Where the Small Bass, I Wonder

This skinny bass with a bad eye but a big mouth struck on my first cast. With wind, it was chilly, 54 degrees, although temperature warmed to 69 in the afternoon. If enough cloud cover justified using a black spinnerbait, enough sunlight struck water to prompt switching to a white-headed spinnerbait with a green and yellow soft plastic frog for a trailer and large Colorado blade. This lure tracked very slowly with the wind action, too slow, although it didn't take long to feel a jab and miss the short hit, yet two seconds later get slammed. I had the bass on, maybe a three-pounder, but lost it after a couple of throbbing seconds.

This pond makes me wonder what all the small bass inhabit. I've caught one nine-incher, a 13 1/2, a 14 and some, and all the rest have been two pounds to more than three-and-a-half. Doesn't it make sense that the number of smaller bass would exceed the larger? Lake Musconetcong is similar. Most of the bass have been 15 and 16 inches, if most of them get wiped out with the chemical eradication of weed habitat until the water chestnut problem is solved. If it is ever is solved. The pickerel averaged 20 inches and now prove all but absent.

We fished the lake for years and caught dozens of three-pound-plus pickerel about 23 inches long, thick bodied fish, and yet not one more than three-and-a-half pounds. No bass more than that weight, either, although I've heard of a number of seven-pounders caught in the thickest of summer vegetation. I hope I get a really big bass in this pond, meaning more than five pounds, but I think Round Valley Reservoir, where I landed one that big in May, is the likelier place for fish like this, even though average size there is a little under a foot long.

Guess these afterthoughts foreshadow the end of bass fishing this year, but I may get out a couple or a few more times this fall.

Round Valley Reservoir Trout: Looking Forward to a Long, Cold Season

Had to choose between coming to Round Valley and trout fishing, or visiting Ken Lockwood Gorge and photographing river scenes. Since rain fell fairly hard, I figured I better not miss out on the chance at catching a trout. Besides, the South Branch ran a little high, not very, and my photo opportunities might have been affected in the negative somewhat, and besides water perhaps running too high in relation to a boulder or two in the foreground, leaves have not yet reached peak color anyhow.

I stopped at Behr's Bait and Tackle in Lebanon and bought mealworms. Mr. Behr reported a four-pound and a six-pound rainbow weighed in from the reservoir at his shop this morning. He said plenty are being caught from shore, and this is the typical scenario this time of year, although when you occupy a spot and other anglers fish nearby, you don't usually see a lot of trout being caught as if it were Opening Day or a stocking day on a stream. You may see one or two, or a few, caught, and they average about 16 inches.

During the really hardcore season of December, January, February, and early March, you witness very few caught, although there are regulars who brave the cold and certainly catch some. They just may have to wait a total of 12 hours or more between fish, but there are guys who fish five, six hours a day, a couple or more times a week.

Round Valley is like deep wilderness in winter with few anglers and birders present. I often come and no one is there at all. That's nearly how it was today. I saw no one fishing in the Lot 2 area, but I did see a few cars drive into the lot above, and a Park Ranger drove by.

I've been blogging about this fishing for several years and nothing changes. No increase in visitors results, and it's really not so much my aim to draw others in, but tell a story that you, the reader, may appreciate. Particular points I make may have universal value, so it's more than a fishing report about the reservoir. And if you want to try for these unlikely trout, most of the anglers I've encountered have no qualm about seeing another or others. In fact, at this time of year, especially deep in winter, greetings and conversation are the norm, unlike spring and summer when you're just another person among many, everyone indifferent to one another, except we secret human beings who notice people because life is very much about being social. Leave the anti-social types to their delusions and avoid them, but that's not really how most people are, although people in a crowd are in fact less likely to approach each other, and Round Valley Recreation Area really does fill up when the weather warms.

Not a hit today. The usual, expected result of a sincere attempt.

It's October 23rd and leaves still haven't reached peak color. A mild summer, warm fall. What will winter be?

Bass Hitting Spinnerbaits Under Windy Surface

This place seems to never want to let me down. It's not that I approached the pond feeling I would get skunked. Wind blew like a Halloween banshee out of the north, cold at 56 degrees and never milder all day, certainly very invigorating with the light rain jacket, but I really didn't feel nothing would happen, although I felt a skunker possible with so little day left.

