren and Sussex; Musconetcong in Morris and dividing Warren and Hunterdon; Black, Rockaway, South Branch Raritan and Passaic in Morris; Ramapo, Wallkill, Wanaque, Pequannock, and Pompton in Passaic; the Ramapo, Saddle and Hackensack in Bergen; and the Passaic, Lamington and North Branch Raritan River in Somerset. These are major streams well worth the effort shared with rather convivial crowds, but again, little creeks listed online—numerous—may be more endearing to you than any larger water’s austerity. Let’s not forget this at the Pequest Hatchery.

          For the past three years my son and I, along with two of his uncles and a cousin on some occasions, have fished the Locatong and Nishisakawick creeks among Hunterdon hills, catching nothing in the Nishisakawick, since nothing was there but minnows and dace. A fair number of other anglers have accompanied us at the Locatong, good conversation struck up with fewer people than the North Branch Raritan entertained during preceding years. The rural character of the region explored in-between bridge stops engenders an authentic feeling reminding me of New England, 18^th and 19^th century history deeply engrained in charmed settings. Two years ago, we drove past Sergeantsville Inn and I made a mental note to perhaps have my family dine there. The Inn burned down just last year after about 300 years of fine service. This is an irreplaceable loss, though it’s consoling I’m familiar with other historical restaurants near streams in Stockton, Frenchtown and Milford. We ate at Milford’s Ship Inn in October and have yet to try the Oyster House around the corner and the Frenchtown Inn on back down the road in the direction of Trenton.      

          For those of us who like to use the lightest spinning tackle possible in these places—no, not literally in these restaurants, but whether on rivers or creeks—two-pound test monofilament and salmon eggs prove elementary to method effective for nearly two months this year. Browns traditionally stocked in May tend to shun salmon eggs, not rainbows. However, the classic 70-degree calm evenings that bring on insect hatches for the last two weeks or so of stocking—traditionally inciting browns to rise in amazing numbers throughout river slow stretches suitably deep—may serve as tests to find if rainbows refuse salmon eggs quickly after stockings for an exclusively buggy diet. I may never know, because as soon as I see rainbows rise, I’m fly fishing.

          This year I’ll again exercise my new six-foot, two-weight TFO outfit. A river like the North Branch Raritan flowing through Bedminster accommodates an eight-foot, five-weight rod just fine and with advantages of quicker, longer casts, but I want to feel better what it’s like on a very light rod. Another idea anyone else can try is butter worms. They’re available from California online and a good idea for any shop owners. Now the secret’s out.  

         

Trout: Small Highlands Streams of New Jersey

Highlands small streams offer fine trout fishing

          Small streams throughout the Highlands region offer trout fishing in delicate settings, and becoming familiar with some over time increases the personal value. During my teenaged years I fished Hunterdon County, New Jersey, streams flowing into the Delaware River. Opening Day 1975 began at Wickecheoke Creek for two friends and me, along with one of the friend’s father. We progressed northward to Locatong Creek near Raven Rock, Nishisakawick Creek at Frenchtown and a stream in Milford now no longer stocked. I never learned the name of this final destination, the smallest of the streams which excited me deeply.

          I had never before experienced such close contact with trout. Both rainbow and brook trout swam clearly in view as we sight-fished with salmon eggs. The trout seemed to symbolize something elusively valuable almost in my hand's reach. Late in the afternoon at outing’s end, we agreed on amazing fishing, although neither friend quite understood how deeply the experience impressed me.

          As a 10-year-old, I had first encountered brook trout at Little Shabakunk Creek, Lawrence Township in Mercer County. Little Shabakunk flows about as wide as a school hallway into Assunpink Creek stocked with brook trout that spring long ago, so I reasoned that the several trout I caught on worms swam upstream the one-mile distance. Three years later, having been informed of a fish hatchery selling trout to private buyers, I explored the upper reach of Little Shabakunk narrow enough to jump over. My fantasy about stocking these headwaters signifies an emotional bond I formed with little creeks and the possibility of trout. I never thought of explaining the excitement in 1975 to my friends as having this factual basis. A 14-year-old hasn’t connected the dots of his personal development as an older man may.

          One of these friends and I kept fishing the Hunterdon streams. Both friends have moved out-of-state since, while in recent years I returned to these creeks with my son. Elsewhere in the Highlands, so many brooks, creeks and even tiny rills have trout that an attempt to list them all might easily fill the number of words fitting this post. Many streams contain wild trout, especially brown trout. Quite a number have native brook trout, including some tiny unnamed streams. But before you fish a stream that may have wild or native trout, be sure to check online the list of designated Wild Trout Streams to gain the information about regulations. Nevertheless, streams not on that list flourishing with stocked trout in April and May can offer angling experiences as exquisite as any in the world, because the angler's innocent reception of life is much more critical than pristine status.

