tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65831149358250541522024-03-13T11:41:24.402-05:00CB Fishesand cooks and makes music and stuffChris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.comBlogger141125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-90374097901636100522012-08-16T07:15:00.000-05:002012-08-16T08:44:51.289-05:00Still getting updates from here? Head over to cbfishes.com!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1b72hkxhyy0/UCz4wNVyk5I/AAAAAAAABRk/rug8tlGsNKY/s1600/2012-08-16_0841.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1b72hkxhyy0/UCz4wNVyk5I/AAAAAAAABRk/rug8tlGsNKY/s640/2012-08-16_0841.png" width="515" /></a></div>
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I recently moved CB Fishes over to <a href="http://cbfishes.com/">cbfishes.com</a> - if you're seeing this in your RSS reader, your email inbox, or some other way... You might want to update your info so you don't miss any new CB Fishes posts!<br />
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As always, thanks for reading and tight lines!</div>
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- Chris</div>
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<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-92078143289761010582012-08-05T11:46:00.000-05:002012-08-05T11:47:11.344-05:00CB Fishes is moving to cbfishes.com!Hey readers!<br />
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CB Fishes is moving! Blogger has been good to me for the past year, but I thought it was time for a change. <a href="http://lifehacker.com/5870649/ditch-godaddys-sopa+loving-butt-and-get-a-better-web-host-at-a-discount" target="_blank">I recently switched web hosts (I left GoDaddy for Dreamhost)</a>, got the cbfishes.com domain, installed Wordpress, and moved the blog over there!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">This site, cbfishes.blogpost.com, will still be here <i><b>but all new posts will be on <a href="http://cbfishes.com/">cbfishes.com</a>.</b></i></span><br />
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I'm still working on setting up the "get CB Fishes delivered to your inbox" thing. If anybody uses Wordpress and knows a good way to auto-mail new posts via email, let me know! I'm still fairly new to WP.<br />
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<b>Why did I decide to move?</b><br />
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I like Blogger; it's easy to use, easy to setup, and easy to customize. In some ways, moving to my own server running Wordpress is like making my own lures; I don't really <i>need</i> to, but by doing so I can learn a lot more about how everything works. I also use Wordpress for work, and I figured this is a great way to get even more familiar with it. Already I've learned some tricks I'll most certainly use on the job.<br />
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<b>Warning: technical jargon ahead!</b><br />
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<i>Also, I like being able to edit CSS files, install plugins via FTP; make quick edits via the command line... Lots of little geeky things that are somewhat unnecessary.. But I want to learn how it all works. Not to mention the fact that now I'm in control of all my data, whereas here on Blogger I can't really get to the actual php or html files. Hosting my own blog, I can backup my whole site with a simple scp or rysync command.</i> <i>I can even create cron jobs. It's pretty cool.</i><br />
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<b>...end of technical jargon.</b><br />
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So from now on, head on over to the new <a href="http://cbfishes.com/">cbfishes.com</a>! Pardon the dust while I get things tweaked...<br />
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Do you like the new design? Are you sad I'm leaving Blogger? Let me know in the comments!Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-56330947085551547622012-08-03T20:51:00.000-05:002012-08-03T20:51:06.131-05:00Big Will's Creek, AlabamaMy alarm went off, shockingly waking me up. It was 4:30am. Maybe it was 5am. I was pretty sure it was Sunday, and I was in Birmingham, Alabama. It took a minute to realize what was happening, just like it always does. I was at Sam's parents' house, where'd I'd been staying since the previous Tuesday. In town for work, visiting <a href="http://chartcapture.com/">ChartCapture</a> HQ in Vestavia, Alabama; meeting many of my coworkers for the first time (that's what happens when you work from home) and generally having a great time.<br />
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Just like pretty much every day so far, we were going fishing. Perhaps more than the other impromptu fishing trips, this trip was going to be more of an adventure.<br />
<br />
Sometime soon Scott and his son Alex were going to show up at the door, ready to hit the road. Sam and I quickly made coffee, gulped it down, and took stock of our fishing gear. I put some new mono line on my L.L. Bean ultralight reel, hoping I could escape the recent reel problems I'd been having. My $15 Meijer ultralight reel and the braided line I put on it were not getting along... Every few casts a bird's nest of epic proportions would spontaneously form, and my lure would splash into the shallow water, held back by the un-untie-able knots.<br />
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Scott arrived, surprisingly awake; Sam and I loaded our gear into his SUV. I strapped on my river shoes, plopped myself into the seat, and we were off. We were headed for Big Will's Creek, about an hour north of Birmingham. <br />
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I'd been surprised how quickly urban/suburban landscape of the city transitioned into rural Alabama. This was my first trip to the south, if you don't count a random trip to Georgia to get a dog when I must have been 8 or 9. I didn't know what to expect, other than a vague idea of southern culture and the idea that I needed to drink some sweet tea.<br />
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Sam and I had fished a bunch of places all around B-ham; the Cahaba River, Little Shades Creek, Big Shades Creek.. Perhaps some other ones. Unfamiliar with the geography and overwhelmed by the sheer number of rivers and streams winding their way through the appalachian foothills, it was hard to keep track. I was constantly surprised by how beautiful the landscape was in suburban Birmingham where I was staying. Not that I anticipated an ugly city, but the plentiful "mountains" (very very tall hills) and extra-green foliage everywhere made for some marvelous vistas.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3y970bLfBjE/UBx9nsWZB3I/AAAAAAAABQ4/IjGiVUI2jP0/s1600/2012-08-03+07.48.07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3y970bLfBjE/UBx9nsWZB3I/AAAAAAAABQ4/IjGiVUI2jP0/s640/2012-08-03+07.48.07.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alabama mountains</td></tr>
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These were things we saw as we made our way north/northeast toward our fishing destination. As the sun came up, fog meandered around the ever-present kudzu greenery which covered most everything in the whole area. Big bright green leaves, some kind of vine. Whole areas of hillside were blanketed with the stuff.<br />
<br />
We stopped to get the necessities; ice, some more water, beef jerky, and another pack of beef jerky. I grabbed a little can of starbuck's something-or-other that promised multiple shots of espresso that in my early-morning state I was powerless to resist.<br />
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Soon we were close. Sam and Scott trying to get their GPS's to agree. Looking at the little purple lines and arrows, watching the blue dot bounce on Sam's phone, it was incredibly unclear quite where we were and where we were going. Our destination was Big Will's Outfitters in Gadsden, Alabama. It is not right off the expressway. It is not on a main drag. There are no bilboards for it.<br />
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We made our way up a mountain- and it really was a mountain- on a gravel and dirt road snaking around precarious-looking cliffs. Scott expertly maneuvered his SUV up the road that, to my midwestern eyes, absolutely did not seem wide enough to be two lanes. At one point a car going in the opposite direction flashed by my window and I was amazed. The whole thing was a bit like a roller coaster ride, in a good way, especially since I knew it would end in fishing instead of me throwing up into a bucket. Well, maybe both.<br />
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We passed a sign that said "Road closed ahead." I wondered if we might just fly of the mountain into the river. Wouldn't be the worst way to go, at least we might provide some structure and food for some fish.<br />
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What the sign should have said was "There used to be a real scary lookin' bridge going from one mountain to the other but that done broke and all that's left is a post-apocalyptic-lookin' pile of scrap metal perched above the river." The four of us sat there, staring at the mess of metal that was the only thing between us and our destination. Apparently.<br />
<br />
Maybe the photogenic mist floating all around the mountains was messing with our GPS. Maybe we were just too far away from civilization. Either way, it was clear we had to retrace our steps back down the mountain. Pedal to the metal, we flew back down the thin and winding road, eventually finding the unmarked street we needed to take.<br />
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After a comedic scenic drive through the country, the ultra-green foggy mountains providing the backdrop to postcard-like farms, we caught a glimpse of a little sign. "Big Will's Outfitters" I think it said and an arrow. Might have just said "BWO." A few feet later there was a wooden paddle sticking out of the ground. Maybe it fell off the mountain and that's where it landed.<br />
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Finally, passing a couple of cows, we were there. As we passed the cows I couldn't help but simultaneously admire them and think about how good I bet they would taste. I bet they had nice lives out there in the country, free to wander around the fields, eating plants and stuff. There are probably worse ways to live as a cow, even if they end up as steak and brisket eventually.<br />
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And then we met Josh, the proprietor of the fine paddling and fishing establishment. He was a good-natured dude who didn't mind we were quite a bit late for our paddling adventure. Josh had agreed to open up shop a little early so we could get fishing before hordes of pleasure-paddlers drifted down the river. His shop was adorned with the requisite "big fish" pictures, a few lures for sale on a couple lonely racks, and a bin full of multi-colored glasses keepers. You know, foam things that will prevent your glasses from sinking to the bottom of the river. Seems like something I should get, but I didn't. There was also a rack of t-shirts I already knew I'd be revisiting later.<br />
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We parked the car and transferred our gear to his van. A giant wooden cross rose from an otherwise empty grass field. At first I thought it was some kind of practical wooden device, serving some kind of paddling-related purpose I didn't know about, but then I realized it was just a cross. A Jesus cross. I suppose he was into fishing, from what I read.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ofNTLRJ04sE/UBx_kMEuEzI/AAAAAAAABRQ/zjJhebdKaoQ/s1600/2012-07-29+09.11.20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ofNTLRJ04sE/UBx_kMEuEzI/AAAAAAAABRQ/zjJhebdKaoQ/s400/2012-07-29+09.11.20.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I did manage one fish that day...<br />a spunky little redeye bass</td></tr>
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Josh drove us and two canoes upstream to our put in. On the way he talked about the fish in the creek, what they liked, where to find them; he clearly knew a lot about fishing. I sure like meeting people who know a lot about fishing. It occurred to me that I was now in the south where, according to the internet, fishing was a big-time sport with big-time celebrities. There were bass fishing teams at high schools. Everybody seemed to fish. I liked it.<br />
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At our launch point we each marked our territory in the woods, rigged up our rods, and took the obligatory group photo. The creek (or river; still not sure which- I'll just call it a river) was pristine and brown. I couldn't tell if it was muddy or just off-color from clay deposits or something. I guessed it was the latter. Coolers, rods, tackle, and snacks in the boats, we set off into the river. Scott and I in the first, Sam and Alex in the second.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Immediately it was clear this was a different kind of water than I'm used to in the midwest. Like the rivers I'm used to fishing, the banks were lined with trees, rocks, foliage; the usual riparian suspects. Unlike my usual streams, there were towering kudzu-covered mountains in the distance. The river was the natural result of the valley- the water has to go somewhere. The water was cold, very refreshing after a few outings in bathtub-like water. I was sure the fish would appreciate it as well.<br />
<br />
Looking down the river, I had to do a double-take when I saw two cows in the water. They were standing there, maybe cooling off a bit, their tails casually swatting flies away. We gave each other questioning looks, saying "What are *you* doing here?" As we approached they walked back up onto the bank and watched us float by. I'm glad they did, otherwise we wouldn't have been able to keep floating downstream. I was so enthralled I didn't even get a picture.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D7NlpFMvZrw/UBx94EBZM0I/AAAAAAAABRA/oWoWNY_7eGg/s1600/2012-08-03+07.48.55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D7NlpFMvZrw/UBx94EBZM0I/AAAAAAAABRA/oWoWNY_7eGg/s640/2012-08-03+07.48.55.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott and the first catch of the day</td></tr>
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Scott was the first to hook up with a fish, one of the native red eye bass found only in certain areas of the southeast. Unknown to Sam and me until recently, the red eye bass is a distinct species from the other more familiar members of the black bass family (largemouth and smallmouth). It looks like a smallie, fights like a smallie, but also kind of looks like a spotted bass. They don't grow as big as their relatives, but they make up for it with their striking coloring. And their awesome red eyes.<br />
<br />
Energized by tossing off the skunk so quickly, we got down to serious fishing. The four of us floated, fished, made adjustments with our paddles, and fished some more. Sometimes one would fish and the other would paddle, then we'd switch. The scenery was amazing, the river was awesome. The sonic landscape was just as surprising to me; not even a hint of an expressway. No cars nearby, no planes overhead, just the sound of cicadas and other bugs doing their thing in the agricultural land around us. It was a refreshing change from the usual roar of transportation-related sounds in Chicago.<br />