Which way to go? I stood at pond's edge and chose between my right or left: back to the fallen tree again and relative shallows, or down where the wind blew against the bank. No, today didn't seem a day for sun-warmed shallows, obviously not. I sort of went with the assumption that wind carries baitfish and stacks it against the bank the wind pushes water against, not that I actually thought bluegills were getting pushed, but I did spot some baitfish in very thin water I took for killies.

Baitfish or not, bass get active in the fall under wind-churned surface any time of day, at least in my experience. I find that in the spring and summer, windy late mornings and afternoons tend not to produce. This nice bass well over two pounds slammed that black spinnerbait and immediately leapt. Not much later, I fought an even larger bass, lost it. Both were 10 to 15 feet out from the shore edge, only a couple of feet to about four feet deep. I did wonder if the first bass that struck about 10 feet out followed the spinnerbait or lurched from deeper water aside from the pulsing blade. Certainly the powerful vibration the Colorado blade produces is sensed from a distance. In any case, that bass overtook the lure very swiftly.

I may get out for bass one or two more times this fall.

Pursuing John Insley Blair's Spirit: Blairstown, Hope, and White Township, New Jersey

Today my wife, Patricia, and I followed the Blair Trail as written about very thorougly in New Jersey Skylands Visitor magazine, beginning in Blairstown, following through Hope, passing the White Township Museum on CR 519, ending up near Belvidere, and back tracking to find the museum only open on the second Sundays of each month, among other hours, I think. John Insley Blair, 1802-1899, began his career in boyhood trapping muskrats and selling pelts. At 11, he was a store clerk, and he rose through many mercantile endeavors, achieving wealth and becoming a great NJ railroad magnate, pivotal for the nation's 19th century industrialization. Blairstown originally existed in 1760 as Smith's Mill, named after the hamlet's central feature, a grist mill just downstream of what is now the dam of Blair Lake. When J. I. Blair arrived in his late teens, it was called Butt's Bridge, with four homes and the mill; soon the name changed to Gravel Hill. To make a very long and amazing story short, the town became a thriving trading center largely through Blair's influence, and was named after him 175 years ago in 1889.

Blair Lake is private, by the way, and although you can enjoy the walkway, you have to turn back and not enter the area of private residences. I imagine some bass exist in the rather shallow water of good quality, and thought I sighted a very small largemouth in the creek. I was motivated not to fish today, but familiarize myself more with someone who made an enormous productive and financial achievement, influencing America's history more directly than he is famous for. We've often been to Blairstown. I once had the privilege of spending time in a campus auditorium at Blair Academy for a poetry festival. And we enjoy Mohican Outdoor Center and the Paulinskill River. We've eaten many meals at the Blairstown Inn, and often go to Dale Market. But today was different. The purpose was about as singular as the rails of J. I. Blair railroads were straight steel: get a little first hand familiarity with the spirit Blair left behind, just a little, but enough to feel better connected than reading can do, so long as a fair amount has been read in preparation, and we both read the magazine article with Highlands history in our background. Patricia once complained that it was a Sunday and the farmers market wasn't opened, but I appreciated Blairstown and Hope as just like ghost towns today and with the weather chilly. It left us all alone with this spirit we pursued.   

 Overlooks entrance to Blair Academy, grave yard to the right.

 There is a monument which resembles the Washington Memorial in miniature overlooking John Insley Blair's simple gravestone. The simple stone is symbolic of the simple, frugal life he led, always on target with his projects and not extravagant besides.

 After I paid my respects to John Blair, I photographed Patricia leaving the graveyard. The gate is almost immediately beyond the Blair Memorial.

 First Presbyterian Church (1840) and Dr. John C. Johnson House

 Blair Lake

 Blairstown

 Arches with Waterworks to the right, insdie.

 First Hope Bank, Hope NJ

 Hope NJ

John Blair worked as a clerk in this building in 1813. He was 11. Hope, NJ.


For a more in-depth story, "The Blair Trail," access NJ Skylands Visitor by this link to the article: http://www.njskylands.com/tour-blair-trail


October Bass Action on Spinnerbaits

Quite a different scene than July when I caught all those nice bass, and, as expected, the water has cleared, algae bloom dying off, although the water still has a pronounced green tint. Didn't have much time, but I managed to catch this little bass of less than 14 inches on a spinnerbait. This time of year I ignore the plastic worms I love to fish on hot summer days, not that bass would necessarily ignore the worms, but that in my experience, they're more willing to smack a spinnerbait. You can cover a lot more water quicker with a spinnerbait. I just fan cast shallows when this bass whacked it.