          The bad news is that at least some streams on the stocking list online may not get many trout from the Pequest Hatchery. Visiting Hunterdon creeks for the past four years, my son and I have scouted Wickecheoke Creek and felt disappointed. Three years ago, water clear enough to spot a dime on deep bottom revealed no trout anywhere we looked—bridge areas and a deep hole under a cliff. We cast salmon eggs, just in case trout hid under rocks, nothing. On Opening Day this year, trout seemed all but absent, and my son and I encountered two other fishermen along a two-mile length of the Wickecheoke posted here and there by New Jersey Division of Fish and Wildlife stocking notifications. Fortunately, the Locatong Creek yielded many trout for us during three consecutive years, though I’ve heard complaints about streams elsewhere.

          In February 1975 an older friend told me, “In the spring, every one of these rocks has a trout behind it,” as he pointed while driving along the Wickecheoke. Indeed, the Wickecheoke and the other Hunterdon streams received plentiful stockings. If records of the stocking numbers are not kept by the state going back 40 years to compare with the present, I know the fishing logs of at least two anglers do keep records of New Jersey catches this long ago. My friend fished the Wickecheoke and Locatong during 1970’s winters and on occasion caught a trout or two. Fall stocking in New Jersey didn’t begin until the early 1980’s, so the fish he caught survived through summer, which is a remarkable feat for trout dwelling in streams notably lacking springs.

          If you can’t find many trout in small streams designated as stocked by the state, you may have good reason to question and complain. The New Jersey Division of Fish and Wildlife hosts an annual public trout stocking meeting in February at the Pequest Hatchery. Questions get taken and voices heard. In my opinion, little creeks offer the finest fishing, whether of stocked, wild or native trout, and they should not be shirked so that waters with bigger names get fish belonging to the brooks that contribute to them.        

         

Knee Deep Club Hosts Trout and Pickerel Derbies

Knee Deep Club hosts a two-fish derby on Lake Hopatcong, Sunday, April 17th. Enter either or both the trout and pickerel contests; each is $20.00 for members, $25.00 for non-members, either by mailing in the form accessible online, or registering on the 17th at either weigh station until 8:00 a.m. that Sunday. Only Dow's Boat Rentals and Lake's End Marina serve weigh stations. If all goes as planned, Brian and I will enter the trout contest.

The club will stock trout next weekend, good-size fish; last year an eight-pound brown got released in the mix, and I expect the same will happen this year, plenty of others better than three pounds. In addition, the state stocks the lake with trout, and the fishing is pretty frisky in April. Since the lake is only 50 feet deep at best, and oxygen depletion during hot summers forces fish in August to remain 18 feet and shallower in warmish water until September, trout typically die off. However, we had such a mild summer a couple of years ago, some trout got caught into July. If you spend time on the lake and get to know people, you may hear murmurs about possible springs in places that keep a few trout alive, but all of this is speculation as far as I know, though of course New Jersey Highlands geological features include a lot of groundwater releases throughout the region.

Laurie Murphy recently emailed her first 2016 Lake Hopatcong report, and some pickerel approaching four pounds have been caught. Also, the word on the lake is crappie, as it always is this time of year with many coves and spots like the Brady Bridge productive. The typical crappie isn't very large, maybe 10 inches, but some over two pounds get caught on seldom occasion. Joe Landolfi and I jigged for walleye late in September once, and Joe hooked up 34 feet down, surprising as it was to me that we marked fish so deep that early in the fall season. The crappie weighed just an ounce or so more than a pound-and-a-half.

Trout Fishing with Better to Come

A couple of weeks ago I told myself getting out just one day this month will be sufficient, as busy as I am. Last I fished here at Round Valley, early in February, something took a big shiner and nearly all the line off my spool by the time I got to the rod, my 11-foot steelhead noodle rod that has better casting reach. That fish has the shiner in it's gullet! I readied for the fight with a nice laker. Nothing there. It took a hundred yards of line or more, but stripped the shiner from the hook.

