Tried a Senko in the Rain

Slipped a big trash bag over my camera bag and hauled it and my rod over to the neighborhood pond in pouring rain. Found the stream leading in by way of storm pipe pumping mud into water still otherwise clear enough to serve my Senko, this fishing an approach differing from the standard spinnerbait. Just had a hankering to try it after doing well on Senkos last spring.

Especially fished edges between muddy and clearer water, nothing. That pond hasn't been itself in about five years now. It's the first I've fished it since early last year, and like last year, there seem very few bass present, when it used to be easy to catch 10 averaging two pounds in a half hour. A big fish kill due to thick ice hasn't healed. The pond is mostly about two or three feet deep, four at most.

Big snapping turtle stuck its snoot above surface. A hulking beast like that has to eat, so there are fish here...and possibly getting targeted plenty, not that I know how a turtle can grab a living bass. I believe more than one with a shell more than two feet wide exists. I don't bring Sadie here, because I see turtles too often.

I never see cormorants. Only geese and very few pied-billed grebes on the water. Along the edges, I often see a great blue heron.

North Branch Raritan River Early

Phoned Mike Maxwell last night about fishing this morning; he didn't pick up, and before he phoned back, I had already taken my sleeping pills, so I told him I was going around 6:00 a.m. He told me he might go mid-morning, when he gets a break from work.

Some guy was there fishing Power Bait with a big rod when I arrived, having caught two. I went on down to my most dependable hole and got not a hit, figuring not many got stocked yesterday. I went back upstream and caught one where a fairly deep current slackens. Getting no more hits, I went further up, just below the exit bridge where in the past I've caught many, getting no hits there. But under the exit ramp in the shallows I caught four.

Salmon eggs, as I usually fish. All of my trout I released today. 

I didn't feel my usual verve. Had to make myself get up, carry my camera bag with my right arm still giving me some trouble, and walk down under the entry ramp to the fast water below. I felt sure some trout would be there, and though it took awhile before I got my first hit and landed the trout--the water pretty high and the current tricky for drifting eggs--some are there. I caught yet another and missed a strong hit.

Not many hits missed this morning. The guy using Power Bait caught as many as I did. I watched him closely, even though I felt this a nuisance, feeling jealous because I like to think nothing's better for stocked rainbows and brook trout--brookies no longer stocked in Jersey--than microlight method. That's a presumption impossible to proove. Plenty of times I've done better than other guys in the vicinity, but plenty of times others have kept up, too. I like to think I'm not the vain sort. That I'm there on a stream for my own good time and don't care how others do, but though it's true I come to enjoy myself, I do get competitive. 

Better than that, all four of us--two other guys showed up--recognized each other with waves and hellos. It's a lot better to fish a stream with others who put simple good will before doing better than the next guy, and as usual this was evident today, in spite of my edgy mood.

https://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2018/04/north-branch-raritan-river-at-stretch.html

27

Microlight is how I catch most of my trout. Salmon egging. All of us have our preferences. Fred catches plenty on jigs, and today my brother Rick fished Stony Brook, first with jigs and Power Bait in Hopewell Township, then with a fly rod and nymphs in Princeton Township; 24 of the 27 he caught on jigs, one of them just slightly under 18 inches. Four-and-a-half hours fishing.

Interesting that back in the 70's, a lot of us fished salmon eggs, but I don't remember jigs getting used at all. Maybe Fred and Noel can fill me in. I'm pretty sure the rise of the Trout Magnet began in the 80's, but maybe later.

I did use jigs, though, on native brook trout in the 70's. Shad darts. Nine-inchers hit them hard.

I don't mean to imply jigs catch more than eggs. Rick's fished eggs for decades. One day, fishing the Pohatcong Creek with eggs, he caught 175 trout on them. My highest number, I think, is 86, but I would have to confirm this against my handwritten log. That was a long time ago on the Hunterdon streams I've posted about.

Spruce Run Creek and Sparse Trout

Took some planning, but Oliver Shapiro and I managed to get out and fish trout this afternoon and evening. He left it up to me, whether we would fish Spruce Run Creek or Lopatcong Creek. I did get online and figure out where some Lopatcong access is available, but chose Spruce Run, because I decided I want to approach the other stream with a fly rod in the fall. I've never fished there, though Mike Maxwell and I caught many trout here in Glen Gardner on salmon eggs.

