Went after the Big One

Two guys fished in the spot where I lost the 16-incher yesterday. I went downstream, missed some hits, caught two. I forgot to replace the one-pound test Fireline with two-pound test monofilament. The line test isn't the problem. Fireline is composed of thread-like material that salmon egg oil gums up. I gave up on a good spot because casting became all but impossible. I could not quite get the eggs in the zone, and too many flew off the hook. With two-pound mono and about the lightest tip possible for a rod, the weight of a single salmon egg and no more than a snap without swivel is enough for most situations. And if a little more reach is needed, snapping on a second leader adds the weight of another egg.

Further downstream a fast run has produced a lot of trout in the past, but today not one hit. The casting distance I could manage without tearing the salmon eggs off the hooks sufficient, there just didn't seem to be any fish here.

A nice, short romp. When I get a chance, I'm going to strip off the expensive Fireline and replace it. I may be back for more rainbows on salmon eggs yet.

North Branch Raritan River Rainbows on Salmon Eggs

Guys casting Trout Magnets and the like pulled four or five trout apiece out of the river in 10 or 15 minutes, and then the rainbows got picky. The jigs simply plummet for bottom and trout swoop on them. It's very easy to fish that way. Hookups are a sure bet, when trout tend to steal salmon eggs at least as often as get hooked. Where I positioned having come in at 4:40 (North Branch is restricted to 5 pm opening on stocking days), I could not quite put salmon eggs on the trout. Besides, I still fiddled with figuring out how current carried the eggs before the guy to my left had five trout and quit after 15 minutes. I caught an average rainbow, yet wasn't satisfied with the eggs on snell hooks, double leaders snapped on with no added weight, no swivel...I wasn't sure they got in the zone, so I snapped on a small swivel for added weight, and then decided this was too much and undid it.

I began missing hits, and lost at least a couple of trout I played for awhile. I use a 3 1/2-foot spinning rod about 8mm wide at the butt. It's got a much lighter tip than my 2 weight, six-foot fly rod. With two-pound test mono, a 10-inch trout makes drag useful. Today I tried one-pound test Fireline and do not recommend it for this kind of fishing. Salmon egg oil makes casting very frustrating. It gums the line on the spool and I felt relieved I could fish at all. Mono gets to be something of a mess, but not really a problem.

I missed more hits than I would want to admit. The difficulty in drifting salmon eggs as a method involves hookset especially. In general, if you let a trout take too long, it steals the bait, but if you set too soon, you might pull the hook through the egg without catching any of the mouth. Add to this the wide range of how trout take eggs. Sometimes a trout takes an egg whole and instantly gets hooked deep in the mouth as it turns like lightening. Another trout lips an egg and sort of chews on it without ever getting the hook point in position to catch. If you wait on a fish like that, it will simply force the egg from the hook, and you never really had a chance to set anyhow.

There are days you never get it right. Other times, it comes together and you catch most of the trout that take. It's easy, once you start on the wrong foot, to go downhill during the rest of the outing. One screw-up leads to more confusion, and you just don't get the timing right.

In between spots I enjoyed the persistent call of a red-winged blackbird. The first I have noticed this year. I also felt the presence of a brown dirt trail I walked remind me of river smallmouth bass fishing during summer, a much more relaxed pursuit than trout fishing among so many competitors on a stocking day.

I found a nice little run all by myself where I saw at least half a dozen trout through polarized lenses. Then a real nice one came into view, which I watched finally snatch an egg. Missed this trout of at least 16 inches. Despite so many fish humiliating me, I lingered and fished hard, missing hits here and there. Finally, I came to the bottom of my jar of Mike's Shrimp Eggs. With the two leaders on one snap I got a lot of casts with the last two eggs before one slipped off the hook. Now one egg left, I still managed to gain casting distance and make the zone. I saw my line stop when current would have carried it and reared back. That big trout shuddered for a second in my view on the line and felt great, gone the next instant.  

Spruce Run Reservoir Warm Evening Low Level

With 70-degree temperatures, a strong south breeze and some sun warming the water, I felt this evening might be one of those special experiences with northern pike, slab crappies and largemouths feeding near the mouth of Spruce Run Creek.

We drove onto the bridge and I said, "This is not good, Fred. We'll have a look."

Water down at least four feet, something of a basin forms near the tip of the earthen jetty, four or five feet deep. Perhaps some fish would move in and settle in those depths, but I felt like having a look at Black Brook Cove. I almost decided on unpacking for the jetty, and yet if we didn't check what the other spot looks like with water down, we'd never know.

We pulled in. "This would be a great spot to launch a kayak," Fred said. "I haven't been here in ages."

It didn't look promising. Too shallow where I hoped for a drop. Nevertheless, the creek channel has definition and I felt sure fish might move right up within casting range of a live-lined shiner. I set two bobbers also. Fred figured a pike might hit a Zara Spook. He got great casting range with it.

Water pretty cold, maybe it hit 50 today at most in shallows, if that. I got the bass live-lining the channel and missed a hit from something on a bobber rig. The bobber popped under, then back up, just as a pike plays with the bait. But when it finally went down, the line moved off slow like a bass takes. My guess: a bass small enough not to have got hooked.

