Persistence Pays Off with a Trout

I began fishing at Three Bridges, where I wondered if I'd have time to try Stanton. I fished a black maribou jig and didn't get a hit. Packing my trunk, I realized I had to make a decision. It was 2:15. Round Valley Recreation Area through the main gate would close at 4:00. Either I would drive straight there for a little over an hour of photography, or I could fish Stanton. I decided on Stanton. I had enjoyed myself trying to catch some of the fall stockers, and the last photography session at Round Valley hadn't been very productive...I knew it was a foregone conclusion it wouldn't be today, either. 

That's when I realized I could go to the main launch area and do photography there after 4:00. I hadn't done that in a long while.

So on to Stanton. When I got down by the water, I realized I had conflated Stanton with the deep water at Higginsville. Here at Stanton the water was very shallow under the bridge, upstream a hundred yards, and downstream of it. So after doing the casting to figure all that out, I got on the trail and headed downstream a couple hundred yards or more. 

I realized in the middle of things how fortunate I am to make successful efforts. On the way here, I had passed a gas station advertising $3.09/gallon. The next business down was a station offering $3.19/gallon, which I refused to do. This was Highway 31 in Flemington where traffic was heavy making it impossible to make a U'ey. So I took a right turn off the highway just past the second gas station, winging it, wondering where the road led. I was able to turn right, behind that second station, and emerge back at 31, where I just turned left despite yellow marks in the middle...quickly replaced by left-turn arrows. I made a left into the gas station where I wanted to go. 

Figure it out as you go. Don't tell yourself you won't. Don't find a convenient way out.

I was already feeling the day well done before I hooked the trout. The water there was no more than waist deep. Maybe thigh deep. I netted the fish, photographed it, turned my attention to more. After two or three casts, I hooked up, the trout coming off as it surfaced. A solid hit on the next cast prompted more, and though nothing else happened besides my spotting a trout headed past me at a high rate of speed, I felt fired up and willing to fish hard.

It's a matter of acquiring the stuff of the earth. By exercising the trout quest. Experience processes being, and done well, benevolence enters the world where it was lacking before you released it.

An amazing thing: I got to the Round Valley ramp area when light was on the point I had in mind. On that point just so. Just enough to cover it like the area of a RAW image in Lightroom masked perfectly from the edges and illumined. Minutes later, after I got a photo with light on that point, it was shadowing over.   

Round Valley with the point in the upper right third shadowing over. 

Three Bridges Bass Attempt

 

Black Jig Over White

Never underestimate a black jig. Trout followed it my first two casts, and since the sun was out, I decided to switch out to a white/flashabou jig before I threw another. I took maybe a dozen casts and aroused no interest in that jig whatsoever that I saw. I tied the black jig back on. I did work my way upstream along the stretch, testing new waders for leaks, before I returned to where I began and soon caught the 16-inch rainbow I photographed. Soon thereafter, I cast short to a trout that had followed and taken station in view, lifting the jig off bottom and letting it drop back, catching the first trout I've hooked that way. All of the others have hit as I retrieve the jig at a moderate to quick rate.

I tried another spot in the area, where I caught one last November, and got no interest from any fish I could detect. Then I returned to my car and drove to another area that gets stocked where I've never fished. After finding stretches that seemed too shallow, though I tried them, I walked maybe three football field lengths downstream, where I found at least three feet of fairly swift water. 

I fished the jig carefully and repeatedly, finally hooking another trout of about 14 inches, and when I unhooked it, I understood I had hooked the fish well. I had the two previous, also. A barb doesn't seem to help as often as it might. 

On the Black Jig

New Jersey Trout Fishing

 

Could Have Put the Fish Off

According to the U.S. Geological Survey gauge, the Passaic River level rose only a foot or so where we were going, and when we got there, Oliver Round and I found the current was heavy and the water stained but not muddy. Oliver tried topwater and I fished a jerkbait, before Oliver switched out to a Senko and then buzzbait, and I took the jerkbait off and snapped on a white spinnerbait. 

