Drop Shotting for Bass at Round Valley

Invited Mike Vandenberg along to try drop-shotting for bass from shore at Round Valley Reservoir. Upon arrival, I felt we might do best fishing to the right, further back in Ranger Cove. Stuff gets washed in there by the prevailing winds, and whether this is the reason, it's more fertile and weedy. But this was Mike's first time at the reservoir, and I wanted to make sure he got a wide view of its extent, so I led us around and to the left, along the rocky shores in the direction of the main launch, but distant from it. Besides, these rocky shores seemed more promising for smallmouth bass.

We used 1/4- and 1/2-ounce sinkers, setting three- and four-inch plastic worms anywhere from a foot to 2 1/2 feet from the sinker. Along this rocky shoreline I mention, we never got a hit, but we began to forget about the daily grind as we let the wide arena of surrounding open space pull us back to reality. We both work long hours and feel they're too long. For a moment, I felt soothed by the quiet sound of  water lapping against the rocks. It's way too easy to discount the likes as worthless trivia not worth reception, but then we might forget that every piece of existence partakes of its ultimate value.

I saw a ranger coming up the trail. Told Mike to make his fishing license conspicuous. The ranger said, "Keep your dog on leash."

"She is on leash," I said.

"Keep it in hand," he said, "So she doesn't run around."

Sadie's an old Lab who just sits beside us.

But the ranger also spoke of back in Ranger Cove as the best area to fish, which reminded me of my earlier feeling. Someone had caught a 15-inch largemouth, he said. We decided we would give it a try, after we tried further along our course where maybe a sharper drop existed, though what we found was shallower water.

I liked the way the water looked. We had got in my car and ridden further back in Lot 2, where I parked above a fairly steep embankment. I told Mike about the five-pound rainbow trout I once caught in December down below from where we presently got out to gather our gear. Here the water had a green tone, rather than the cold-looking rocky feel of where we had fished. It's not as if only largmouths would be present. My son once caught a smallmouth further back in the cove relative to where we were about to stand.

My first cast resulted in the little largemouth photographed. I also caught three rock bass and missed a couple of hits by winging the 1/2-ounce weight out as far as possible and placing each cast differently.

Mike is learning how to cast with a spinning rod, and he made marked improvement today. If I remember correctly, his ice fishing Lake Hopatcong with my son and I at near zero degrees a couple of years ago was the first fishing he's ever done.

Today, it was nice out there. If I can share the following thought, I'm reminded of something my academic advisor at Hampshire College told me a 1986 letter to me, while I took time off. I had let on that all my life, I've sought grand vision. He told me there's plenty to be said for the mundane, and I believe that if I didn't understand exactly what he meant, his words nevertheless cast meaning on the mundane that hadn't existed for me before. Or rather, as a recognition of the value. Daily reality is grand. Ground down by work duties, perhaps not, but just go cast a lure and take it slow.

You'll awaken to what you're missing out on.

Furthest we went along the rocky shoreline.

https://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2017/03/round-valley-reservoirs-eels.html

Bald Eagles

Cool press release I got from Fish & Wildlife. Bald eagles are as free as the air we breathe, and they better be, if we are. But it's fascinating to take interest in our interactions with the recovering population. It doesn't make them any less wild. But it does mean we're part of the picture ourselves, and I would say, ultimately as wild as they are.

https://content.govdelivery.com/attachments/NJDEP/2019/08/01/file_attachments/1258650/eagle_program08-19.pdf 

Trolling for Pickerel

 Oliver's biggest bass--from anywhere--yet.

The thunderstorm came. During one of my breaks at work, Oliver & I texted about the river level coming up. Later last night, it was coming down as fast as it went up, but how could we tell if the water color would be good this morning? 

So, Plan B. Tilcon Lake. Oliver suggested saltwater before we decided for certain, but I hate going all the way over there, only to infer that no fish are in the surf. I guess some kingfish would be around--I guess--but I didn't feel them worth the drive.

We met at Brian's about 4:45, loaded the squareback. We were on the water at 6:00 sharp. Fog enclosed us. I soon caught a small bass on a Dalton Special up top. It was another very slow morning bite like last year with my son. I switched to a worm, lost a nice bass, caught another small one. Oliver teased sunfish with flies and a popper, hoping a bass would take. My worm rigged with an inset hook, I riled up a pickerel from a foot of water on top of an island among weeds. It took the hook deeply, having savaged that worm, but I released it in good shape. 

All told, I caught two more small bass on the worm. I very much enjoy worming, as if you don't know. A lake threatens to overwhelm me as too much water to cover by fishing that slowly, but by selecting every cast, it's a meditation and a sport. A sport because getting casts exactly right as I foresee them does tend to yield results. 