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Early on it was clear to me I was going to have one of those days. On of those fishing trips where everything goes wrong, where it's a struggle to cast, hard to hit the right spots, and lures are lost by the pound. The river was in no short supply of downed trees and branches. They were everywhere; whole trees lined the river, gnarly roots snaked down into the water. These all made for great fishing spots, but also lent themselves to stealing lures and snapping lines. The sometimes jagged bedrock on the river bottom didn't help either.<br />
<br />
Scott doesn't fish rivers often, so I was doing my best impression of a river fishing guide. Putting him on the fishiest spots, those little pools near timber and rocks; suggesting he cast right next to that tree trunk, working the chigger craw in that particular way. I was overjoyed when he pulled out his first bass! <br />
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In the meantime, I felt like I was a total newbie fisherman again. Loosing lures after every few casts, my line snapping inexplicably; the trees and branches reaching out to catch my lures on otherwise nice casts... It was tough going.<br />
<br />
The fishing was fairly tough, but everything else about the adventure was exceptional. It was great to get to know Scott a little more. We've been working together for weeks but never met in person until recently. The scenery was gorgeous. Our coolers were full of beer and sandwiches. Sam produced a flask full of whiskey from some unknown corner of his fishing vest. It was real good times.<br />
<br />
We stopped to fish a particularly fishy-looking bend in the river. I told Scott how the outside bend in rivers is always deeper, sharing information that is fairly new to myself, as I cast like a four-year-old and lost another jig with a snap. I would have switched to crankbaits or spinners, but I left that box in the van at Sam's parents' house.<br />
<br />
Scott's son Alex, on his way to becoming an expert angler at 13, is really into fishing. As I understand it he will sit for hours trying to coax reluctant fish from their hiding spots. Sometimes he gets frustrated, as we all certainly do, but he persists because he knows how great it is to hook into a nice fish. He has a great attitude about fishing; somehow he already knows it's as much about getting there and fishing as it is the catching.<br />
<br />
Suddenly he got snagged, which was probably the first time that happened to him that morning. Then I heard "Dad, I think I got a catfish!"<br />
<br />
Sam, Scott and I stopped fishing and turned toward Alex, who clearly had a fish on. A nice one. A nice big cat, go Alex! I thought. I dropped my rod and headed over to see the action- I think Sam and Scott did the same. Alex got the fish to the shallows, and we saw it wasn't a cat, but a VERY nice bass! I think Sam giggled. I most certainly did. Usually in these situations I perfume the air with my patented celebratory profanity spray, but I did my best to stifle that due to the younger ears. "Oh darn! That's big!" I might have said.<br />
<br />
Alex got the fish up, lipped it, and the four of us stood there in awe of the GIANT monster he'd just caught.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LAobwtjqvGg/UBx-bUkqugI/AAAAAAAABRI/Yc41J3j0lMc/s1600/2012-07-29+17.35.51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LAobwtjqvGg/UBx-bUkqugI/AAAAAAAABRI/Yc41J3j0lMc/s640/2012-07-29+17.35.51.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex and the catch of the day- creek monster spotted bass</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Well that right there makes it all worth it- to see the look on his face, holding that monster of a fish. Heck, I'm sure my face looked the same! That was an awesome fish. I seem to remember shouting a lot, congratulating him, my own fishing troubles melting away- so happy to see Alex with such a nice fish.<br />
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Naturally we all fished the heck out of that spot- I got snagged about 300 more times, which meant I got find out there was a deep whole where he caught the bass. In fact, I discovered a few deeper holes in the river. Water came up almost to my neck, but I was determined to unhook my snagged lures. I don't mind getting wet if I can learn a little something about where the fish hang out...<br />
<br />
There were some spots downriver we worked; Scott got a few more, I got one; Sam and Alex were cleaning up over in their boat. At some point we looked at our watches and realized how tired we should be; although there were tons of fishy spots in the last mile of our trip, we mostly paddled over them. It was late afternoon, we were tired, and it was time to go.<br />
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I'll never forget the amazing scenery, the great conversation, and of course the single really nice fish from this trip; as I sit here in Illinois, part of me wants to go back to Alabama. The other part just wants to go fishing- right now.Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0Gadsden, AL, USA34.014264 -86.006638633.90897 -86.1645671 34.119558 -85.8487101tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-24440137552374702932012-07-18T07:11:00.000-05:002012-07-17T22:55:53.393-05:00HotdogsI figured I would do some fishing last night, just around sunset. It was crazy hot, just like every other day recently, but I thought it might be fun to catch a couple topwater bass. I headed to the local pond, tied on my red and white topwater lure (zara spook?) and worked it across the water.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/529546_10100931137055792_128255127_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/529546_10100931137055792_128255127_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First catch on the red and white beck-spook<br />
(back in Michigan fishing with my buddy Mark)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There was almost no surface activity. Any feeding was happening below the surface. Stubbornly, I tried every retrieve I could think of to coax the bass to the surface. Something I read earlier came to mind, something like "Find out what the <i>fish</i> want, not what you want to fish with."<br />
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I reached into my pack and pulled out a hotdog. I broke off a piece, strung it on a big hook, and carefully cast it out into the pond. I stuck the rod butt in a hole in the pipe and set to work rigging a tube on my other rod. I thought it would be nice to give the bass a break and see if any cats were around. (Read: the bass weren't biting the one lure I threw for 10 minutes so I'd fish for another species.)<br />
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Almost immediately the rod tip started to dance. Fish! I dropped my rod and grabbed the other rod from the pipe hole, but the fish was gone, and he took the hotdog. Fair enough, fish. Fair enough.<br />
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I put another piece of hotdog on the hook, cast it out, and started working the tube with my other rod. Some guys were making their way around the pond, clearly headed home after a fishing trip. As they walked by I said hello.<br />
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"Hey what do you catch in here.. catfish?" they asked.<br />
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"Yeah, and bass and bluegill" I replied.<br />
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"Bass!? There are bass in here?" They were incredulous. I wondered if I shouldn't have told them. Would they come back and leave their sh*$ everywhere like some other fishermen? I decided I shouldn't jump to conclusions and give them the benefit of the doubt.<br />
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"Yeah man," I said. "Lots of bass, mostly small ones [I measured with my hands] but there are a couple bigger ones."<br />
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"Oh wow, cool man. You ever fish for catfish?"<br />
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"Yeah, I've caught some nice ones here, one big one a few weeks back, around 27"<br />
<br />
"Ok cool.. Hey you want some catfish bait?"<br />
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I appreciated their offer, but the main reason I haven't fished with any "catfish bait" is I don't want to touch a bunch of disgusting rotting meat or anything. Also I have plenty of luck with my own bait, but I didn't want to offend them.<br />
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"Oh thanks man, I appreciate it, but I've got some hotdog already."<br />
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"Hotdog? Man, you can't catch anything on hotdogs!"<br />
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As un-douchey as I could manage, "Actually the biggest cat from this pond was on a hotdog!"<br />
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Maybe they thought I was joking. They didn't seem to believe me, and took that as their cue to leave. I was serious, but I'm aware sometimes it's hard to tell if I'm being serious. We wished each other luck, and they headed on their way. I turned my attention back to the pond, where there seemed to be more activity happening than before.<br />
<br />
The bugs were bad. The sun was down. It was dark. Mosquitos found every inch of my sweat-drenched skin and drilled. My jeans and hiking boots protected the lower half of me but it seemed to concentrate the bugs on my upper half.<br />
<br />
After a while I gave up on bass fishing and concentrated on finding a nice cat. Any cat, really, I just wanted to catch a catfish. I wondered if they'd be more active than the bass with these insane temperatures and water like some tea that sat out for a few minutes. Warm to the touch.<br />
<br />
And just when I was ready to pack it in, my rod once again became animated. Then it stopped. I grabbed it, waiting to set the hook... The movement picked up again, I set the hook (Jeremy Wade style, of course) and the fight was on!<br />
<br />
I had set my drag pretty loose to prevent a fish from taking my rod and to make the fight more interesting. In the dusk light, I couldn't make out the fish yet, but it felt pretty big. My drag screamed as the fish took out line, heading to the bottom. Then it came toward me, almost tangling in a bunch of weeds- I thought I was going to loose it! I wondered if my drag should be tighter. I tightened it.<br />
<br />
I saw the fish, a big channel cat, just like I guessed. I felt proud I could identify it by its fight. A great looking fish! Because of my light line and loose drag, I really had to work the fish to get it in. I couldn't just muscle it in, I had to wait until it was ready.<br />
<br />
When it was, I grabbed it, took some pictures, and admired my catch.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://distilleryimage10.instagram.com/6b6ebac6d08211e1b10e123138105d6b_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://distilleryimage10.instagram.com/6b6ebac6d08211e1b10e123138105d6b_7.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course I forgot to weight it or measure it.<br />
Right after I released it I pulled out my ruler.<br />
I estimate about 28" long. Whoohoo!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I don't know why catfish get such a bad rap; they're really awesome animals. They're tough, they get big, and their whole body is a nose. They can smell better than some dogs. That's pretty awesome, I think.<br />
<br />
I took the fish to the water and held it there for a moment, allowing it to get its bearings. It casually swam away, and it reminded me of an actual cat, its tail moving back and forth like it just didn't care.<br />
<br />
Turns out, yes you can catch fish on hotdogs.Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-2206117215550149052012-07-17T07:21:00.000-05:002012-07-17T10:10:57.880-05:00Bowfin!...and why I'm done fishing for anything else<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/552434_10100931407873072_1345717542_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/552434_10100931407873072_1345717542_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charlie and his dad fishin'</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I hooked the bluegill through the tail, just how <a href="http://foxriverfishing.net/">Sam Bennett</a> showed me. It took me a few casts to get it where I wanted it, but the third cast landed exactly where I thought there might be a fish. The sun was setting. Mosquitos buzzed around us. Charlie the six-year-old stood a few feet away, working on getting some more little bluegill. Leo, his dad, stood next to me doing the same. We were standing at the edge of a marshy pond, a pipe behind us spilling water from the bigger lake into this small pool. We saw huge ripples moving around the surface of the water. Something big was in there.<br />
<br />
We were camping! We were camping fishing. As I've mentioned before, camping is awesome! I didn't grow up camping, but that's ok... When I was a kid I would have <i>hated</i> it. I spent a few summers at Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp near Muskegon, Michigan, which was basically a bunch of music stuff set outside and in cabins and rustic buildings. I loved the music stuff, hated all the rustic-ness. The dirt and bugs. The smell of pine trees. Ok, I didn't hate that, but I certainly didn't like the outdoors.<br />
<br />
A year ago we went camping with the Smerglias, which was my very first time camping. I loved it! Fishing was my gateway drug to the hardcore stuff of camping and the outdoors. A couple months back Claire and I camped near the Mississppi- <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2012/05/cb-goes-camping-and-catches-mississippi.html">and I caught the biggest fish I've ever caught to date</a>. This time, I was a very experienced camper- with two other campings under my belt, I felt like I could probably live in the wild with nothing but a knife and a fishing rod.<br />
<br />
Of course, that's not true. I got about 60 seconds into setting up our tent when Claire had to come help me. I can't identify poison ivy. Ticks still freak me out. When Walter had two ticks on him after five minutes on the campground, there was a little groan inside of me. I forget to drink water and only remember to go fishing.<br />
<br />
Camping combines a bunch of things I really like: being outside, grilling, fires, fishing, seeing animals, being dirty... When I was a kid I didn't get too dirty or play outside that much. Now's my time to make up for lost time!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/563448_10100931411256292_1930372079_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/563448_10100931411256292_1930372079_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walter the fishing dog</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The night before, I think it was our second night camping, we were on a mission. Charlie wanted to catch a big catfish. Leo and I were more than willing to oblige, although it was a struggle to keep the kid entertained while our rods stood motionless, connected to our stationary offerings in the water. We had nightcrawlers on the hooks, I tried some topwater lures, but nothing was going for the bait. I reached into my fishing backpack and pulled out a hotdog. I cut off a piece with my fingers and strung it onto a big black hook and cast it out into the water.<br />
<br />
The dark was illuminated by our three headlamps and the glow of our little electronic devices. Even the possibility of big fish couldn't keep me entertained <i>all</i> the time; I checked <a href="https://twitter.com/cbfishes">my Twitter</a> while I waited for the big one.<br />
<br />
It wasn't too long before there was some action. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a rod wiggle. I looked up, squinting in the dark, and saw it wiggle again. Fish on!<br />
<br />