I came confronted with a fundamental choice as I made my way: would I traverse some difficult rocks and go all the way into the back of the pond, near a downed tree in shallows, or would I go fish along the easily walked banks in the deeper front? My more brainy feeling involved the notion of catching something where walking is easy. But my gut told me to go cast near that tree, and that's where I caught the bass.

I can just imagine what action would have been like in yesterday afternoon's rain. Every fall we seem to get at least one rainy day with temperatures in the 70's. Since water temperature is actually warming slightly during such a storm, the bass have all the more impetus to actively rise--no overstatement--and I've had some incredible action on spinnerbaits.

When I was 16, I fished through close lightening under a tornado watch. Some of the dozens of bass I caught actually leapt two feet in the air to come down on top of my buzzed spinnerbait and get hooked! Truly once-in-a-lifetime. I would never do the likes again--I always avoid lightening--and wouldn't actually suggest anyone else do it either. Graphite rods are like lightning rods, and you would be the ground. Leave it to one manic teenager who survived to tell a story. My wife always says God protects fools and idiots--so don't count on it! Many other warm weather storms during the fall without lightning have been excellent fishing, and all you need for these is good waterproofing.

We have less than a month's time before the bass fishery all but shuts down. I used to love to brave cold late fall, even winter, weather, dousing live-lined shiners in a pond's deepest water. I caught bass this way and on jigs as well, but haven't done the likes in years. On one strange late November afternoon, mild, but not warm, I caught bass right up against browned reeds on a buzzbait. Go figure.

Low Rivers, Round Valley Reservoir, getting some Rain

Didn't fish today, but scouted the Neshanic River (soft-clarity photo, above), South Branch Raritan, and Round Valley Reservoir, all at very low levels. Two inches of rain is predicted for tonight, and this will raise stream levels. I've never seen Round Valley Reservoir so low, but I'm sure some trout are being caught along its desert-like shorelines.

Lots of people are hoping for rain, but lets hope we don't get too much during the summers ahead. I read that meteorologists are expecting much wetter summers for New Jersey. My first concern in this respect is my summer smallmouth bass fishing. I like a stream low and clear. Smallmouths aggressive fish: a long cast reaches them unawares tending to result in furious charges from distances that surprise people uninitiated to this fishing. On the other hand, when small rivers run higher than normal and slightly stained, I have a hard time catching bass. 

That storm pipe is carrying more water now than when I photographed it this afternoon.

Steelhead Sight Responses: Noodle Rod Fishing

Midwest Outdoors published a similar photo to this one, but the position of the hands, the smiles, and the tilt of my head, among other things, such as that the other photo was taken in a larger frame, distinguish the two. Don't mean to step on anyone's toes! This photo actually was published in Fur-Fish-Game about a year ago, but the six month term of rights is passed.

 

 

Noodle Rodding Steelheads with Beads and Spawn Sacs

By Bruce Edward Litton

 

          Steelhead beads and spawn netting come in multitudes of color hues for good reason. Highly visual and selective, steelheads can choose color preferences that change with the hour. According to scientific research, their eyes sense infrared and ultraviolet light, although ultraviolet is visible only at the water’s surface, which leads anglers to suspect that smolts use it to distinguish floating insects. While ultraviolet light will not be a concern for pursuit of grown steelheads, and we can’t judge the infrared hues they see, the steelhead’s ability to perceive in these two spectrums is an indication of the extreme sensitivity we deal with. We have plenty of concern by experimenting with colors we can see.

          Absorption and reflection of light determines color, so available light and stream conditions can be judged as a starting point in selecting what color bead or netting to use. Depth absorption of light is not quite the only factor. The color a steelhead sees 20 feet away will very likely shift as the object gets closer to the fish, but lateral light absorption is not a major concern because steelheads tend to move little more than a couple of yards to strike a bead or spawn sac. Nevertheless, it’s worth knowing about because in water clear enough, a steelhead may see a bead coming 20 feet away. It’s wise to place casts well ahead of target for a stealthy approach.