So I imagined today would be the day to make up for the loss, and fellow writer Jim Stabile had informed me lakers get caught from shore in March. My experience is hardly informed in all respects, so to get word on the possibility helped. Dave, photographed above talking to Fred, told me laker action has been spotty, but they've been around, just as he's been fishing here every chance he gets all winter. A young man came from around the bend and showed me the Rapala he twitched on the surface to catch two browns! He said they were only about 11 inches, so I take it the Round Valley Trout Association has already stocked the small browns as planned, which we hope grow large and healthy.

I had got to Behr's and the shop is closed Tuesdays. I knew that from last year, and yet I didn't even think of reminding myself by a quick internet check. I phoned Fred to tell him I would go to Flemington and hoped they have shiners. I still haven't advanced to a mobile device, relying yet on a flip phone, so I had no way of finding out. Besides asking Fred to check.

"I'm 10 minutes from Efinger's," Fred said. Turned out he was at Vosseller Avenue just when I called, so he picked up a dozen large in a bucket with an aerator from his car.

The outing began in wind and chilly, cloudy weather, but it ended in very mild, calm sunshine. It's been a hell of a winter for me; my mood's been awful for most of it since November, but I've been very productive at getting things done anyhow. So long as you're getting ahead, it doesn't matter how you feel, since it's all but inevitable reward will come. With enough to deal with as is, a number of things went wrong since the River Styx ice fishing outing, costly and just what I needed to load on after going pretty far south anyway, so getting out and experiencing the only world that never really fails--the natural world that doesn't give a damn about us, is what it is, and will be whatever it is no matter what we do to it--reminded me of much better days to come.

Superfund Site in Ringwood "Holes and Caves"

My wife, Patricia, follows the news much more closely than I do. She majored in journalism at Boston University, so it's no surprise she has a much keener mind about current affairs than I do. Nearly five years ago, prompted by reading Manny Luftglass's Gone Fishin' in New Jersey late in 2010, I took our son, Matt, to Shepherd Lake near Ringwood, New Jersey, off Sloatsburg Road near the New York state border, in Ringwood State Park. Patricia warned me of a Superfund site nearby and that we shouldn't bring any fish home.

Back a year or two before we got married, in the mid-90's, we visited Ringwood Manor and also hiked a couple of trails in the area. She's the quiet sort who thinks privately more than she says. We never discussed the Superfund site until the possibility, or so it seemed, of a foul meal involved us.

One of the things we had explored in the area, old iron works have a nearly ubiquitous presence in North Jersey. During the 18th and/or 19th centuries, much of the land forested now got clear-cut to fuel iron furnaces, and many mines now remain scattered among the mountains, abandoned shafts that served real purpose as the American Industrial Revolution gained power.

And then came the 20th century, which Superfunds are all about. Cleaning up after the party. Two North Jersey mines near Ringwood--Peter's Mine and Cannon Mine--got stuffed with chemical waste containing 1,4 dioxane, suspected of causing cancer in people. Only now it's coming out in the news that dioxane is in the groundwater up there at specific testing sites (we live in Bedminster, central Jersey) 50 to 95 times the New Jersey Environmental Protection Agency's safe standard.

What a strange fate for innocent mine shafts. And according to the article I read, residents in the toxic area have reported serious illnesses and early deaths.

Here's the link to an article about the mess: http://www.northjersey.com/news/epa-did-not-disclose-ringwood-contamination-1.1516597

New Jersey Outdoor Alliance to Host Feast

The grassroots New Jersey Outdoor Alliance mission involves stewardship of the state's environment while championing fishing, hunting and trapping among policy leaders, opinion makers and the public. They have an online legislative action format from which anyone can participate, and I suggest you go to http://capwiz.com/njoutdooralliance/home/ and before you finish reading, click on and read the Chairman's message to get an idea of how politically effective as NJ outdoor participants we are.

And NJOA serves great food, an opportunity like I've never seen before.

On Sunday, March 13th, beginning at 4:00 pm, the Aichem family of chefs at the Black Forest Inn, 249 U.S. Highway 206 in Stanhope, is serving NJOA a feast of venison, wild boar, pheasant, turkey, freshly caught fish and more. This is an opportunity to meet pro-outdoors state legislators, officials from NJ hunting, fishing and pro-outdoors organizations which comprise NJOA Conservation Foundation, and to support the NJOA grassroots effort. Tickets stand at $100.00 per person.

Chris Lido sent us information, and I wrote back that I was thinking of coming. "Bruce, the food alone is worth more than the price," he wrote back. I told him I agree, but we're going to wait until next year--and I hope this event is hosted again--since, well, the economy just isn't as good as MSNBC sometimes makes it seem.