I think it was Leo's rod, if my memory serves me he was the first to hook into a fish. He battled the fish, reeling it in, and soon we saw a little brown fish come out of the water. A bullhead?! With the help of Leo's fishing gloves, I lipped it, and it proceeded to bite down on my thumb like I was caught in a door. Ouch! Good for you, bullhead.<br />
<br />
Charlie and I posed for a picture. Not exactly the giant catfish we were hoping for, but at least we were in the ballpark!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://distilleryimage11.instagram.com/9d25c424d00f11e1b0c912313b089111_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://distilleryimage11.instagram.com/9d25c424d00f11e1b0c912313b089111_7.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">late night bullhead!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So they like hotdogs, do they? I suppose it's not that strange... I like hotdogs too. I usually grill mine, but I don't think any fish have little grills down there. Probably hard to light.<br />
<br />
We swapped out the bluegills for hotdog on all the rods. The nice thing about the way we hooked the 'gills is they swam away, apparently just fine. Most likely they will become some bass's midnight snack... But at least they have a chance.<br />
<br />
After a few minutes, we all zoned out, turning back to our glowing devices. Occasionally I noticed the dark sky filled with glistening little points of light, enjoying how dark it was and how many stars I could see. I think I even saw some satellites or planes flying really high.<br />
<br />
And then out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a rod jump. I looked up, but there was no movement. "Did that rod just move?" I asked Leo. We stared at the rod, but it wasn't moving. I stood up slowly, approaching the rod. I looked at the rod tip, and in the dark I could have sworn I saw some movement there. I picked up the rod, and holding it in my hands I was sure there was a fish on. "There's a fish!" I whispered. And then I felt it again. I swiftly yanked up the rod- Jeremy Wade style- and the fight was on. Fish on!<br />
<br />
Leo jumped up, Charlie jumped up; I handed the rod to Charlie, hoping he'd have the chance to fight and reel in a big catfish. This fish felt big for sure- if it was a catfish, it was most certainly a biggun. Leo held onto the rod while Charlie tried to make sense of the backwards reel (he was used to the closed-reel type reels that usually come with the crank on the left) while I jumped up and down giggling. Charlie had a big smile on his face. The rod danced around in hands; at one point all three of us were holding the rod, helping to bring in this giant fish.<br />
<br />
When we got it close, I looked down into the water, trying to identify it. Oh, channel cat. Awesome! "It's a channel cat!" I said/shouted. We reeled it in more. "No, it's a bass! A weird looking bass" we got it all the way to us, and it hung there attached to our line. "What the heck is <i>that!?"</i><br />
<br />
We were looking at a fish none of us had ever seen. It was smoother and more tapered than a bass, but it had tiny barbels like a catfish, a huge long dorsal fin, and a little spot on its tail.<br />
<i> </i><br />
Snakehead!??<br />
<br />
I quickly dismissed that idea, having studied "River Monsters" like it was my college major, knowing that snakeheads have way more patterning on their scales... And aren't found this far north, at least for now. I thought I knew what it was.<br />
<br />
"Bowfin!?" I said, pronouncing it like it rhymed with "poe-fin." I still don't know how to say it. "Dogfish!?"<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/431820_10100928910692442_1332749535_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/431820_10100928910692442_1332749535_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dogfish!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We giggled and high-fived, I held the fish in my boga-grip knockoff. I'd never seen a fish like this. I felt like we just caught a river monster! After a ton of pictures, we released the monster back into the water. We rebaited the hooks with the little bit of hotdog we had left (I had chummed the water a bit, I wonder if that's what brought in the fish...) and quickly googled dogfish on our devices to find out more about our new quarry. Almost immediately I found the <a href="http://www.bowfinanglers.com/">Bowfin Anglers Group</a>, a website dedicated to this awesome fish, and read every line of text I could find. So did Leo.<br />
<br />
After a while, we ran out of bait, we were all pretty tired, so we made the hike back to camp. The whole way back we talked about how many dogfish there might be in this lake, and what they eat, and how big they get, and how we could find more, and the teeth they have, and how kind of scary it was, and how awesome it was, and on hotdogs.... We spent the rest of the night telling our wives stories of the monster we just caught and sharing facts we found on the internet.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
°°°</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And now, we were back out on the water. This was our last night camping, our last chance to catch a big fish. Leo had the idea to catch some bluegill and use them as bait. Earlier in the day, we saw a bass steal a 'gill off Leo's hook and devour it in a matter of seconds. It was one of the most awesome things I'd ever seen! I'd only fished with bluegill for flatheads, and wasn't sure we'd really catch anything here with them. Of course, I was dead wrong. Leo was right.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Right around sunset, we caught as many little bluegill as we could, and kept them in our little minnow bucket. We found the most- and the biggest- panfish in a shallow marshy area. The water couldn't have been more than 12 inches deep. In daylight, we could see every detail of the bottom of the pond, at least the area closest to us. Little panfish darted around. We caught a bunch of bluegill- Leo even caught a shiner! At least we think that's what it was.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
So here we were, watching huge wakes and ripples move around the shallow water, wondering what those fish could be. We had a hunch, but couldn't be sure until we caught one. Leo guessed whatever they were, they were feeding on the plentiful bluegill in the little marshy area.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It couldn't have been more than a minute or two before something found my little bluegill. I felt a strong hit, just like when I'd been flatheading with Sam. "I got a hit!!" I yelled. I didn't feel any tension on the line. Did I miss it? And then it came back, perhaps circling around for the kill; the fish slammed into my bait like a freight train, I set the hook like I was trying to pull up the bottom of the pond.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Immediately, the fish knew it was hooked. It was not happy. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The relative silence of the pond was decimated by more splashing than I'd ever seen or heard in my life. An octopus on speed would have made less noise than this. The fish almost pulled the rod right out of my hands. It made runs in all directions at once; there was so much water I'm surprised we didn't get soaked, as we were standing only a few feet away from the beast.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
In the twilight, it was impossible to tell what it was. The rod bent over, I worried about it breaking. We were ecstatic! Leo and Charlie watched in eager anticipation, exclaiming, while I'm sure a steady stream of profanity flew out of my mouth. Charlie didn't seem to notice, he was intently watching the thrashing river monster we'd just hooked.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The fight was like no other fish I'd ever hooked into. It was <b>strong</b>. Although <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2012/05/cb-goes-camping-and-catches-mississippi.html">the giant drum I caught last time we were camping</a> was huge and gave quite a fight, this fish was different. There was no frantic running around like a scared fish; this was calculated aggression against my hook. This fish wasn't running away, this fish was trying to beat the sh*& out of whatever had grabbed it.</div>
<br />
The closer we got it, the more it thrashed. Once it was almost on us, we knew what it was. Another bowfin! Dogfish! Mudfish! Swamp trout! And a big one too. Much bigger than the one caught the night before. Maybe 30 inches long. And heavy.<br />
<br />
I grabbed it with my boga-grips, and the three of us stood there admiring the fish, not sure how to proceed. Any movement on our end was met with muscular thrashing from the bowfin. Charlie had some unreasonable desire to put his fingers near its mouth, and each time the fish lashed out, trying to make a meal of Charlie's little fingers. We stared at the prehistoric fish. I was as scared of it as I was in awe of it. Even being gripped by a pair of metal fingers, I was sure the bowfin could kick my butt if it really wanted to.<br />
<br />
Usually when I remove hooks from fish, I try not to hurt them. In this case, I tried to prevent my own fingers from getting bit off. I read 'fins can survive for 10-15 minutes out of water, using their primitive air bladder/lung to gulp air. They are extremely hardy fish. This one was clearly un-phased from our epic fight, and was still prepared to deal out retribution for hooking it.<br />
<br />
The hook came out easily, and I thanked my lucky stars we landed the fish! Still nervous of the predator I held in my hands, we posed for some pictures. Definitely profile-pic worthy. Absolutely my favorite catch- ever.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/375725_10100929930877982_1627789932_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/375725_10100929930877982_1627789932_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What an amazing creature</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After a few minutes of admiring our catch, Charlie's fingers wiggling dangerously close to the bowfin's mouth lined with little sharp teeth, we released it. It splashed into the water as if nothing had happened, quickly and powerfully swimming away.<br />
<br />
We high-fived, excited by the incredible creature we'd just held, anxious to catch more! Now we knew what those wakes were- bowfin. There were at least four of them, swimming around dining on bluegill. It was amazing. In the dim light, the knowledge of what they were made it even creepier. I questioned the safety of my toes, so close to the water where these toothy animals roamed.<br />
<br />
We tried some other spots, but weren't able to catch any more dogfish. I got a little bullhead later on hotdog, but that was the last fish we caught while camping. It paled in comparison to the incredibly powerful snake-like monster.<br />
<br />
In fact, pretty much every fish I'd ever caught- ever- paled in comparison to the bowfin. I decided then and there to give up fishing for every other species. No more bass fishing, why bother with panfish (except for bait); trout will never see my flies again.<br />
<br />
When I grow up I'm going to be a bowfin angler. I just need to learn how to pronounce "bowfin."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/532326_10100929929251242_1466535_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/532326_10100929929251242_1466535_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even the biggest bass I've ever caught pales in comparison to this monster</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-33930639898264781572012-07-05T07:23:00.000-05:002012-07-05T07:23:29.617-05:00Claire caught a monster!Somehow, Claire and I found ourselves standing in the Fox River at 6:30am on the Fourth of July.<br />
<br />
I had planned to go regardless; as any faithful reader knows, I will forgo sleep at the drop of a hat to do some good fishing. The night before, Claire suddenly announced she wanted to go with me. She hesitantly asked what time she'd have to get up. I said 4:30am. She groaned.<br />
<br />
We had packed the car, drank our coffee, said goodbye to Walter- standing there, confused to see both of us up so unnaturally early- and hit the road. After a short drive we were now in the river, fishing, just as the sun was coming up.<br />
<br />
On Claire's third cast, she got hung up on some rocks, she thought. Then she started yelling "Fish! Fish!" I looked over and saw her light rod doubled down... and heard the drag sending line out to the river. "And it's pulling my line!" I yelled some celebratory profanity and waded over to her as fast as I could.<br />
<br />
The fish broke the surface a few times as Claire furiously tried to reel it in. I caught glimpses of a big brown figure in the water. For a moment I wondered if she'd gotten a flathead, but it wasn't fighting like the ones I'd seen. Then I saw the snout of a smallmouth bass, but I wasn't sure how big it was.<br />
<br />
I reached behind me, grabbing the new net I got for fly fishing, and scooped up the smallie. As it came out of the water I saw how big it was and probably released some more profanity. Holy crap. This was a big fish!<br />
<br />
I was torn between admiration and jealousy for my wife, the big-smallie-catcher. I don't think I'd ever caught a smallie that big on the Fox. <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2012/06/its-smallie-time.html">I got some nice fish on the Rogue in Michigan</a>, but still. Claire, on her third cast, caught a monster. I lipped it, took out the comparatively tiny jig, and gave it to my lovely wife to hold.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/311552_10100916271546392_2042769126_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/311552_10100916271546392_2042769126_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claire got a biggun</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I busted out the tape measure (something I don't often do, but I wanted to know how big this one was) and it measured at least 16". It seemed like it should be longer; perhaps I measured wrong, maybe I have a bad sense of length. Either way it was a giant fish, and both of us were overjoyed. We placed the big fish back in the water, and a few moments later she came to and swam away in the splash of tail I've come to expect. I wiped the water off my glasses.<br />
<br />
We celebrated for a moment, I changed to the fish/grub Claire was using, and started casting. We both got some hits, but neither one of us could set the hook. One hit I got, a sharp, single "TAP" cleanly cut off the tail of my twister. Could it have been a walleye? After a while I suggested we move upstream and see if we couldn't find some more fish. Claire reluctantly obliged, not wanting to leave "the promised land" of the big bass.<br />
<br />
We worked our way upstream, occasionally getting some hits. I saw a guy fishing on the other side of the river, he was working his way downstream as we went upstream. That stretch of the river is wide enough I couldn't quite make him out, but I had a hunch who it was... based on the particular hat, the cigar...<br />
<br />
"Are you Chris?" he shouted across the river. I said I was.. paused.. "Who are you?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Ken!" he shouted back, working his way toward us. Ken G! <a href="http://waterdogjournal.com/">Ken G of Waterdog Journal</a> and years of fishing the Fox- the same Ken who uses jigs with white twisters (which accounted for my first Fox smallie).<br />
<br />