          Sometimes steelheads on a particular river will strike one color all season, while steelheads on another stream nearby will strike another, or shift preference by the hour, day, or week. Ultimately, color preferences are a mystery we don’t know about. But we can begin our approach to the unknown by contrasting color with background. For example, if the water is clear, yet slightly tannic brown and weather is sunny, a bead painted over with iridescent nail polish (can’t find these commercially), or white, orange, apricot, peach, red, or bright fluorescent chartreuse stand out against the brownish background and may work. A fluorescent color may stand out too much and spook steelheads. In any case, you should be prepared to experiment. Whether or not steelhead will continue to hit a color drawing consistent strikes through the day is up to more than we may judge. If you’re not getting strikes, weather conditions or the spot you’re fishing may not be the problem; it may be because you haven’t tried the right color, so long as your presentation is otherwise in order.

          I got interested in color after I had fished for hours a run of the Salmon River in New York known to produce. I was using a nail polish colored bead I had previous success with, but failing to experiment with others. Laziness can feel all too comfortable. At the time I knew comparatively little about steelheads’ selectivity, but certainly enough about it to act. Another guy walked up, waded in, and caught two steelheads in 15 minutes’ time.

          So invest in many colors; fill the pockets of your vest. Standard sized beads are 10mm in diameter, some a little smaller, some as large as 14mm. Most are hard plastic with a line passage through the center. The soft plastic beads you can pin on a hook are marginally popular for salmon. I’ve never used them for steelhead because I fear the hook looks too unnatural and won’t hook up as effectively. And although the salmon eggs that steelheads feed on are singular in color, color contrast on individual beads may make a difference. So you can doctor beads with nail polish and/or model paint. With spawn sacs, contrasting netting with eggs is worth trying, as is placing a small bead inside a spawn sac to produce an “eye” effect. We don’t really know why it works, but results are that it does.

          Float rigs by use of noodle rods are effective for placing the bead or spawn sac at steelheads’ eye level. Noodle rods are 10 to 15 foot, light power spinning rods with super-slow action to absorb the thrusts of 10 to 20 pound steelheads. Six pound test monofilament line on the reel spool is standard. Much more than this would easily result in a broken rod if the leader were also heavier test. The famous C formation is achieved by holding the reel upward, the rod in a total bend with butt forward directly under the tip high above, the rod taking shock in that absorbing bend to protect a five pound test leader. Fighting a large steelhead is an arduous exercise—the fish may depart on more than a dozen runs—but with careful determination and practice, you will catch most hooked. When netting a steelhead, let it run if it wants to go. Don’t force the issue. Awkward netting of fish results in some losses after long battles. Lower the net lip to bottom and let the steelhead in.

          Steelhead floats come in many brands. Those that are mostly clear bodied may be less obtrusive, but a color top allows you to notice when it suddenly goes under. Use those that allow you to pass line through soft plastic sleeves at top and bottom, so you can adjust the position of the float on the line. A series of split shots, heaviest near the float to anchor it (medium sized split shot), and a few BB sized near a micro swivel, create a J pattern as the rig moves downstream with current. The heavier split shot up the line lag behind, while the end of the J curve presents the bead out in front.

           Beneath the last BB split shot, the micro swivel is tied to six pound test monofilament and five pound test fluorocarbon fly leader. Fluorocarbon sinks and that’s perfectly fine for fishing a bead along bottom. The knot is simple. Pass the leader through the bead; loop back and pass it through again. Pass the tag end through the loop created, and turn it six times as if you were tying a clinch knot. Tighten into the bead and it will stay in place. You will tie the hook with the tag end so you have two and a half inches between bead and hook. This way, the steelhead takes the egg and it slips free when the hook is set; the hook usually meets the corner of the mouth for a clean release later. Tying off the bead to hold it in place is critical. Using a toothpick inevitably results in slippage on the line.

          A size 8 to 12 wide gap, heavy steel egg (bead) hook is needed. These are not the same as gold salmon egg hooks and more than several brands produce the like. They are clinch knot tied with the tag end of the bead knot.

          A note on split shot. Lead has become unpopular as environmentally friendly alternatives are on the rise. Don’t use shiny tin split shot. They spook steelheads, especially on sunny days. Use a tin/bismuth combination even duller in appearance than lead.    

          Typically the fishing is in water three or four feet deep, especially through current breaks where salmon eggs have funneled and fallen into a pocket. Steelheads clean up some of the mess salmon make. This is the whole point of using beads, even though many colors do not resemble salmon eggs. Imagine a green salmon egg. It would be like something out of Dr. Seuss, but green is a color steelheads will respond to on occasion. Green eggs and slam!