We hiked way back there, seeing some frogs along the way, listening to insects, probably footing a total of three miles or so round trip. I put casts where I wanted them to go. Very persistently, I fished along the bank where usually there was several feet of water or so, right into and next to any wood I could see in the water, behind other current breaks, shallows created by the river's high level, and even mid-river I found there's a lot of stuff on the bottom that can serve as cover. Oliver hit his targets, too, but neither of us got hit once. 

"You don't think it's because it's fished out?" Oliver asked.

"No. The fish are there."

I had no answer at the time as to why they weren't hitting. Earlier on, I'd pointed out that the water can't be colder than the 50's. We just got through a heat wave with temps in the 80's, and since then, it's still been in the upper 50's afternoons and low 50's at night. But from the perspective of having lain back to take a mental snapshot of that whole situation, it was easy to see the water temp--especially with the heavy rain overnight being on the chilly side--must have taken a sudden dip. It could have put the fish off.

Round Valley Reservoir Eels  

Back at the Jigging

Back at the jigging, I found the river lower and clearer than last week. Seemed to be just as many trout, but not as interested in the jig. A lot of skittish behavior and trout still swimming in aimless directions. I imagine that sort of confusion will end by wintertime. I once saw an 18-inch rainbow holding over from the fall stocking around April 1st, a day or two before the stocking prior to Opening Day, and it held position in the current like any wild or native trout would.

Also, I used a black jig. That's the only trout that struck, pictured above. Like yesterday, sunny today. I had ordered a white VMC maribou jig with flashibou last night, but it hadn't been delivered. If anyone knows of jigs with flashibou tied in for less than $7.50 apiece--which seems very expensive to me (including shipping)--please comment to let me know.  

Productive Trout Jigging

Hit the river for half hour or 45 minutes, casting a black maribou jig, 1/16th ounce, on four-and-a-half foot St. Croix ultralight. That rod I used for the first time. I believe it casts the jig a lot shorter than the five-and-a-half-foot ultralight I made from a St. Croix blank.

Saw a lot of trout by use of polarizers. I noticed that some were more aggressive than others. At first, trout would chase the jig but not hit. Steady retrieve with rod jerks. Then I went upstream and two trout swooped on it. They wouldn't commit. Their noses got within millimeters of the hook. It's amazing to see how discerning they can be. 

I cast upstream and got a definite bump. I saw the trout turn, too. Pretty soon, I got absolutely slammed. The trout measured only 12 1/2 inches long, but chunky. 

Went upstream further to find nothing but water that was too shallow. And after all the rain we recently had.

Went back down. There were two guys just a little downstream staying in place. Learned they'd caught none. I found trout much less interested than when I first cast to them upon arrival. I went downstream and found an open space where I could cast from high up on the bank...and descend to the river edge if necessary. Became necessary. I had got bump when I saw that fish turn, too, and more close follows. Finally, wham! 

That one measured 14 inches.

New Jersey Trout Fishing

What is It with Fish Limits?

After a couple of cancellations due to weather, I got to fish Barnegat Inlet with Fred today, seeking that elusive first take-home tog. I caught a 17-incher in June 2022, out of season. Today, my first hookup felt like a really nice fish, which I managed to keep out of the rocks and bring up on the jetty. Measured 16 inches, so it went into the bag. I raised issue with Fred about replacing it with larger later on, and he reminded me that we're allowed one apiece, so it's no problem. I hoped to hook a four- or five-pounder but I was just dreaming.

I hooked some nice fish I lost, but four or five pounds? 

We caught 30 or 40 tog, I'm guessing that's about what it was. A lot of tog. For a species as tightly protected as this one is--but what species isn't anymore, even bluefish are limited to three, while on the freshwater side of rules and regulations you can wipe out a bass pond in a week--I couldn't help but laugh at the government. What do I know? Well, hits from tog on every cast. I know that much. 

Fred had a hell of a day. How can you blame a guy who wants to bring dinner home? And so much better than cashing out at the supermarket. Tog after tog he caught measured 14 inches or better. One of them measured 14 7/8 inches. Seven or eight of  them were 14 1/2 inches. 

Fred's friend Jimmy

Fred's astonishment at measuring a 14 7/8-inch tog.