Claire and I fished our spot as Ken waded over to us. We started to get lots of hits, caught some fish; things were turning on. Ken came over and we met face to face, although in some ways I felt I already knew the guy. We'd exchanged messages and emails; I'd read his blog a lot, and I think he'd read some of mine too. It was good to meet the man behind the posts, so to speak. He asked us what all the shouting had been, and we told him about the big fish. Actually, that's not what he asked... he asked "What was all that 'oh #%^$ oh #%@$' about?" Apparently my voice carries down the river. Ken said he knew it was me by the beard and the laughing.<br />
<br />
As we talked, Claire and I had clearly found a good spot to fish- the water on the surface was slightly different in this one particular spot, which is why I first cast there. Hit after hit came from this area, although as before we had some trouble setting our hooks. Ken said there was a dropoff right where we were fishing; some deeper water, apparently stacked up with smallies.<br />
<br />
In the next hour or so, I hooked into somewhere around 15 fish and landed 8 or so. I lost count. Claire and Ken hooked into a bunch of fish too. All the fish I got were fairly small, but they didn't know it. It was a great time! Maybe even the best time I'd ever had fishing the Fox.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/487701_10100916273786902_1215621647_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/487701_10100916273786902_1215621647_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty little fish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
All three of us had issues setting our hooks, but we counted the ones we almost landed. All the smallies I got came from around the same spot, bouncing the 1/16oz jig and chartreuse grub/fish along the bottom, downstream.<br />
<br />
After a while, we tried some other spots where baitfish were breaking the surface, but none of the big fish under them wanted to play. Eventually Ken headed back upstream and we headed back to our entry point- where Claire caught the giant. I tried busting out my fly rod, which I'd been carrying on my fancy (and heavy, now filled with river water) fishing backpack. I think I casted ok, at least in terms of hitting my targets, but I definitely have a lot to learn. I switched back to my spinning gear but it seemed the bite had dried up.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/428564_10100916275742982_965465587_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/428564_10100916275742982_965465587_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smallie stash</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Claire and I called it a day, at least a morning- we hiked back up the trail to our car. As we were leaving Panera I realized I left my fly rod on the grass by the car- we scrambled back to the park, and thankfully it was there.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
°°°</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
On our way home, we stopped by the Dupage to check out the spot where <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2012/06/chris-claire-go-fishing.html">Claire caught so many fish a few weeks back</a>. We saw plenty of green sunfish swimming among the weeds and shadows in the extremely low and clear water... Exploring upstream of the bridge, we found an area that looked amazingly fishy. Right now the water seems too shallow for it to hold many fish, but my guess is with a little more depth that spot will be on fire! I can't wait to come back. I really like exploring new spots, although Claire is usually the one finding the spots.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I lifted up some rocks to see what was under them, and was intrigued to find crawfish scurrying away. Looking at the bottom of the rock, I saw tons of little shiny moving things I could only guess were the larval stage of some river bug. I thought about nymphs in fly fishing, those weird flies I don't quite understand yet. Maybe when these squirming puddles of mud things grew up, they would rise up threw the water, some of them being eaten by hungry river fish. Maybe that's what was up with nymphs...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Slowly wading, not really fishing, I found some really big crawfish. They were very pale, almost white, with pink around their head and claws. I reached down to pick them up, slowly, but not slow enough... With their characteristic backwards jumping move, they escaped my grasp, perhaps only to become some smallie's next meal. It occurred to me I should get some white tubes with pink tentacles for when I return to this spot...</div>
<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-24569800937659234492012-07-03T07:33:00.000-05:002012-07-06T14:36:06.414-05:00Chris Ties FliesFishing has been a little slow lately. The drought-like conditions, the low water levels, the non-stop heat wave... These have all contributed to less than stellar fishing. Saturday I hit the Fox with Sam- he got 3 or 4, I got one tiny one.. But it was my first smallie on a crank!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first fly... Messy and rough around the<br />
edges, but....</td></tr>
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Sunday morning I waded with Osprey (Rob) for quite a long time, but there was zero action. At the very end I managed to hook a tiny smallie for a split second on a white jig and twister. When the little fish threw the hook the whole Algonquin Valley resonated with my profanity.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure what happened here</td></tr>
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Over the weekend I got a fly rod! This was to replace the one that broke and I just returned it. That, coupled with the horribly uncomfortable weather outside motivated me to tie some ties.<br />
<br />
Early yesterday morning I tied my first tie, and tied a bunch at lunch, and even more after work.<br />
<br />
I stepped out for 15 minutes at lunch, fished the new tiny secret green sunfish pond, and got five. My first fish on a fly I tied myself! I stayed for a few more minutes and caught 4 more fish on the fly.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...It caught some fish!</td></tr>
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Right around sunset, I headed for a spot on Salt Creek to do some more fly fishing with my new rod and new flies. It's a humbling experience learning something new like this; just when I think I have a good idea how to handle a spinning rod and reel, fly fishing happens. It's a completely different game.<br />
<br />
I'm enthralled by this new world of fishing; the miniscule lures, the finesse and calmness needed to cast them, the infinite combinations of feathers, hair, and thread that are used to create them. I love making wooden lures, fishing with tube jigs, and tossing texas-rigged worms in front of bass... But I'm starting to love <i>this</i> too. I like the contrast between giant bass spinnerbaits and tiny flies can barely see, but somehow the fish can.<br />
<br />
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As I fished I had plenty of tangles, my fly line wrapped around my rod about a hundred times, the tiny flies with their tiny hooks got caught in tiny branches everywhere... To get a better angle I actually stepped in the creek, but quickly decided I didn't much care for the experience. I saw a little bass swimming around. At one point I had a black wooly bugger, I believe one tied and given to me by Mike Muston, right in front of the bass. I watched him approach, eat it, then immediately spit it out. Apparently I missed the hookset, but I was so enthralled just watching it happen, I didn't care.<br />
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I moved to a different spot and tied on a white fly I'd tied earlier. I've been following "recipes" for flies, in an effort to learn the basics before I try any fancy stuff. I've been trying to tie a wooly bugger, but I can't get it to come out right. I don't have all the right materials, so I'm improvising with what I have. This one is tied with goose feathers I found (for the tail), black yarn for the body (scraps from Claire), and turkey hackle (I think that's what it's called.. from my buddy Mark). I weighted it with some thin wire tied around the hook shank. It looks amazing in the water; it pulses and moves with the water in a way I've never seen plastic do.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I tried to make a wooly bugger...</td></tr>
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As the sun set, I watched my little fly swim around the creek. I thought I'd have some luck with a white fly since I'd had so much luck on white twister tails in the same spot (even though all the baitfish seem to be brown). Turns out, I was right about the color! I saw a little bass approach the surface (my fly was just below the top of the water) and quietly slurp in my fly. Fish on! As soon as I got him on, I suddenly remembered I still don't know how to fight a fish or reel one in on a fly rod... <br />
<br />
It wasn't much of a fight, it seemed like the warm water temperatures and probable lack of oxygen were messing with these fishes' mojo. Somehow I got the little fish in. I set down my phone, set the timer, and got some pictures of my first bass caught on a fly I tied.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My best impression of a trout angler holding a bass</td></tr>
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A few minutes later, as the sun went down behind the trees on the other bank, a slightly bigger bass found my fly. This time I tried to focus more- despite my excitement- and try and remember what the internet told me about what to do when you're fly fishing and you catch a fish. I've been spending a lot more time learning about the casting part, I mostly forgot about the fish catching part!<br />
<br />
I stripped line with my left hand (I'm pretty sure "strip" is the fly fishing term for "pull line in with the hand that isn't holding the rod") while I held the rod in my right hand and held the line with my index finger. I'm still not sure if I was doing that right, using my finger as the drag... When the bass went left, I moved the rod right; when he went right I went left. Soon he was tired, and I brought him in, awkwardly pointing my rod to the sky and struggling to reach the fish.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fish #2 to fall for my untidy fly</td></tr>
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After a while the heat and humidity was too much to bear. Somehow the temperature seemed to be going up after the sun set. I thought I'd do a few casts with my spinning rod that I brought just in case something happened to my fly rod. Apparently I'd forgotten how to cast a spinning rod, as my fingers caught the line, closed the bail, and my little jig smashed into the water like a bowling ball into a kiddy pool.Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-64882109869627656682012-06-26T17:54:00.001-05:002012-07-06T14:36:19.023-05:00Chris and Walter go fishingAfter work Walter came up and said we should go fishing at the pond real quick. I said "sure why not!"<br />
<br />
We headed down to the pond and I tossed in a lure I carved today. I immediately snagged it on a stick. Oh well, that's how it goes. Walter sniffed things as I tied on another.<br />
<br />
I tied on my newly painted flatfish lure- the one that almost caught some bass yesterday. I reeled it in nice and slow. I saw the green flash of a bass coming out of the shadows and attacking my lure.<br />
<br />
Walter didn't know what to make of it. He licked the bass lips and then walked away, doing a small roll in the grass to scratch his back.<br />
<br />
Then I caught another one, a much much bigger one, on the same lure. I showed Walter, but he just sniffed it and walked away. It must have been 16" or so- and fat!! but instead of congratulating me he went to smell something new.<br />
<br />
That's ok, I know he likes frisbee a lot more than fishing.<br />
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<a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-li0Fx27XzT8/T-o9k6AejOI/AAAAAAAABQg/5rv57MU_J8U/s640/blogger-image-95459010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-li0Fx27XzT8/T-o9k6AejOI/AAAAAAAABQg/5rv57MU_J8U/s640/blogger-image-95459010.jpg" /></a></div>Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-34655573452079048342012-06-26T07:10:00.000-05:002012-07-06T14:36:33.272-05:00Drinkbourbon and CBFishes go fishingAnthony (<a href="http://bloginternetz.wordpress.com/">@drinkbourbon</a>) and I have been trying to do some fishing together for some time now. We've been corresponding via all the various internet ways like Twitter, Facebook; Anthony's <a href="http://bloginternetz.wordpress.com/">got a blog</a>, and it seems like we've got a lot in common. Obsessed with fishing, not sure how everything works exactly with the whole fishing thing, oh and did I mention obsessed with fishing?<br />
<br />
I got to the pond a little while before Anthony, and had a great time almost catching a bunch of fish. I tested out some new lures I made, this time before painting them. I just wanted to see how they ran. A little crankbait I made with a plastic lip flipped over itself at any speed, suggesting I might need to change the lip position. I snapped on a weird looking lure I carved and finished with my new Dremel (that thing is freaking awesome). A while back I found a couple "flatfish" lures at Busse- I don't know if they're "Lil' Ikes" or "Flatfish" but the idea is the same. They were so unusual I wanted to see if I could make them myself.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Beckfish (flatfish imitation)</td></tr>
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I was immediately in love with the action of this lure. With a very slow retrieve, it wobbled a ton back and forth, so much so I almost took a swipe at it. On the second cast, I saw three bass come up and try and take it. One of them made it, got hooked right in the lip, but threw the hook in an impressive aerial display of power.<br />
<br />
Well that was awesome. It confirms something I've been thinking and hearing from other anglers I respect a lot- it's all about the action. There was no paint, no eyes, no 3D holographic foil coating, no patented impregnated scent... Just some wood and some metal with some nice action. Maybe the bass apreciated the extra-smooth finish I was able to achieve with my new power tool.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm now the proud owner of a power tool</td></tr>
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I ended up catching a nice bass a few minutes later by dragging a t-rigged tube over some weeds and letting it drop down right at the edge. A big bass gobbled it up. Great idea <a href="http://foxriverfishing.net/">Sam</a>! Just like a frog but cheaper.<br />
<br />
A few minutes later Anthony walked down to the water. Although we'd never met, we had corresponded a great deal via the internets, so we already went way back, so to speak. He started fishing, I did my best impression of a fishing guide and told him what had and hadn't been working lately. I kept my tube tied on, missing a bunch of hits and catching a few fish.<br />
<br />
Anthony and I talked about our fishing background; how he grew up fishing, didn't fish for a long time, then recently picked it up in a serious way. We seem to have similar ideas about fishing- catching a little fish is still a fish; there's a big difference between catching one fish and zero fish but less between two and ten; we don't know why the fish choose to hit certain lures at certain times.<br />
<br />
I managed to catch a few bass while we were talking, but felt bad Anthony wasn't getting any fish. I was the guide after all. It was cool to have somebody else around to take pictures- most of my fish pictures are from an arm's distance away.<br />