Where are the Trout?



Three consecutive Opening Days at Locatong Creek felt deeply satisfying, but I find I move on in life before something or other begins to feel old. This way, I keep youth alive despite having outwardly clocked 54 years. Until Thursday, I figured we would forgo Opening Day this year. My family had plans to eat at the Ship Inn in Milford and hike to the Ice Cave, an abandoned iron mine just north of Phillipsburg. We got a family invitation for Easter, plans changed, and desire stirred to fish little Hakiokake Creek. I had an amazing experience fishing here Opening Day 1975.

In Milford, two creeks meet. The larger is designated Hakiokake. I'm not sure of the smaller creek's name, the creek photographed above where friends and I enjoyed trout fishing 1975 and times since. My son and I got out of the car. He walked upstream, I went downstream. Neither of us sighted any trout nor any Fish & Wildlife notices up. I may get around to checking online the stocking schedule to see if two creeks in Milford and Holland Township are listed.

We stopped at the public park beside the slightly larger creek. Here perhaps half a dozen people fished at about 11:00 a.m. I got word of 20 trout caught just upstream at a bridge, but I didn't care to fish. For me, it was a matter of revisiting my 1975 experience or else passing on fishing today. Matt's an aloof 16 and hadn't any outward insistence on trying.

We drove off, Wickecheochee Creek in mind to visit on a roundabout way home. I realized I had left my fishing license at home with stuff I need to sort. Matt's forgetful mind is like mine, so naturally he forgot his license too, now new to being licensed. No fishing for us today, but we would have a look at the Creek near Stockton I so admire.

We got as far as the green bridge, driving west from Route 29. Someone intending to fish pulled in behind. Here it is Opening Day, no one around, Fish & Wildlife notices up. I dropped three salmon eggs from atop the bridge while wearing polarized sunglasses, water below not perfectly clear, but clear enough to watch the eggs descend about five feet to no takers. I could only guess that if any trout had been stocked, they're very few. A few years back the situation here felt much the same. The few who fished reported nothing.

Meanwhile, my son had walked downstream. I watched with apprehensive eagerness as he attempted to cross the fairly wide Creek by hopping rocks. He got wet almost to his knees. And he persisted, looking in the water closely as he continued to walk. Suddenly he raised both hands to signal the size of a very big fish and waved me down.

Some must have been stocked. He guessed the trout to have been about 20 inches, darting upstream and out of sight through very shallow riffles. Surprising.

We rode on a mile or two to the Covered Bridge. We sighted one angler fishing. I noticed a few more Fish & Wildlife designations along the way. It's as if everyone has given up on trout fishing the Wickeocheochee, certainly not because it's an unsightly place.

Some years ago, I took Matt to Locatong Creek and very few trout seemed to have been stocked. Quite a number of people tried; very few reported any catches.

Where are the trout? If Fish & Wildlife designates a creek to be stocked, it should be. Where are the voices? I'm typing mine. Fish & Wildlife holds a public meeting concerning trout stocking in February at Pequest Hatchery.

Creeks offer fine trout fishing. I think some of the very finest, since close, intimate settings allow particularity of experience big name streams, lakes and ponds can't provide.

The word from Fish & Wildlife is that nearly 600,000 trout will be stocked this spring.

Wickecheoche

Topwater Bass Small North Jersey Lake

Don't remember what I laughed about, not the bass.

Here's a piece ahead of time about fishing a small lake in North Jersey. Information may be helpful for any number of destinations.

If you own no larger than a small boat and trailer, you may enjoy good largemouth fishing on any of fairly shallow eutrophic lakes. The primitive gravel ramp we employed provides convenient launching for a kayak, canoe, inflatable, portable, or cartop boat, and I’ve heard of the successful trailer launch of a 14-foot V-hull. My son, Matt, and I discovered that our 12-foot inflatable Intex Excursion really is a very comfortable and efficient craft. It inflates quickly with a 12-volt air pump used for tent mattresses. We’ve launched it on Merrill Creek Reservoir and Split Rock Reservoir, two undesirable outings we don’t care to repeat. I was reluctant to use the boat again! Rolling over Merrill Creek waves and hauling the heavy boat and marine battery a long distance at Split Rock wasn’t pleasant. But so long as water surface rests relatively calm, the boat feels like a comfort chair, casting from it easy and unimpaired. We power the boat with a 55-pound thrust Minn Kota electric motor. Perhaps needless to say, gas outboards are not allowed on most small lakes.

          My portable Humminbird graph recorder showed 10-foot depths not far beyond the ramp, and we found that most of the water on the near side of the island is about this deep. We didn’t fish the back of the lake, but I imagined shallower flats. The lake’s acres brim with water of good quality, but it’s not as clear as Lake Musconetcong used to be, for example.