          Cast well ahead of your target zone and hold the rod high to keep a fairly tight line off the water and on the float, not so tight that it affects drift. Trout fishing of all kinds in streams is about drift. More often than not, a little experimentation is required in setting the float and shifting the split shot to get that J presentation coming right at the eye-zone, bead first. This can be more daunting than it is for me to relate it to you in words. But if you are new to steelhead fishing, you have to begin somewhere. And the surest indication that the float is set too high is that it gets hung on bottom or drags at less than current speed.

          A float riding right along can be deceiving. If your bead is riding two or three feet off bottom with steelheads six or seven feet deep, as on occasion there are, none are likely to rise for it. And if you’ve got the float set right, remember that steelheads have 300 degree vision. If water is clear, you can bet they see the color indicator on the float. It’s a good idea to contrast bead and float color, since color against background arouses interest in the fish. A float isn’t much of a background, but the color is very distinct and steelheads see it. So buying more than one color float is a good idea.

          Most of the time, a float set a little more than three feet above the hook is right. With the J effect, the bead is presented close to three feet under the surface. When the float dips under, rear back on the rod immediately. When I first began steelheading, I found it very counterintuitive that most of the fish are in about three feet of water, sometimes two feet. The size of these fish made me feel they would naturally gravitate to holes. If brown trout share the river you fish, you will more likely find them deep and dark. After all, browns are nocturnal. Rainbows leap for the sun; browns dig for bottom. There’s more poetry in the previous sentence than truth, but nevertheless, the two are very different species and browns clearly seem to be more nocturnal. Steelheads like shallows even in the middle of winter to warm their backs the slightest degree on sunny afternoons.

          Nevertheless, the best weather conditions are nasty. Snow in November is a real good sign. Get out and fish in it. Drift boats with three inch drafts float all day on the Salmon River in January, equipped with propane heaters. And if snow is piling up on the banks, it’s usually for the better. If water is clear, remember the list of colors I outlined. If it’s somewhat stained with visibility reduced to a foot and a half, try bright colors like red or fluorescent chartreuse first.

          Particularly while wading a river, persistence is worth a lot more than routine on the job left behind for the outing. True enough, if you finish a drift boat trip, you may feel the duration of it all the way down, and it feels real good. But your guide knows the river like the steelheads do by plying it for years. This advantage is worth money spent, a smart way to get started. But if you beat back the bushes against waders and roll the rocks under wading shoes, remember that experimenting with colors and adjusting the float to get it about right is possibly more important than finding spots with fish in them. Typically, moderate runs of current about three or four feet deep will hold some steelheads.

          You can experiment with both beads and spawn sacks noodle rodding, not so much that you get frantic, but enough that you feel your own effort sort of like coffee water simmering. It’s the sort of involvement that never gets bored and tends to eventually hit it right—score—and allows you to leave happy. Spawn sacks are presented by float or by simply using enough split shot to feel the occasional tick of the stream bottom, but the hook penetrates the sack and rather than size 8 to 12, a size 4 outset hook is appropriate. The first several casts with a spawn sack may be the most valuable because the release of oil and fluid from hook penetration flows along with the sack, dispersing. Sight is not the only sense steelhead have. By analogy, I think of another sight feeder, the bluefish, which have a highly developed sense of smell, although more of smell and far less discrimination by sight. No fish seems to compare to the steelhead for sight. There’s no end to appreciations of the steelhead’s sight abilities because their preferences change in truly uncanny ways. Unless you become an expert at matching color for response, you may feel the suspense of uncertainty more than assurance, except by keeping yourself busy experimenting or catching fish. You don’t want mere fish sense to beat your reasoning mind.

          Don’t forget to layer clothing sufficiently and carry some ultraviolet light wader repair fluid, which hardens by sunlight exposure even on cloudy or rainy days. Most drift boat trips include wading. Vermiculite hand and toe warmers are a must. And a pair of wading cleats can save you from more than wet clothes and pneumonia as a result. On the Salmon River I fish, it’s understood by everyone that cleats are a necessity.

          Steelhead fishing is for hardy anglers who find an attraction not only in the beauty, size, and subtlety of these fish, but the chilly weather conditions and stark environments confronted while going after them. I know people who have drift boat fished at three degrees in the afternoon, taking every advantage of the propane heater, but catching steelheads nevertheless. To be fully functional when weather and environment oppose you—active with a will to succeed, steady as river flow—is something relatively few pursuits offer anyone, and those who experience never forget.