<br />
After a few misses (the fish were biting really weirdly) he connected with his first CB's Secret Pond bass!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anthony and a nice bass</td></tr>
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It was a great time. The fish were certainly biting, although strangely. Most of my hits came from ignoring my lure for a minute while Anthony and I talked; then I'd have a bass on my line. No giant bulldozer hits, just a "gulp" and my line swam away. I suppose it is a cold front after all. I did, however, catch my second bass on my firetiger crankbait. I cast it out to the middle of the pond, let it sit for a few seconds; the bass inhaled it after two revolutions of cranking my reel.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another fish caught by a hand-carved lure</td></tr>
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We caught some more fish (I think I managed 6 bass total that outing on t-rigged plastics and my crankbait), talked about fishing, made a lot of casts; we each had some equipment issues, but it was a great time. Thanks for coming out Anthony! Next time I'll have to experience <i>your</i> secret pond.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/553783_10100904286978562_1508502787_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/553783_10100904286978562_1508502787_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anthony and another sweet bass</td></tr>
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<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-91521479722654993552012-06-25T07:21:00.000-05:002012-06-25T09:25:45.350-05:00Fishing in KalamazooThis weekend Claire and I were in Kalamazoo, Michigan helping my little sister move. Obviously I wanted to take the opportunity to do some fishing. I woke up at 5am EST (4am my time) on Sunday morning, headed to the nearest supplier of coffee (Starbucks wasn't open yet, McDonalds still did the trick) and made my way north to a small trout stream I'd read about on the Internet. I figured I could try for some stream trout for a while, then hit the Kalamazoo river since I'd be fishing very close to it.<br />
<br />
There was supposed to be a street going to the stream, a street where I could park and not have to traverse any private property. Turns out this street was a dirt road, and it was closed. I spent about twenty minutes trying to find a way to get to the stream. Finally I found another part of it, farther upstream from the Kalamazoo, but it was clearly private property. The stream was about ten feet wide, and it most certainly ran through a series of backyards.<br />
<br />
Well, I thought, I wouldn't be catching any trout this morning. I made yet another u-turn in the deserted country backroads and headed toward downtown Kalamazoo. Every now and then I'd stop and take a look at the map, trying to figure out some river access that wasn't private property. At one point I pulled into a seemingly abandoned industrial complex of some kind. There was river access, but it was behind very tall barbed wire fences.<br />
<br />
I drove to a city park on the river, and when I got there I realized I'd actually fished there before. Last year, I happened to be in town and tried fishing from the bridge. Back then I didn't have a clue about river fishing (I still only have a clue, not much else) and was, as expected, skunked. This time I had waders, quickly made my way into the water.<br />
<br />
A few years ago there was a major oil spill on the Kalamazoo, but cleaning efforts have been mostly concluded, except for a few stretches. There was no sign of the oil spill where I was; the river looked like a normal river. A lot more urban than I expected; reminded me of the Desplaines River in Chicago with its high banks that made me think of erosion. I was surprised by the depth and sandy bottom of the river. I was also surprised by the lack of current breaks in the form of rocks; there were some downed trees, and there was a bridge, and that was it. No boulders, at least as far as I could see.<br />
<br />
I got some hits, then pulled out a monstrous 9" rock bass on a tube that immediately self-released from my hands. It was good to catch a fish- there's always a lot of (self-inflicted) pressure to catch at least one fish. After that I can relax a little.<br />
<br />
Casting everywhere, I decided that if I were a smallmouth bass, I'd probably prefer an area with a rocky bottom and more current. The only place that existed was around the bridge, so I headed in that direction. I worked the downstream sides of the columns but no takers. Under the bridge there was a little riffle, and when I cast to it I was rewarded with my first Kalamazoo River smallie.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/532726_10100901550457572_850172338_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/532726_10100901550457572_850172338_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty fish</td></tr>
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Not a trophy, but a good solid fish with nice colors. I worked that area for another half hour, and when I decided to leave and find another spot, at least 10 tube jigs stayed behind, attached to various underwater obstructions. I couldn't retrieve them when I went to check out the spot, but I did notice a bunch of boulders; it appeared the smallies were hiding behind them. I also found a submerged stereo. I wondered if there were times fish gathered behind it, using it to hide from the current.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the "wet" knob on the reverb must have been turned up all the way (music nerd joke)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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I got into my car and brought up Maps on my phone. I wanted to find a place with more current breaks, more variation in water depth. The river was mostly straight near me, but there was one big curve in the river. I know from the internet and some experience that in river bends the inside bend will be shallow, the outside deeper. I also have seen that bends like that tend to deposit trees and other current breaks as the current changes, providing more places for fish to hide. I headed to the curve.<br />
<br />
It took me a while to figure out where to legally park and how to get down to the water. On one attempt I stumbled upon some homeless people living in a tent under a bridge. I suppose they could have been camping, but it looked like they'd been there for weeks. I wondered what I would do if I suddenly didn't have a place to live; permanently camping by a river seemed like a perfectly reasonable solution. I wondered if they would ask for some fish if I caught any, and if I should give them any. I decided I probably would give them some, even though the water quality wasn't the best. A contaminated fish might be better than no food at all.<br />
<br />
After some major bushwacking through a solid wall of foliage, I stumbled down into the river and saw exactly what I was looking for. Lots of rocks, boulders, downed trees, bridge columns, deep water, shallow water; Maybe it was luck or maybe it was me, but either way I found a great spot. My good choice was confirmed as a good choice when I caught another smallie hanging out in a bunch of riffles.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/270817_10100901553017442_1496479898_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/270817_10100901553017442_1496479898_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kzoo river smallie #2</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I lost some more tubes, got a few hits, and really enjoyed the experience. I was fishing in downtown Kalamazoo, a half mile from the Union where I'd played more than a hundred gigs... But I'd never seen this spot, nor had I fished it. I wonder what other hidden jewels I miss as I drive over bridges.<br />
<br />
I was almost out of tubes, so I thought I'd try another approach. I definitely use tubes and jigs too much for smallies; I've never caught one on anything else. I pulled out a gold and red spinner I made (with a paperclip for the wire shaft) and clipped it to my line. When I was testing its action in the water not two feet away from me, I saw and felt fish come up and nip at it! Awesome! I'd been standing still for a few minutes, and it appeared fish were using me as a current break. I had heard of that happening, but never experienced it myself.<br />
<br />
So I cast out my spinner, downstream into the current break I was creating, and sure enough connected with a fish. Another rock bass. My first river fish on a homemade spinner! I made it extra heavy to dive deeper in heavy current. This seemed to be the perfect place to use it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/246595_10100901557378702_1517195693_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/246595_10100901557378702_1517195693_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I made that spinner! First fish caught in my own wake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It took about 5 minutes to remove the treble hooks, but after a few minutes holding the fish in the slack water behind me, he came to and swam away just fine. As I was doing so some guys came upstream in a boat, giving me dirty looks. I wondered if I was in "their" spot. I asked them how they were doing, but they didn't seem interested in talking to me.<br />
<br />
I caught another rock bass behind me, but couldn't coax anymore smallies. Nobody asked me for fish, nor did I see anybody in the tent. Maybe they were still asleep; it was early after all.<br />
<br />
When the time came I made the reverse bushwhacking trip through the thick trees; it seemed clear to me not too many people fished this spot. At least not wading. I wondered if wading in the Kzoo was a bad idea after the oil spill; but I didn't see even the slightest indication of any topwater oil slicks or contaminated rocks or plants. I know that doesn't always mean it's clean, but I felt fairly protected by my waders. Except for the small leak they seem to have developed. I guess I'll find out...<br />
<br />
Although I didn't do any trout fishing like I'd hoped, it was a good outing with some nice fish. 2 smallies, 3 rock bass. One of those guys was a GIANT! Not the best trip, but certainly not the worst. It's very encouraging to know that, at least in some circumstances, I can explore a new body of water and successfully find fish.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-72329330813337636532012-06-22T17:15:00.000-05:002012-06-22T17:15:00.567-05:00CB Goes FlatheadingWe got to the river's edge, armed with two rods, two chairs, bait, and some beers. It was around sunset. Sam and I walked into the river, looking more like we were going to a barbeque than going fishing. Opening our camp chairs up and setting them down in the gravel, we were glad the river was so low. About an inch clearance between our butts and the water.<br />
<br />
Put a green sunfish on each hook and Sam showed me the casting technique for getting the bait where you want it without it flying off the hook. Once our bait was swimming around in the water, we sat down, cracked open some beers, and got down to business. Waiting for the fish.<br />
<br />
I can only imagine what we looked like from shore, or from the bridge above us; two dudes relaxing in some foldout chairs who must have mistaken the river for the tailgate party parking lot. The water flowed around our ankles as we held the long white catfish rods in one hand and a beer in the other.<br />
<br />
It didn't seem long at all before I felt something at the end of my line. This wasn't the greenie swimming around, this was a definite hit from something... A few seconds later my rod tip started to bend toward the horizontal, toward the fish that had taken my bait. I stood up, Sam stood up, and I prepared to set the hook... Just like I'd seen Jeremy Wade do so many times before when a giant catfish had taken his bait, just like Sam told me to do. When my rod was parallel to the water, I quickly cranked the reel and pulled up on the rod, setting the hook into the beast.<br />
<br />
It knew immediately, and with the full force of every pound of its muscular body, it fought. Suddenly, it changed direction, coming directly toward us. Standing in water up to my ankles, I wondered if the fish was coming to ram me. Teach me a lesson. Get me off its property. Out of its territory.<br />
<br />
Once it saw us, with a burst of energy its tail shot out of the water, slapping down, propelling its streamlined body away. Sam tried to grab the lip, but the fish had other ideas. After another short run, and a few tries, Sam grabbed the line and lipped the fish. He pulled out a beautiful creature, built like a tank and painted in camouflage: my first flathead catfish.<br />
<br />
I tried to stiffle my giggling; after all, Sam is a serious river fisherman and this was a serious fish. No place for giggles, this was hardcore. Flatheads aren't messing around, they know what's up.<br />
<br />
Sam grabbed some pliers and worked on removing the hook from the flathead's bony lip- I stood there like a little kid catching his first panfish, holding the rod, not sure what to do next, but excited.<br />
<br />
Suddenly the catfish made its characteristic roll, getting free from Sam's grip and splashing back into the water. For a moment it just sat there, but when Sam reached down to grab it, it swam away like a torpedo. I watched the whole thing, standing motionless, in awe of the animal I had just seen.<br />
<br />
He guessed it had been 23/24", an average specimen for the river. Average!? That was a BIG fish, wider, heavier, and longer than 99% of all the fish I catch. It could literally eat any of the 17 green sunfish I caught earlier in the day. It <i>did</i>, in fact, eat a green sunfish I caught earlier in the day.<br />
<br />
I congratulated Sam on putting me on fish, he congratulated me on my first flathead, and we quickly re-hooked, re-baited, and re-cast the line. It was <i>on</i>.<br />
<br />
I tried to focus, but was too excited by what had just transpired. The one that got away, but we certainly got a good look at it. We drank some more beers, utterred some more words of congratulations, and then 14 minutes later another THUMP on my line. A few seconds of nothing. Then another THUMP and my line took off.<br />
<br />
My drag squeeled as the second monster of the night took off downstream; even in the dark we could see epic splashes coming out of the water. I gripped the rod as hard as I could, the powerful fish- definitely bigger than the first- using every ounce of its muscle to take my line and get away.<br />
<br />
Then my line went slack, and I realized the fish was coming toward me. <i>Ramming speed! Man your battle stations!</i><br />
<br />
I adjusted my stance in the water to something I imagine baseball players doing before they get a pitch. A giant rock-colored fish-shaped pitch. I don't know much about baseball.<br />
<br />
I quickly reeled in my line, trying to keep the tension on the aquatic rocket that was barreling toward me, against the current, perhaps aiming right for my knees where it could knock me down in the water. I realized my iphone was in my pocket and wondered why I hadn't brought a waterproof container for it.<br />
<br />
And then the flathead saw us, and took off downstream once again. Every second I thought it was going to rip the rod right out of my hands, but somehow I managed to hold on for dear life. Every chance I got, I reeled in the slack line, keeping the pressure on my adversary.<br />
<br />
Not so much adversary, more like sparring partner. To me "adversary" implies a lack of respect or contempt for the opponent; I have a huge amount of respect for this amazing fish, and certainly didn't want to hurt it. I simply wanted to spar a little, get our picture together, and put it on its merry way.<br />