Oliver wormed too. And caught his biggest bass yet, about 19 inches.

But today's fast action came by trolling. The only plug that worked was the larger of two chrome-finished Storm Hot-N-Tot's. It dives about 15 feet. The shallower running version didn't draw any strikes, and we missed some on the bigger plug. I tried to get Oliver to take that plug away from me, as I hooked pickerel after pickerel, catching four, the largest 23 inches, losing another boatside, missing a couple of jolting strikes. Finally, he conceded. He caught one about 20 inches.

The biggest was the first caught, and my first thought, "Maybe trolling is the key to finding the big ones," played out. Another of mine was 21 inches, another 20 inches, and the other about average, 18 inches. Until today, all the pickerel we've caught here have been 17 inches, 18 at most.

We moved over bottom as deep as 30 feet and got whacked. I can't tell how deep vegetation goes, but the water is clear, and only 15 feet down or so, that chrome finish on the plug surely reflected sunlight. 

 The wooden Dalton Special was my favorite topwater plug. Then the Torpedo. Now the Pop-R. But I felt a desire to try the old Dalton this morning.

Oliver got some interest with his flies and bugs. 

 Wild Man with his biggest Tilcon pickerel yet.

https://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2018/07/a-few-smallmouth-bass-unusual-catch.html

South Branch Raritan Flemington

Drove to the South Branch at Flemington to check and see if the flow is muddy. It's not. And so long as thunderstorms later today don't raise the level, Oliver Round and I are floating the river further north tomorrow. Water often gets released from Spruce Run Reservoir, raising the river level and muddying the water just enough to make fishing unproductive.

I brought a bucket with some leftover killies in it. I used some more than a week ago, when trying for fluke in the surf; the water they're surviving in is brine taken straight from the Atlantic. I thought I would have the change the water, but the fish are doing fine.

First cast to this long slow stretch behind a dam resulted in a little largemouth about nine inches long. I caught a longear sunfish, besides. I tried to access the river below the dam, but No Trespassing. Then I drove further above and found a nice hole below a rusted railroad trestle, but couldn't get a hit. I put a split shot on the line, too, after covering the area with a killie weightless.


https://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2017/09/three-bridges-to-higginsville.html

Anti-Report on the Surf

And now for an anti-report. After all, if you read the surf reports you can find about the Jersey Shore, they all seem to promise lots of action.

A few others fished near me on Island Beach yesterday. I saw nothing caught, although someone told me he caught a kingfish so little, he didn't know it was on his hook.

Just as well I didn't waste my money on clam, because he hooked that little fish on a sand flea. Even so, I never collected any to use. I stuck to my killies and cut bunker. Trying for fluke and blues.

A couple of killies came back cut in half. I never knew if by crabs or snapper blues. Probably crabs, since once I felt some weight on my line.


https://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2018/08/some-fish-in-surf.html

Furnace Lake Largemouth Bass

 Caught two this size and four smaller largemouths.

Haven't fished with Fred since January, when we tried for trout at Round Valley. Good to see him again, our late afternoon and evening fishing enjoyed.  

We first approached bass here as Brian and I did the other day--in the shade. After we got the boat in close, my first cast to a bankside pocket a foot deep yielded the bass photographed above. A spot very much like the foot of water that resulted in my 20-incher with Brian.

Then we backed off a little. I kept fishing the Chompers, targeting shaded pockets. I caught three more bass this way, and lost another a lot bigger than the bass photographed. Depth was about five feet, the weeds thick.

After awhile, we moved to the other side of the lake, because no more hits came. The shoreline dropped off steeply, and it didn't take all that long before I felt thoroughly at odds. I suggested we go back to the shallows. By then, the sun was low. "Let's try that corner," Fred said.

"Good idea."

Shallows. Five to eight feet. I quickly caught two on a 3/8th ounce Rebel Pop-R. Great casting range. Like the other evening recently, the bass responded to a slow, subtle retrieve. The first nipped at the plug. Then I barely moved that plug a few times before the bass slurped it. The second took the plug so subtly that it would have been easy not to notice without paying close attention. But both of these bass struck after I got the plug directly against weed edges close to the bank. I made careful choices when I cast each time, to get the plug where I thought it needed to go. Further along the way back to the relative shallows where we began, I caught another on the same plug. Thereafter I began to feel bored, nothing happening, so I switched to the Chompers. 

Beautiful pocket water. Calm surface. Nothing going on. Dusk beginning to settle. 