Today I did manage to fish spots new to me. By walking up and downstream of stocking points, I found some interesting holding water, but no really deep holes. Oliver hiked and waded far, too. Now we've each seen parts of this stream the other hasn't. Despite recent rain, the water was very clear, and lower than when Mike and I fished here two years ago. Stocked on Monday, about a week ago, we found very few trout. I managed to catch two and miss a handful of hits. Oliver got one hit.

That second trout made me feel especially fulfilled, since I had already come to grips about few for the taking. And I released both. They holdover. Or at least any leftover do. (Quite a few end up in Spruce Run Reservoir.) But it took me an hour or so before I got my first hit, and the first trout I caught relieved me of the skunk on my back. It's one thing to write a book about this marvelous microlight method, and quite another to look forward to your guest reading it before it goes to an agent...while you caught nothing during the outing introducing him to the fishing. A little scary. Both 11-inch trout took off on drag-screaming runs on that one-pound test Suffix I'm using. The only draw back to this line is the difficulty in seeing it while I drift eggs. I chose the clear option. Maybe orange is a wiser choice, but I just don't like the idea of using line the trout might see, and besides, a bright orange line would seem garish to me.

I've noticed over the years that sometimes many more get stocked than other times. Why the stocking crew decides to put more in one stocking day, and not so many another, sometimes seems impossible to tell, since it doesn't always seem to do with water level or dangerous warmth. (Maybe Noel can fill me in.)

Towards sundown, we pulled over at a stocking point downstream and found the only obviously worthwhile hole occupied, deciding not to encroach on the owner of an SUV with PA plates. We hopped on down to another point, or ostensible stocking point, finding nothing but very shallow water, so we decided to give the North Branch in Bedminster a half hour.

Water was high but not off color, just not very clear. Fishable. But little were hitting. Oliver did manage to get a hard smack on a spinner, then another hit on the same downstream. I got two hits in my most dependable hole at the Zoo. One of those hits came at high speed, the trout swimming a full five feet before I completed my attempted hook set, drag on the line in the water making that impossible. This microlight game is largely about the fun of setting hooks. If you get good at drifting eggs, you will get a lot of them, but missing many is unavoidable.

Chilly day. My brother Rick mentioned possibly fishing the Pohatcong, but he had decided the rain and the "cold" weather had changed his mind. I've caught plenty of rainbows on eggs in early April weather much chillier than today, but perhaps a distinct drop in temperature does affect the trout badly. Oliver and I saw no insects hatching. It's not that trout stocked fairly recently are selective about dry flies, but when you do see insects in the air, it's a good sign. Life in general is on the move. Probably on the feed.

https://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2017/04/spruce-run-creek-trout-fishing-and.html

Private Ponds for Largemouths and Crappies

I had the good fortune to take Tom Savko's invitation and fish a couple of ponds with him. Small and shallow, they hold really big bass in spite of appearances. Tom's caught a number of them around seven pounds, his largest seven and a half. Plenty more four and five pounds. He caught a four-pounder today on his second cast with a spinnerbait in close to the bank among lily pads. He got it against the bank, where somehow the line broke: 

Tom tried to catch the hook of his spinnerbait with the tip of his stout rod.

The water badly stained in that first pond we fished, I managed to catch two small bass on a spinnerbait with a chrome Colorado blade, but then tried, by Tom's suggestion, one of his with a brass blade, catching another bass. Tom had caught three or four more small ones. Finally, I tied on a Senko and caught one more from beside pads. All the while I felt the presence of big bass in that muddy water. Tom missed a hit right at the surface from another bass of about four pounds, but unless one of my missed hits was such a fish, I never drew any to my offerings. We fished all the way around the pond.

At the second pond we fished, I said, "Maybe there's a bass by that shadowline," and winged my Senko into sunlit water next to shade. First cast in proximity to a pond corner, but many yards from the bank. I got a pick-up but missed out on setting the hook. Tom tried for crappies with a jig under a bobber, catching a couple of bluegills, while I quickly landed three bass, none of them larger than a pound, and missed another hit. Tom having switched to a spinnerbait, I leapt ahead down along the shoreline to s small point, where nothing hit my Senko, although by casting all the way across the pond to some sticks, I missed a couple of hits.

My right arm is in bad shape. I fear it could be serious. I don't know what it is. A popped tendon, or something. Just playing bass under a pound was a little stressful, and I dread what a five-pound hybrid striper might do to me next month. I love catching those fish. The fight is the best I know. So I feel put off, for sure. Today, my casting ability was affected. And so was getting hooks set. I'm patient with it. I never want to jump the gun and see a doctor too soon. I trust the thing to heal. It gave me trouble for months after I arm wrestled my son, then got better. Whatever it is, it's related. 