<br />
I got it close enough (read: the flathead decided to come closer to us) and Sam grabbed it. After a quick grab of the pliers, he held the most badass fish I've ever caught. We checked for tags and clipped adipose fins- the DNR in conjunction with the <a href="http://www.foxvalleyflatheaders.com/">Fox Valley Flatheaders</a> is doing a study of flathead catfish in the river- we got out the tape measure and it came in at 27". Not my <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2012/05/cb-goes-camping-and-catches-mississippi.html">longest or biggest fish</a>, but without question the heaviest and beefiest, and certainly the most badass. This time Sam got a picture for me. (<a href="http://foxriverfishing.net/notebook/fox-river-flatheading-its">Sam also did a write up about the adventure on FoxRiverFishing.net</a>)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/599070_10100898546996532_1389375165_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/599070_10100898546996532_1389375165_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a fish. 27" Fox River flathead catfish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I held the muscular fish, admiring it's beautiful patterns. Up close it looked to me a lot like brown trout skin, although not quite as colorful. Just as striking though. A dark brown background with little black spots of varying sizes. I can only imagine how terrified a little sunfish would be if the rocks underneath him suddenly floated up, revealing a veritable river monster.<br />
<br />
We released the fish, and what a fish it was. Once in the water, it didn't swim away. It calmly parked itself between Sam's feet in the water, as if to challenge us to a rematch. After a few moments, it swam away, probably giving us the finger.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/251797_10100899039135282_1272609136_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/251797_10100899039135282_1272609136_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to Sam for landing<br />and documenting this awesome fish<br />with some pictures</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We didn't catch anymore flatheads, although Sam had a few hits and misses throughout the night. Waiting for the fish to bite we spent some time tag-team-hunting the bullfrogs that seemed to be everywhere. We both caught some, but we figured they were to scrawny to keep. For a moment we considered using one as flathead bait, as our supply was running low, but then reconsidered. Maybe next time.<br />
<br />
We watched a wake circle the area in front of us that was almost certainly a flathead patrolling its spawning grounds. It was a big, calmly swimming fish near the surface, slowly cruising the waters in front of us. There were carp and some bass jumping, but this was a different kind of wake. A big badass of a fish looking for a meal, looking for a mate, or both. Maybe looking to pick a fight with us, sitting in camp chairs on the edge of its territory.<br />
<br />
After we ran out of bait, we packed it up and waded to shore in the dark. Our butts soaking wet, beers empty, and big grins across both our faces, we headed down the dark path that lead to my car. An awesome experience to be sure; and an experience it was. A different, slower-paced style of fishing than I'm used to, but with a big payoff in the form of a giant apex predator. I can't help but respect this tank of a fish, the flathead catfish. If we ever met face to face I'm sure it would kick my ass.<br />
<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-89025245583953454452012-06-21T17:20:00.000-05:002012-06-21T17:20:00.215-05:00Lunchtime greenies<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/538317_10100897510842992_1627438792_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/538317_10100897510842992_1627438792_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spoiler alert: I caught a big green sunfish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There are so many bodies of water. Seriously, go to google maps and check out where you live. All those little blue areas- there are almost certainly fish in <i>all </i>of them! At least that's how I feel lately, having discovered some exciting fishing in Salt Creek. I've been wondering what other bodies of water right under my nose are teeming with fish...<br />
<br />
Today during lunch I strolled down the street to a tiny pond not even a quarter mile away. Last night on a walk with Walter I noticed a distinct lack of "NO FISHING" signs. There were only "DO NOT MOW! NATIVE GRASSES!" signs. Not sure exactly what that means, but it sounds like something I approve of. I am not a fan of the ridiculously manicured suburban lawns that surround me (including my own, which is maintained by the neighborhood association). Why not keep the native plants around? They are nice looking and perfectly at home in this climate. I bet they also give local wildlife a lot better homes than bushes trimmed into cubes and spheres. But I digress.<br />
<br />
I wasn't expecting much from this pond- it's about the size of a basketball court, probably smaller. I don't really know anything about basketball or the size of courts it's played on. I casually walked up to the pond, tossed out a texas-rigged white twister tail, and let it sink.<br />
<br />
Immediately I had a fish on. No setting of the hook needed. It hit the lure like a missile.<br />
<br />
The next four or five casts were the same way. Every cast a fish. Small but incredibly aggressive fish. Awesome! A few casts went without a fish retrieved, and then I felt a giant tug on the line. Could it be a bass? It felt a lot bigger than the others.<br />
<br />
I reeled in the biggest green sunfish I'd ever seen. It was a monster! Probably 9" long, maybe longer, and a mouth like a largemouth bass. This dude was considerably larger than every other fish I'd caught so far. A veritable giant. I've caught plenty of smallies around that size; in my book, quite a catch. Especially from a tiny shallow pond down the street.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/481161_10100897471980872_1931814043_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/481161_10100897471980872_1931814043_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">9"+ green sunfish, my personal best for that species</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In the next 35 minutes I caught a total of 17 green sunfish. I switched to a green t-rigged worm and continued to catch them, although not as many. I caught all sizes from the 9" monster to a little guy who inhaled the whole worm.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/600953_10100897508063562_1736219091_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/600953_10100897508063562_1736219091_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Over-achiever (the worm is longer than he is)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After the 17th fish, which is more fish than I've <i>ever</i> caught in a single outing as far as I can remember, I made the 2 minute walk back to my house to eat some lunch and go back to work.Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-3229037567821076082012-06-21T07:38:00.000-05:002012-06-21T16:36:57.724-05:00Evening wade on a lovely little river<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/550458_10100896947786362_445221210_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/550458_10100896947786362_445221210_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near Salt Creek, 9pm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm a little obsessed with Salt Creek.<br />
<br />
After my <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2012/06/green-sunfish-and-creek-monster.html">awesome wade Monday night</a>, catching 11 green sunfish and catching a glimpse of a BIG fish, all I can think about is what lurks beneath the surface of that little unassuming creek. Until Monday, I assumed it was too polluted to support anything besides green sunfish and carp, at least in the section closest to me. Turns out, I was wrong!<br />
<br />
I waded twice yesterday- a very short trip at lunch, and a longer trip right around sunset. At lunch I didn't catch anything, but got some hits from something and follows from a little largemouth bass. I saw tons of baitfish swimming around, little brown minnows all over the place.<br />
<br />
Somewhere I read Salt Creek should actually be called a river, but for some reason the creek name stuck... I also read the original inhabitants of the area called it the Lovely Little River.<br />
<br />
Although it's moving water, and in many ways just a smaller Fox or Rogue river, there are a few strange things that make it different. It's clearly not the healthiest river; for long stretches it's bordered on both sides by industry and overly-fertilized residential land. I don't know much about ecology or hydrology, but the Salt certainly has a different character than other rivers I've fished. There is a distinct lack of boulders and current breaks, although I could be missing seeing them due to the low water levels.<br />
<br />
Probably the strangest thing is the weird step-like dropoffs from the shore to the main channel. Instead of tapering down nicely, there are steps that lead down to the deepest sections. That means if I'm not paying attention, I might walk off one of those ledges and drop a foot into a deeper section. That almost happened last night and it scared the $%#& out of me! I wonder if it's related to erosion or some human-influenced characteristic.<br />
<br />
I explored a new section last night, and was rewarded with some very fishy spots. A short wade upstream brought me to an awesome looking area with a downed tree blocking off the majority of the stream. The main current cut through a five foot hole close to shore, then created one of the few current seams I've seen on the Salt. On the shore side, there were little eddies in about a foot of water- I bet that will be a sweet spot in higher water. The downstream side of the tree is much deeper water, and absolutely a spot that holds fish. There were some branches in the water, near some very tall undercut banks, all of which was underneath a bunch of low hanging trees. As I waded toward it I saw at least three fish porpoise, one jumped clear out of the water. It was big, although it could have been anything. In the dim dusk light I couldn't make it out.<br />
<br />
I waded quickly, hoping to explore as much as possible before all the daylight went away. I'd like to say I threw my little white spinnerbait into all the best fish-holding spots, but in reality I just threw it everywhere. Some places I expected to find fish I didn't, and where I didn't I got hits.<br />
<br />
When I finally connected with a fish- on my new light rod- I was ecstatic. I wondered if there was a little pike on the end of my line, my first pike ever. Turns out it was a little largemouth- a moving water largemouth, a fish I don't know well. This one fought like a little monster, like a smallie. All muscle, all spunk. I didn't mind that it was small, it was a great fish to me, caught so close to home in this seemingly hidden spot.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/208843_10100896948270392_348296725_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/208843_10100896948270392_348296725_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another Salt Creek bass</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
A little farther upstream I got another one. This was awesome! If I pretended I didn't hear the the car traffic noise from a quarter mile away, and I blocked out the sounds of low-flying aircraft going to O'Hare, I might as well have been a hundred miles away in the wilderness. Wading, catching fish as the sun went down.</div>
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My spinner got hung up, and somehow I didn't have any more safety-pin style spinners with me. I tied on one of my homemade inline spinners, then a beetle spin, then just a straight up jig'n'twister. Although I didn't connect with any more fish, the wade was great.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The local wildlife was everywhere. I saw a big raccoon waddle away from me; I tried to pass quickly so it could go about its business. When I came around a bend in the river, two deer were standing in the river a stone's throw from me. They noticed me and casually trotted away. When it was almost dark, I noticed a tall figure in the middle of the river upstream from me. I squinted and realized it was a heron, or some kind of bird just like a heron. I was standing chest-deep in water, and this bird was towering over me (albiet far away). It must have been five feet tall.</div>
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I watched it, both of us standing motionless, until all of the sudden it flew away.</div>
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In one stretch with a muddy bottom, I spooked what I think was a carp in 6" of water. I thought about how great it would be to hook into a carp in this stream.</div>
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Eventually it was time to head in, as the use of my headlamp was necessary to see. I thought about the coyotes I'd heard coming from this particular area a few nights back, and decided to call it a night. After a slightly tense walk through very tall grass, I made it to a path and headed back to my car. But I'd be back to find out what else this little river holds.</div>
<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-24857799350753862522012-06-20T07:45:00.000-05:002012-06-20T09:05:48.524-05:00Windy Fishing<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/246452_10100895551250032_1937444531_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/246452_10100895551250032_1937444531_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The yak- fully loaded<br />with 3 rod-holders, depth finder, PFD, and tons of gear</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After an intense day at work, I decided to get the kayak out and hit some water. Who am I joking; my day at work had nothing to do with it, I just wanted to go kayaking! I was originally going to go on Monday, but 30 mph had me thinking otherwise. <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2012/06/green-sunfish-and-creek-monster.html">Glad I hit the Salt instead; that fish I saw for a split second</a> has been fueling fish fantasies about that little body of water...<br />
<br />
It was still windy last night, but for whatever reason I went anyway.<br />
<br />
Got to Mallard, parked the car, unloaded the kayak; Mallard is a bit strange in that they allow boating, but it's a "carry-in" only lake. Meaning if you want to boat there, you've got to get the Dupage county boat license and you've got to carry your boat to the water.<br />
<br />
That's part of why I love kayaking- it's a boat, it will get you around any lake just fine, but it's light and human-powered. I can launch from anywhere, paddle in 6" of water, and leave no gas fumes or anything else in my wake. I must say, however, carrying the kayak on one shoulder and carrying my depth finder*, rod holders, water bottle, ropes, and other stuff in my other hand is something of a workout. But take that with a grain of salt, since I'm a guy who doesn't exactly "work out."<br />
<br />
<i>* My buddy Sam reminded me that it's not a "fish finder" but a depth finder. It doesn't find fish for you. Agreed!</i><br />
<br />