Fred switched to a spinnerbait. I had my private doubt about its use under calm dusky water, but I vaguely remembered my doubt about my son using a Rat-L-Trap on Tilcon last month, same conditions. I thought, "Well, let him follow his choice. Who knows." Sure enough, he hooked a bass moments later, boated it, and then lost another. Nothing hit my topwater.

So I thought the same about Fred. Sure enough, a moment later he hooked a musky. I saw violent commotion at the surface, "There you go Fred!" And then it was all over. It had cut his line cleanly.

https://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2017/07/aeroflex-lake-bass-and-pickerel.html

Bunch of Big Morris County Bass

The first came from a foot of water near the bank under the shade of trees late in the afternoon. We had paddled directly up the lake, beginning our fishing too far out in six feet of water in the sun. The lake is nine feet at the deepest. Most of it seems around five feet. This first bass hooked itself immediately after the worm splashed down, tearing through thick algae on two solid runs that reminded me of a hybrid striper. Brian had to paddle us closer to the fish as it got stuck in the mess, and when I reached for the lip, I felt the hook fall out against my hand.

It measured 20 inches. Weighed 4.36 pounds.

We missed a couple of hits in close. Brian lost a bass of about three pounds on a Rapala before the fast action would come and go. This fast action lasted no more than 10 minutes. By twitching a Senko near the surface in about four feet of water among milfoil and algae matts, I caught four: about 12 inches, 16 1/2 inches, 17 and some inches, and 19 3/8 inches. The latter fish weighed 3.46 pounds.

After that second nice bass of just under 3 1/2 pounds, I told Brian the bite was probably over. It was. An unusual evening bite perhaps--before sunset.

I gave this post a "Big Bass" title. Though none of them weighed over five pounds, which you might say is true lunker status, for New Jersey, I figure they're big enough to have grabbed your attention. Besides, for most fishermen perhaps, a 20-inch largemouth is "five pounds." (If I used the word "nice," instead of "big" in the title, you might not be reading.)

I wondered if we would get something of a secondary bite. It took a long time. We must have fished an hour and a half before it happened, catching nothing, though Brian had taken some hits. Then, as dusk began to settle, Brian hooked a bass of about three pounds on a topwater. It got in the thick, and once that happens, it's difficult to keep line tight. When a bass has loose line on its end of the algae, it finds it easy to throw the hooks. Which Brian's bass did. 

He missed another fish or two. I can't remember the number. But using a Rebel Pop-R, I caught a 12-incher, an 18 1/2-incher that weighed 3.19 pounds--a chunky bass--and another a little over 16 inches that weighed 2.13. I know most fishermen's 18 1/2-inch chunky bass weighs close to four pounds, but that might be by the old standard of the trusty Deliar, a device that made fishermen liars everywhere, because it's nothing like a certified scale. I tested my electronic Rapala on a five-pound bag of sugar. By supermarket standards monitored by the state, I guess that bag did weigh five pounds.

None of these last three bass got photographed.

The secondary bite was nothing like the furious action of the first, when bass violently disrupted the surface when taking my Senko slightly below that surface. Each of the three I caught later over the course of 20 minutes or so first tapped at the plug, besides the biggest, which fully exposed its upper body when taking a pass at the plug while making no contact with it. The trick in each case was to keep fishing that plug. Very slowly. Each bass slurped it slightly, though each was then easy to hook, and, in fact, the big one slurped that plug down to its gullet, though removing the treble with needlenose pliers was easy.

What a day. Brian asked me if it was my best day of the summer. I told him yes. I could have made this post one of my themed stories that evokes the quality of experience more than the knick-knacks of fishing, but not only did I burn out that talent--doesn't mean I can't conjure it back--I don't have time tonight, and besides, I did so well at catching bass today that I want to emphasize this. 

Brian had raised the issue of tournaments while we fished Wawayanda, and tonight I told him I wished I had taken the advice of Tim Tingo, Mercer County Bassmasters' top tournament placer, and taken out the loan for an outboard to go further into tournament fishing. I set my goal on tournament fishing independently of him, but hearing that advice from the club's best was valuable. I did take trophies from guys mostly at least twice my age, having begun fishing bass tournaments at age 16. I remember rising to mania during those events. Intensely competitive.

You can guess what happened. I got inspired as a writer.

An afternoon and evening like today's makes me feel young and starting out. 

  

 17 inches or so.

 16 and some.

  

Brian's biggest cuts into algae where it threw the hook.


https://littonsfishinglines.blogspot.com/2013/09/four-pound-smallmouth-bass-south-branch.html (Not quite.)