Meanwhile, as I fished near that point, Tom drove the large ATV up, cast his spinnerbait alongside that point, and scored a small bass. Soon, we got all the way back at the pond's end, and I missed a hit from a bass that felt pretty good, though I don't believe it was more than a pound and a half, if that. Just not certain.

Done giving the ponds the best we could, we ate lunch at a deli restaurant, talking fishing. He spoke about having fished bass tournaments, so I mentioned that I used to be a member of Mercer County Bassmasters. "So was I," he said. He joined a year or so after I left for college. He's fished local, state, and national tournaments. For one of the nationals, an event on the Hudson, he got paired with Rick Clunn. This astonishes me. Luck of the draw, but who knows, really, what unseen mechanism of fortune might guide chance. It's dangerous to be too optimistic about events in your favor--in case you fail to see threats--but it's not a matter of any of us being at the mercy of the elements, because we know anyone exposed too long to nature doesn't make it; rather, something deep within each of us, and linked to one another, seems to help guide our lives, if we allow it to.

Tom told me he learned a lot from Clunn. "Sheer genius," he said. And he told me Clunn volunteered to let him have the front of the boat for half of the total of the tournament hours. 

Today I got to see a part of Jersey I haven't seen in 40 years, though I used to see these places quite often. Seeing the past right before my physical eyes had a calming effect for a good hour or so, but I'm glad I moved away from that wider area to make a home with my own family. Now that today I've been where I used to be, I remember the early years with my wife-to-be in this region where we've lived for more than 25 years now, and realize by comparison especially with the years of my upbringing how familiar it's become.

https://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2019/01/nice-ice-fishing-on-private-lake.html

Big Brown Trout Wins Knee Deep Derby

Laurie Murphy:

"The Knee Deep Club held their trout and pickerel contest on April 14th 2019. There were over 50 entrants in each contest. Placing first in the pickerel contest was Justin Ameye with a 3 lb 14 oz fish. Second place went to Mike Rastiello, also with a 3 lb 14 oz pickerel and third place went to Freddie Nitek.  Fourth thru sixth place winners each won a gift certificate. They were Justin Hendriksen, Tyler LaMantia and Jim Salerno. Their fished weighed in at 3 lb 4 oz and 3 lb 3 oz. The trout winners included Jack Dziduch with a 9 lb 6 oz Brown trout, Tyler LaMantia with a 3 lb 15 oz and Frank Schweiger with a 13 oz fish. Hunter Good, John Moran and Gary Bruzaud each won a gift certificate. The next contest, to be held on Sunday May 5th, 2019, will be the Panfish Challenge. You can call the shop at (973)663-3826 for more info, or check out the Knee Deep Club’s website. Some other notable catches the past week or so included John Moran with a 4 lb 2 oz Smallmouth Bass, Jim Welsh with a 1lb 14 oz crappie and Jake Bozik with a Largemouth weighing 5 lb 12 oz.  Bass season is now closed so remember it is catch and release only and the season will reopen again on June 16th. For the month of April, We will be open 7 days a week from 6 AM until 6:30 PM. Hours will change again on May 1st and we will then be open from 5:30 AM until 7 PM. Have a great week!!!"

Musconetcong River, Hakehokake Creek, Lockatong Creek: Salmon Eggs for Trout

Jorge and I first stopped at Raritan River North Branch to check on water clarity Monday morning; the river was almost up to the banks. Today, fishable. So, as planned, we rode on to Saxton Falls. My first time ever seeing the spot besides in numerous photos--the place is New Jersey's Opening Day symbol. I felt surprised at how close it is to Tilcon Lake. Jorge had never before visited the area but had Saxton Falls on his wish list.

It fished slow. We missed a couple of hits, and I caught a 10-incher on a salmon egg using my newly made microlight rod and the one-pound test Suffix I mentioned two posts ago. Jorge used the microlight I bought at former Ray's Sporting Goods in North Plainfield in 2000. No use hanging around when maybe somewhere else would yield more fish, so we tried a spot in Hackettstown, not even getting a tap, and then rode 10 miles or so south to Changewater. I once caught a rainbow there in July on one of my fly rods using a wet fly of some sort. The hole is deep with strong current and good seams. I missed a hit, and then a big one got hooked, drag screaming as it got in strong current, one-pound test breaking. I had tested the drag on the little reel and knew it wasn't very good, but I thought maybe acceptable. Line raced off the spool; I doubt the slight unevenness of drag tension resulted in the break. Besides, that fish was headed deep south. The current runs heavily on downstream as far as you can see. No stopping that trout.