Where I launched I saw tons of little bluegill in the water. I thought that might be a good sign. Once I pushed off into the lake, I realized it was going to be one of <i>those</i> outings. The wind, ferociously wipping past my ears in a deafening roar, quickly pushed me to the opposite shore. To say there was a chop on the water would be a huge understatement. It was more like 1' waves crashing into my boat. I kept thinking "I want to kayak on Lake Michigan, I better get used to it." I've never gotten so wet from waves alone! It was incredibly intense.<br />
<br />
I paddled around, struggling against the wind; when I paddled directly into the wind I felt like I was dragging the lake bottom behind me, my arms burned and my midsection worked to give me torque. I had no idea how to fish a situation like this. Where would the fish go when it was this crazy at the surface?<br />
<br />
I tried jigging some jigs and spinners, throwing some deep-diving crankbaits; I even busted out my 3/4oz casting spoon I assembled the other day, complete with a treble hook hand-dressed with bucktail. It cast like a bullet, sank quickly, but did not entice any fish.<br />
<br />
Exploring the lake, fighting the wind, I was doing a lot of corrective paddling and not a lot of fishing. Eventually I found a spot near a quick dropoff- 4' to 25' over the course of about 20'- where I could "park" my kayak in the bullrushes and cast into the dropoff. All I caught were weeds, although I was convinced there would be fish there.<br />
<br />I saw some interesting structure on the bottom of the lake, in the middle of a 30' deep hole- it looked like a big tree trunk laying at a 45° angle. My depth finder told me there were tons of fish around it. My lures dropped down as close to the spot as I could manage told me otherwise.<br />
<br />
The wind was relentless. Just when I found a good spot, I'd cast, and in a matter of moments I found myself fifty feet downwind. What calm areas I found seemed to be devoid of life, although they gave me a respite from the intense paddling.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/182846_10100895550616302_65086111_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/182846_10100895550616302_65086111_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mallard is quite a pretty lake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Finally I decided to head to shore, maybe do some shore fishing, give my arms a break. I saw a bunch of guys fishing, throwing giant crankbaits and topwaters, doing figure-8's in the water. Fishing for pike? Musky? <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2012/06/green-sunfish-and-creek-monster.html">Maybe they should fish Salt Creek</a>...<br />
<br />
I beached the kayak and threw out a bobber while I cast with some cranks and spoons. I'm liking this spoon thing. It casts super far, even into the wind, and wobbles like nobody's business. I could have sworn I got a few follows retrieving it quickly just a few inches under the surface, but didn't connect with anything.<br />
<br />
Once it got dark, a big bullfrog hopped on the shore just a few feet from me. Eager to learn more about these animals- in case I do actually go hunting for frogs- I struggled to find my headlamp in my bag. Spinner hooks and stray jigs dug into my hand; I stifled my sighs of pain so I wouldn't startle the frog.<br />
<br />
I put the headlamp on my head, turned it on, and shined it directly on the bullfrog.<br />
<br />
It froze; as I approached, it made no sign of moving. I slowly reached down and grabbed it- it was in my hand! It made no struggle, it was simply frozen.<br />
<br />
As soon as I shined the light somewhere else, it jumped away with it's powerful legs into the water. To test this whole "frogs freeze when you shine light on them" thing, I shined it again. Again it froze, again I picked it up. Then I set him (her?) down on the shore, still shining the light, and it didn't move at all. As soon as the light went elsewhere, the giant bullfrog scampered away. Interesting!<br />
<br />
The sun set, and I continued fishing.. for fish. Some bass took a few swipes at a Heddon torpedo, and while it was nice to get some action, it would have been nicer to get a fish or two. But it didn't matter too much- it was a pretty but windy evening, had a little adventure, and caught a bullfrog with my bare hands. Not bad for a Tuesday!Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-66989417468201809562012-06-19T07:00:00.000-05:002012-06-19T07:00:12.811-05:00Green sunfish and the creek monster<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/389706_10100893673358342_723699804_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/389706_10100893673358342_723699804_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the water</td></tr>
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Early this morning I headed out to the local pond, which is the answer to my fishing fix when I don't plan ahead. The pond is there, it's full of fish, I usually do pretty well there. For a while the bass seemed turned off, and now they are back biting at everything. Could that be the "post-spawn funk" I've been hearing about?<br />
<br />
Last week my lovely wife suggested we get another fishing rod. Well ok, sounds like a plan to me. We went to the big store and looked through all the rods until I found what I was looking for. I should clarify that, because I have no idea what I was looking for. I was hoping for a very light rod that I could use for a variety of fishing situations- pond bass, panfish, maybe even smallies. I normally fish with medium rods, but I wanted to try catching big pond bass on a light rod.<br />
<br />
Turns out, it's a hell a good time. (Did I say that right? Should I say "hella" instead?) This morning I missed 2 and landed 3 on my new 5'6" light action (action? weight? not sure) rod. Each fish felt like a river monster. It was awesome. 1 came on a texas-rigged tube (thanks for the idea Sam) and the others on a plain old t-rigged worm. Brown. They attacked the $%^# out of that brown worm.<br />
<br />
Later in the day I headed out to good old Salt Creek. It's a fairly polluted body of water, as I understand it; but I've caught a fair number of small fish there before. <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2011/08/chris-beckstrom-suburban-kayak.html">Even kayaked there once</a>. I stopped by for literally 10 minutes and caught 4 green sunfish and two bass. They were small, but I really enjoyed catching them. I tried throwing some new little spoons I assembled, but they only followed and wouldn't strike. The white jig and twister, which is quickly becoming my go-to lure, took them all.<br />
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<br />
For 10 minutes in the middle of the day, I'll take it. The bass hit like tanks; they didn't know how small they were.<br />
<br />
This evening I had been planning on kayaking Mallard Lake, now that I've got the Dupage county license to do so... But with 15 mph with gusts up to 30, I knew it would mean a frustrating outing. At the last minute I changed my mind and decided to wade Salt Creek.<br />
<br />
I've never heard of anybody targeting green sunfish- not for bait- but that was exactly my plan. I wanted to go wading on a Monday night, 5 minutes from my house, and catch a bunch of fish. Beside the gale-force wind, it was a perfectly fantastic outing.<br />
<br />
Perhaps you might think it's silly to wade in a tiny creek only home to tiny fish; or a waste of time... But just like the local pond is a smaller version of a lake, the creek is a scaled-down version of a river. All the same rules apply. There are still riffles, pools; seams, undercut banks... It's just all in miniature. The water was surprisingly clear, so as I fished I could not only view all the structure in the river, but I could see where my fish came from. Learning to fish a little creek will help me understand bigger moving water, just like learning to pond fish pays off in larger lakes.<br />
<br />
It was incredibly informative. I learned that, in Salt Creek this evening, green sunfish prefer to be in the shade, under trees if possible, and in whatever deeper water is available. In any given stretch, I took a long hard look, and made a guess cast to where the fish would choose to be. Most of the time I was right, which was a prize in itself! And then there was this feisty, underrated, and very pretty little fish that I kept catching.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/165935_10100893670648772_892578579_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/165935_10100893670648772_892578579_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greeny</td></tr>
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I was having a great time. I explored the creek, slowly wading downstream; I saw a raccoon crawl down almost into the water and disappear into a hole in the bank. I saw a muskrat waddling along, oblivious to my presence. I noticed tons of little baitfish hanging out in the miniature eddies that appeared occasionally. It seemed like the creek didn't have too many places for fish to be; no big boulders, not too much downed timber, no obvious fish-holding spots. I wonder if the channelization of the original stream caused those things to disappear.<br />
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<br />
Call me silly, but I was perfectly happy to catch these little fish. I was catching more fish in this outing than any of the 113 previous outings this year. It was great.<br />
<br />
And then, after hooking into a little greenie in the shadow of an undercut bank, I saw a long green shape suddenly lunge out from the darkness and take a swipe at my hooked fish.<br />
<br />
And then it was gone.<br />
<br />
I froze, forgetting I had a fish on my line, and questioned the reality of what I just saw. It looked a little like a bass, but was much longer. I saw a flash of scales that appeared green through the water. But so did most things when viewed through this water... I estimated it's length at three feet, but it could have been less. I quickly ran down the list of possible species... I concluded it was either a bass- a BIG bass, a pike, or a musky.<br />
<br />
It was a BIG fish. It dwarfed my 5" green sunfish. I know musky or even pike may sound ridiculous to you reading this, an account of fishing in a little polluted creek... But Busse Lake flows into Salt Creek, and they stocked musky at Busse. There's even a picture on the internet somewhere of a guy holding a Salt Creek musky. So it's not <i>completely</i> out of the question.<br />
<br />
But even if it <i>were</i> a bass, it was certainly a very big fish. And for the water it was in, practically a trophy-sized fish.<br />
<br />
Obviously I fished that spot for about an hour after the sighting.<br />
<br />
I threw everything- I got some follows on my new little spoon, but I think it was just little greenies. I used a green sunfish as bait, which seemed like a great idea considering that's what triggered the attack in the first place.... But I never saw that large flash of scales again. Eventually, as the sun began to set, I decided to call it a day. As I waded upstream, it occurred to me how much more difficult it was than wading downstream. My thighs and calves burned. The wind tore through my ears and threatened to blow my hat off. I caught some more fish, and it was ok. I ended up catching 11 green sunfish, which is 1 more than my record this year of number of fish in one outing.<br />
<br />
The idea of that giant fish swimming so close to my house will keep me up at night; I'll have dreams of catching <i>whatever it was</i> the next time I go down there. It's amazing, you just don't know what's in the water... until you catch it.<br />
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<i>EDIT: Writing this now, after the fact, I suddenly remember I noticed that fish in the picture looked like it's pelvic fins were bitten off. Maybe there is some other reason it's missing fins, but for now I'm just going to assume they were taken by the giant aquatic creature I caught a glimpse of.</i>Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-44758480152074079372012-06-18T07:46:00.000-05:002012-06-18T09:07:25.778-05:00Chris & Claire go fishingI think I have time to get out a quick post...<br />
<br />
Lately my time has been spent making lures, fishing, and working on my upcoming dub album. <a href="http://chrisbeckstrom.tumblr.com/tagged/dub+album">If you want to hear a few of the tracks, head on over to my tumblr.</a> Once I'm done with all the tracks, I'll post the whole thing on <a href="http://music.chrisbeckstrom.com/">music.chrisbeckstrom.com</a> where you can stream it and download it for free. I'm pretty excited about it- I've been working on it for quite some time, and got some of my buddies to play on it, and they are awesome.<br />
<br />
Most of last week I worked outside- my new job is remote, meaning I can pretty much work anywhere there's an internet connection. I work from home, so I've been taking advantage of the patio. Walter loves it, because he gets to hang out with me outside all day. Here's my "office" as of late:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/545304_10100883865393582_1863405178_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/545304_10100883865393582_1863405178_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Please, step into my office. Watch out for the grill"</td></tr>
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It's an amazing thing to head out of the "office" over to the grill for my lunch hour to enjoy some delicious grilled meat.<br />
<br />
I've been turning out an average of a lure a day, some days three. My carving, sanding, painting, and hardware-adding is getting better and more predictable. I start with 2x4s, cut out the shapes I want, carve them with a little hobby knife, sand them down (sometimes not so well), paint with spray paint, acrylic, and nail polish, and add hardware. Recently I've made a few emulating some vintage lures I've seen- the whole white body red head thing is pretty awesome.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/403502_10100886423971172_1726886249_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/403502_10100886423971172_1726886249_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Topwater torpedo-style lure</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/285705_10100888511657432_1009720369_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/285705_10100888511657432_1009720369_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one started as a jitterbug clone, but I added a tail<br />and two propellors for good measure<br />I'm calling it mousie</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/554627_10100889045312982_1103574826_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/554627_10100889045312982_1103574826_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">..and this one looks pretty nice, but<br />is a complete failure in the water...<br />back to the drawing board</td></tr>
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This weekend Claire and I did a lot of fishing together. We went to Blackwell Forest Preserve (Silver Lake) for the first time, and really liked it. Very pretty, big hills, awesome. We fished along the shore, then somehow we decided we should keep on walking and continue around the whole shore. Halfway through we realized what a huge distance it was and how we would have to scale an almost vertical path into the woods if we wanted to continue... We turned around and retraced our steps back to the boat launch.<br />
<br />
There was a goose standing in the road like a moron, and when a car came up to it the driver honked profusely and yelled "Get off the road a$$&*#!" without a hint of sarcasm.<br />
<br />
We went to check out a dog park, and noticed it was very close to the Dupage river. We decided to go and check it out, as neither one of us had ever been to that particular body of water. My first time wet-wading (wading without waders) and I loved it. The cool water was a welcome respite from the 95°F air.<br />