Inlet

 

Narrowing It Down to the Big One

 

Our Lake Hopatcong ritual remains potent as the 20th fall of my getting on the water there approaches. I've invested good money in renting boats from Dow's. On the way to the Ledge or possibly Sunken Island, Jimmy Welsh swept by us in his center console. I was certain he headed for Sunken Island, and when I saw him there, I stopped short at the right-angle turn of the Ledge, immediately marking loads of fish. 

As expected.

There was no wind. That made putting out unweighted herring easy. With four herring lines over the side, I also put a nightcrawler out, by which I quickly caught a white perch. And then herring lines ran though rod guides. I caught and released a 16-inch hybrid, then caught the 4.8-pounder photographed later in the afternoon (below). It had died in the livewell. My wife and I will have it for dinner tonight.

I missed the hit from another hybrid. Setting the hook too soon may be better than setting it too late. After that, I maneuvered the boat with my electric behind an island with no sun on the water. Overhead, not a cloud in the sky.

Kevin quickly caught a smallmouth bass of about 14 inches on a nightcrawler. Got that worm close to rocks. I ended up catching two largemouths on a Senko, losing a nice one on that blue-purple worm and missing another hit. I got a smallmouth on a live herring and a nice black crappie on another of the same. 

I very much enjoyed throwing the Senko. (Actually a Yum Dinger.) Fly casting isn't the only way for fishing line to satisfy. Putting a worm--repeatedly--right where you want it to go is fun. And once and awhile a bass takes that worm. 

We had two dozen live herring and I felt determined to use them. I told Kevin about the time I caught a six-pound walleye on the Ledge at about 2:00 p.m. shortly before my son and I would leave, under a cloudless sky. Today, I had caught what were as yet my only two hybrids before the sun rose. The sun came up shortly after I weighed my big one. No necessity existed that would limit us to that catch owing to the conditions, but I wasn't entirely confident that the Ledge would work out for us. But we would mark fish. 

So, well, we should work for them!

A slight breeze had come up. Unweighted herring rode pretty high over fish marking as deep as 33 feet, as the boat slowly eased along the drop-off towards Halsey Island. Water temperature was 64 when we got on the lake; now it approached the mark of 70 where it would be when we left. Obviously, the lake had turned over quite a bit, though today's heat ran contrary to that. I did miss a hit, and immediately thereafter noticed big fish marking only eight feet down, but I'd say 95 percent or more of the fish were deep. 

I put medium split shots on our four lines. Some of our herring died, needing oxygen. They were getting down on bottom about 38 feet deep. So I looked for smaller shot, found some, and situated them about six feet up the line from the herring. The idea was to give the bait some mobility with the lighter weight, as well as the ability to swim above that weight, should it get down on bottom too deep.

The breeze ceased. A little fine-tuning of our position by use of the electric motor resulted in a couple of little 14- and 15-inch hybrids for me. We floated over the drop-off at 38 feet where fish marked at 31 to 33 feet deep. Where we had fished over 30 feet of water, no fish marked on the graph. Then the breeze picked back up. I repositioned with the electric and lowered anchor. We continued using the little shot, and Kevin caught a hybrid over 16 inches. I caught a smallmouth bass. Kevin caught a big bullhead by turn. 

And then I said, "Kevin." I had seen his rod tip lower. He wasn't paying attention, but it became immediately evident he had hooked a big one. The fish took off on such a sustained run, I wondered if he'd hooked a musky. Or, more likely, a big channel catfish. I would have to coach him. He's not very experienced and I knew the fish was no easy. "Pump the rod. Then reel as you lower the tip back down. Then pump again. Keep a bend in the rod." He kept reeling as the fish took drag, but his getting the pumping motion right enough was critical to getting the fish to the net. It took a long while. 

"Look at the size of that fish! It's eight or nine pounds!" I said, having just netted the biggest hybrid I'd ever seen besides a mounted eight-pounder and a huge hybrid I witnessed getting caught from shore at Spruce Run Reservoir. I weighed Kevin's at 7.73 pounds. Quarter pound shy of eight. It measured 27 inches long. 

4.8 Pounds

Not a bad smallmouth.

I do like catching bass on these Hopatcong outings.

They always appear pretty.

Hopatcong crappies can be pretty big.

Little hybrids fight hard too.

Trolled Hybrids