Jorge got some taps. We both felt trout nibbling uncertainly, but I managed to catch and release a couple about 10 inches long and have Jorge net a nice one at just slightly under 16 inches. I had made a point to myself about releasing trout here, because survivors holdover, but the big one my wife would appreciate. It had taken awhile to get the fish to the net. And thumbing a spool to help control drag when line test is that light--that's tricky. I had never done it before with line that light.

Taking lunch felt relaxing. Sunlight felt warm. Traffic didn't bother us much. I felt especially good because of the big one I had just caught. Salmon egg drifting can seem simple when you've done it for years, but you'd be a fool to forget that all sorts of factors are involved in choosing casts that hit the target space easily only because of prior learning.

The spot fished slow after we clambered back down the bank. I quit after 10 minutes, gathered my camera bag, and began working my way up. I slipped on loose stones, thinking quickly to drop my rod as I fell, saving it from breaking on a sharp boulder edge. The same instantaneous calculation made sure none of my weight fell on that bag with about half a year's worth of wages invested in it. A big rock rolled down from under my left boot, and I turned to make sure it wouldn't strike Jorge's rod. 

Almost 60, I'm still quick. No injury. But I'm not nearly as steady on my feet as during my teens when I danced on rocks.

Experienced for years in the Hunterdon Hills rising over the Delaware River, I knew we had a chance at finding more trout than we might by fishing more Musconetcong spots. The long ride occasioned lots of stories from me about my son's former passion at finding and photographing reptiles. Amphibians, too. New Jersey offers all sorts of wild opportunities, and even as we traveled, Jorge marveled at rural countryside he had never before seen. Hakehokake Creek--as I feared--had no trout in it. We walked and waded, fishing as we progressed perhaps about two hundred yards. The state really shouldn't ignore little streams like this. They provide for classic microlight fishing. 

Compared to a river like the one we had just abandoned, a little stream like the Hakehokake, comprising many tributaries adding up to two main stems about 15 feet wide, a stream like this is made up of mostly shallow holding water, trout often visible to cast to or else hidden under rocks or ledges, materializing suddenly to take an egg knocking along near bottom while carried by current. The little rod is perfect. You don't need to stay in a spot for long--if a trout is there, it will most likely respond to the egg. The pace quickens expectation, and it can be a lot of fun. 

I waded one of the two stems of the stream for nearly a half mile back in 1978, catching 33 rainbows while fishing microlight with eggs as I always did unless fishing brown trout, and the likes are some of the most exciting fishing I've known. There's an intimate quietness about it. Compared to fishing beyond the reef off Big Pine Key in Florida, to cite a wide-open experience, it's close-quartered but challenging in its own right.

I know Hakehokake has wild browns--somewhere--but they're not for salmon eggs anyhow, even though Jorge did catch one two years ago on an egg in Peapack Brook. Water clear in Milford today, I knew some rainbows would be visible, if any there, and if only a very few existed hidden under crevices and so forth, most likely one or two of them would have sprung for an egg. 

We moved on, following CR 519 a long way to Lockatong Creek in Kingwood Township. In recent years, amply stocked.

Water muddied there, I told Jorge about my son and I fishing off-color water there once before, successfully. So I got some fire-red eggs from my trunk. I Missed a hit almost immediately, and not too long thereafter, caught one in a shallow riffle. Then I determined where a pod of trout lay under the 519 bridge. I caught a couple and when hits stopped coming, moved downstream. That's where the unavoidable--often--missed-hit syndrome developed. When I returned to Jorge under the bridge, I had two more rainbows, having missed seven hits, having also lost one during the fight, and having suffered a break-off from another. On the whole, though, one-pound test performed excellently. We fished under the bridge a while longer, missed some hits, and caught two more trout.

Some of the best of this outing involved long travel time and talk. I'm especially happy Jorge has plans to take his three boys to Lake Hopatcong again this summer. I'm also impressed with his wish list, and brought up some recommendations of my own, including Swartswood State Park salamanders. Finding them may not be something done as an adult outing, but kids feel amazed, and just as important, you do too.

We traveled 119 miles.

Hakehokake Creek

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