          Aquatic vegetation abundant, it's not as thick as I had expected. The lake mostly open water, the challenge is to fish edges and pockets of weeds very carefully. Senko-type worms and slower sinking traditional plastic worms rigged weightless with an inset hook would be effective, particularly in the middle of the day when topwater plugs usually get ignored by bass. My son and I favor surface fishing whenever we can catch fish, and that’s when light intensity increases or decreases, sun fading from the time of our arrival, and the bass sight-advantaged over prey.

          For the first 20 minutes or so, we became anxious. Then I hooked my first bass, and we sank into the pleasant reverie of being on the water with the skunk off. There’s nothing like a good-looking lake letting us down to spoil our estimate of the Highlands region of which we're familiar. That sort of event turns the world upside down. Another bass struck minutes later, both fish only about a pound apiece, but making the lake feel promising.

          Quickly released, they have the potential to grow quite large in a lake like this. Matt pointed out a school of forage fish with small predator fish of some kind bursting into them. The forage seemed like herring, but surely shiners of some variety caught our attention. We watched dazzling reflections on silvery scales caught in vanishing sunlight as the fish leapt. The presence of these brilliant, tiny pulses of energy relative to the focus of our concentration on them, they seemed more significant than the physical size of the fish. Whenever I see baitfish in addition to bluegills and other sunfish, I think the lake has good potential for lunkers just as important to let go.

          We didn’t take any hits from big fish, but we caught several more one-pound bass before dusk deepened. All struck topwater plugs. Particularly aware of my casting as I repeatedly plunked my Hedden Torpedo on the proverbial dime, the practice will last until next time. This involved more than hitting the target. I fished with persistent, yet relaxed, energy. Allowing the mind to feel out what seems to be the best possibility of a lair will, over time, put you on more fish. How do animals in the wild find prey? More is involved than assessing facts. Animals other than humans have no concept of facts anyhow, but they possess acute senses that lead them where they need to go.

          Do we still have senses like other animals buried beneath our everyday minds? Not only do we in the form of intuition; to awaken such productive guesswork also heightens aesthetic appreciations, and can lead to unexpected solutions of any sort of problem in life. That’s why we call fishing re-creation. Above all, a good evening on the water clears the mind so you can face tougher challenges in life refreshed.     

Open Water in New Jersey

A week ago Thursday, my neighborhood bass pond opened up. The fountains left on all winter helped keep some water open, and besides, a small creek feeds the pond; heavy rains erode ice fast. That's especially to look for, if you want to catch bass while people continue to ice fish the likes of Lake Hopatcong. In fact, guys were out this past weekend on the ice. Ponds with creeks entering them serve an alternative. Rain may muddy water, but once that clears, bass can be caught.

The photograph is of my black lab Sadie and Bedminster Pond along the Hike and Bike Trail and just off U.S. 206. While my neighborhood pond was open, I visited here last Friday and though ice was on the way out, it still covered. See the other photo.

The report from Beher's Bait and Tackle indicates Round Valley Reservoir yet frozen, and Hopatcong isn't expected to be completely open for Opening Day trout season. Who knows, really, given a couple of 70-degree days. Tomorrow night, teens. We hoped to fish Round Valley for trout Sunday, but with the chill, I can only hope some time next week.

My buddy Noel told me on the phone earlier that his favorite private pond is still frozen. I had a look at the Wood Duck Pond here in Bedminster. The ice is shot, but still covering. Noel suggested Manasquan Reservoir remains iced over, though his information is dated and he was unsure. Go to the Pinelands and fish pickerel. I'm sure open water awaits.

The Delaware's a bet for walleye, if the water's clear, and the Passaic River yields a lot of pike during the past week or more down below the sections reserved for stocked trout. Spruce Run Reservoir, last I heard, is not entirely ice-free, but pike may be attempted near the creek entrances.

Ponds here and there offer some fishing. I think Mercer Lake is open too. Given a very mild day, bass, crappie and pickerel move into shallows and a Rebel Minnow is hard to beat for surface fishing as sunset nears. This plug sits at an angle on the surface, rear submerged. Twitch it just to lift the rear and bass may take it like a trout's sip rise.

  

26 Inches of Ice Lake Hopatcong

This ice season just kept getting colder. Until today. With temperatures in the 50's and more forecast, Laurie's sent out the message that it's all but over; soon ice will melt away from shore. One more weekend, she thinks. Ice will likely remain on the lake into early April, but getting to it and fishing on it safely will become impossible sometime fairly soon.

Oliver and I fished on seven inches January 17th. Even with a lot of snow and water on the ice for insulation, it managed to thicken to about 26 inches. I took my son and his friend Will yesterday, really hoping Will would get his first pickerel and good sized. Fishing Henderson Bay, the area we tried Joe Landolfi and I ice fished in 2001, catching a 25 and 22-inch pickerel. Not a flag popped yesterday, but five hours really wrung out all the day to day garbage, the sort of stuff you don't scatter around like trash, but let sun, breeze, calm dusk and time's persistent presence dissolve like vapor. We came back to things empowered by the big world out there; we took it all in and became stronger than the trifling demands that hide in corners behind walls.

Will Olsen sinks it. Photo originally featured in The Fisherman.