<br />
The water was only about a foot deep, and looking at the stretch I guessed if there were fish, they would be hanging out under the bridge where it might be a little deeper and shaded. Turns out I was right! Claire and I fished some brush piles, rocks, and the bridge itself for about an hour. My wife, as I found out, is quite an angler. She caught her first smallie right there under the bridge- and then proceeded to catch 6 more! (Maybe it was 5, don't remember.. I was trying so hard to catch my own smallies, unsuccessfully, I was distracted.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://distilleryimage8.instagram.com/c1e484c2b8f811e18bb812313804a181_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://distilleryimage8.instagram.com/c1e484c2b8f811e18bb812313804a181_7.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nice smallie for a kick-ass wife</td></tr>
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I managed to catch 4-5 green sunfish. Claire had the magical touch; she kept pulling out smallie after smallie while I struggled to entice a handful of 3" green sunfish. It was awesome- the water was incredibly clear; even in the dark under the bridge, we could make out every pebble of gravel on the bottom. I saw some crawfish scurry away, which was perhaps another reason the fish were there. Although I didn't do so well in terms of fish caught, it was some of the best fishing ever. Great weather, great company, just super great all around.<br />
<br />
The next day, in an effort to avenge my dismal numbers (and explore the lake more fully) we headed back to Silver Lake with our kayaks. After about half an hour of waiting in line, waiting for somebody to come break our $50 bills, and $70 later we had Dupage county boat licenses and were ready to launch.<br />
<br />
Almost immediately I got a little largemouth bass on a twister tail; he was hanging out with some bluegill under the shade of some trees in very shallow water. I wondered if he was eating bluegill eggs/fry.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/303470_10100892374176912_705596154_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/303470_10100892374176912_705596154_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby bass</td></tr>
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The water was ridiculously clear; we could see very far down into the water. I wondered if that has to do with the lake's beginning as a quarry, or the types of weeds in it, or lack of mud, or what. Earlier in the day I installed a third rod-holder in my kayak, as well as a strap to hold my new fish finder. It was great- paddling around, armed to the teeth with fishing gear, seeing fish hanging out on all the dropoffs- just where I thought they would be.<br />
<br />
Couldn't catch any more though; Claire on the other hand was slay'in'em, catching her first two crappies (and first fish in the kayak too!)<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://distilleryimage11.instagram.com/9dc80842b8f911e181bd12313817987b_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://distilleryimage11.instagram.com/9dc80842b8f911e181bd12313817987b_7.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claire's serious angler pose</td></tr>
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We're both super impressed with Silver Lake and the whole preserve. It's a bit of a hike for us, but it's worth it. There seem to be a fair amount of fish in it, even if we couldn't catch too many of them. The shockingly clear water is a revelation to me, I can't wait to go back. I know clear water doesn't necessarily equate to clean water, but I think I might come back and do some bluegill fishing. I've got a filet knife that's never seen a fish, and would like to change that sooner than later. Great times with the wife, awesome times exploring new waters.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-78131215506691952472012-06-11T13:14:00.000-05:002012-06-11T13:14:49.242-05:00CB Makes Coleslaw<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/229986_10100882413483222_1063084665_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/229986_10100882413483222_1063084665_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vinegar-y, peppery slaw</td></tr>
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<i>I have this thing about unnecessarily cooking things from scratch. Why make my own BBQ sauce when there are millions of great store-bought varieties? Why cook beans from scratch when opening a can takes a fraction of the time? Why in the world would I want to make my own coleslaw when I can just get it already prepared from any grocery store?</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>There are two reasons, at least for me. The first is the ability to prepare said food item exactly the way I want it- assuming I can make it at all. The second is the satisfaction of not only preparing it myself, but gaining a better idea how it's made. For a long time there were many dishes and sauces shrouded in mystery; there was no way I could ever figure out how to make them. Things like pasta sauce, bread, chilli, salad dressing... Once I tried to make these things, I realized it's not too hard to find out how.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>Turns out, there's the internet. And the internet knows a lot of stuff. All you have to do is weed out the bad stuff and take the good stuff!</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>I'm obsessed with barbeque (barbecue, barbacoa, whatever you want to call it... I prefer BBQ) for a bunch of reasons I'll probably mention later when I post the results of my Oven-Smoker Experiment. In my mind, the perfect accompaniment to a rich, savory and perhaps fatty piece of slow roasted meat is a sharp kick in the head in the form of something tangy, sour, and maybe even bitter. I love pickled cucumbers or jalapeños with my BBQ; I've made <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2011/08/cb-cooks-pickled-red-onions.html">pickled red onions to go with carnitas</a>... To top my hopefully delicious oven-smoked chopped bbq pork, I decided to try my hand at coleslaw.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>Growing up I remember having all different kinds of coleslaw often; at home, at potlucks, at foot ball games... My favorite kind was always the extra-tangy, extra-peppery, and not-so creamy kind. Turns out, I was able to create a pretty tangy and peppery coleslaw that wasn't too creamy for me. (I loosely based it on <a href="http://allrecipes.com/recipe/moms-coleslaw/">this recipe</a>.) If you make it yourself, feel free to vary the amounts to suit your own particular preferences. Pretty sure the Otts have a good recipe- might be a family secret though.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<b>WHAT YOU NEED</b><br />
<i>For the slaw:</i><br />
1 head of cabbage<br />2 carrots<br />
1/4 white onion (or red, yellow, whatever)<br />
<br />
<i>For the dressing:</i><br />
1 cup mayo<br />
1/2 cup apple cider vinegar<br />
Salt and pepper to taste (I used a LOT of black pepper)<br />
<br />
<b>HOW YOU MAKE IT</b><br />
<br />
1) Shred the cabbage <i>(I was amazed how much shredded cabbage comes from a single head.. and also how cheap cabbage was.. I think $.88 a head!)</i><br />
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2) Shred the carrots <i>(I used a veggie peeler to get carrot strips)</i><br />
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3) Slice the onion fine<br />
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4) Combine all the veggies in a big bowl<br />
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5) In a separate bowl, whisk/stir/whatever the mayo, vinegar, and any seasonings you'd like<br />
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6) Pour over veggies, stir well, taste for seasoning if desired<br />
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7) You can eat it immediately, but everything is a little too crispy at this point.. It's best if it sits in the fridge overnight. If there isn't a huge amount of dressing, it seems like a good idea to stir the slaw periodically.<br />
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<b>WHAT ELSE YOU COULD DO</b><br />
Because this recipe is so simple, you really could do pretty much anything else. Next time I might add some sliced radishes to the slaw; or use red onions instead of white; or add some thin poblano strips for a little bit of heat; I'm sure a little sour cream would make this very creamy, but I generally avoid creamy things. Except ice cream.<br />
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I will probably eat this alone (like I just did a second ago) or as a BBQ pork topping, or as a side dish to some other grilled piece of meat. As I type the vinegar and pepper still tingle in my mouth; I can't wait to see how this works with some slow cooked dry rubbed pork.<br />
<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-67167115779972929632012-06-08T07:39:00.003-05:002012-06-08T07:39:31.601-05:0099 Fishing TripsI go fishing a lot. Every trip used to be a huge adventure; setting foot into the outdoors was a major production because of my unfamiliarity of it. Going to Busse and exploring the Amazon had a lot more in common to me than improvising over the chord changes to Cherokee at 300 beats per minute. That I could do. Since then, I've spent a great deal of my time outside. Many weeks I'll go fishing every day, sometimes more than once per day. A lot of these trips are quick and to the point, without much adventure or story to relate... But I do want to record some of the highlights of the past week or two- the parts I haven't yet posted. Here goes...<br />
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Claire and I went fishing on Lake Pleasant in Michigan (near Hillsdale); I caught a bunch of little bass, and hooked into one on her "last cast" real close to shore, but it threw the hook.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walter and me on the way to Lake Pleasant</td></tr>
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My father in law let me tag along with him to his golf club- while he golfed, I caught 10 awesome largemouth bass out of some golf course ponds. My first time fishing a golf course (with permission or otherwise)! 9 of the bass came on a Heddon Torpedo I found floating at Busse a while back. It was amazing; a landscaper driving by on a riding lawnmower gave me a tip to use something that floats and makes a lot of noise to land fish there, he'd been fishing there for many years. I tied on the Torpedo, cast it out, and the bass took swipes at it. I didn't even have to move it much, once it landed on the water usually three or four bass would come investigate, eventually smashing into the lure like a ton of bricks.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one apparently swallowed a little animal...<br />Mouse? Muscrat? I'd never seen that before!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Probably the biggest of the day.. I don't usually put fish<br />on the ground, but this one fell. It was probably<br />a safer way to remove the treble hooks too</td></tr>
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I've been looking for new ponds to fish; my go-to retention pond is almost entirely filled with weeds and a thick floating scum. The fish are still there, and they're still biting, but sometimes I want to use a crankbait! I "discovered" a new, tiny pond next to an office building. Surprisingly, it doesn't say "No Fishing." I pulled some fairly big green sunfish out of there on my trusty jig and twister.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big ol' green sunfish- hit like a bass!</td></tr>
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I went night fishing the other day, hoping to catch <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2011/10/24-catfish-caught-on-topwater-and-nice.html">another one of the retention pond catfish</a>. Something possessed me to use hotdogs as bait. The internet says you can do that, so I did. After tremendous difficulty casting without tossed the hotdogs off the hook and into the water, I finally managed to get a line in the water with a hotdog on it. While that stewed I tossed out some topwaters for bass, which got hits every so often. Nobody connected though; it wasn't all bad, as I got to watch the almost-full moon rise and try out my new headlamp with a red LED. Pretty sweet. When I was packing up, around 12:15am, when I went to reel in my hotdog line there was something connected- something big! After a pretty awesome but short fight, I saw exactly what I hoped to see. A big old (channel?) cat.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">23" (channel) cat caught on hotdog!</td></tr>
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I recently started a new job; it's fast-paced and exciting, I'm really enjoying it, and because I'm working from home my commute is substantially shorter. For the most part, when I close up shop in the "office" I head out for some fishing. Much of it has been local, especially in the morning and at lunch. When I'm not fishing, I've been making lures. I think I'm getting the hang of it now; I've probably made 15-20 wooden lures now. Some of them work great, some are complete failures.. but I learn from each one and use that experience on the next.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My copycat of a Heddon Torpedo, made out of cedar<br />This one got a lot of hits at night at the pond</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glow-in-the-dark firetiger crank made of balsa</td></tr>
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That firetiger crankbait, which glows in the dark because I mixed green, yellow, and glow paint together, might be my most successful crank yet. I made a little video (and the music) of the lure in action.<br />
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And then yesterday morning, I caught a fish on it!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one dives medium deep and has a nice wobble. So far<br />one fish has taken a swipe at it</td></tr>
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Oh yeah, and I got a fish finder! It's a Hummingbird Piranhamax 160. So far I've taken it out twice, and I love it. It's great to find out what's beneath me. I took it on the yak to Busse, found some fish in some deep holes, but couldn't get them to connect. I also took it to a big local retention pond (not <b>the</b> retention pond) and discovered the whole pond is about 2-3 feet deep with a thick mud bottom.<br />
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Yesterday I hit the local pond with my new fly rod for about 10 minutes and saw tons of little bluegill hanging out in very shallow water. I caught about 5 or 6 of them in rapid succession; one I didn't even know I hooked and ended up back-casting it 20 feet away from the pond! It seemed fine when it swam away.<br />
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Last night I kayaked the big retention pond; didn't catch any fish but I did catch two bullfrogs mostly by accident. It seems they'll take anything! I considered keeping it after reading <a href="http://theimpracticalfishermen.blogspot.com/2012/06/bbq-smoked-chipotle-frogs-legs.html">Dan the Impractical Fisherman's post about bullfrog legs</a>, but read the season for them doesn't open until June 15. When the season opens, might I keep a frog or two and try some wild-caught frog legs? When the zombie apocalypse happens I might need to...<br />
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Whew, that was a lot of fishing trips. Last night marked my 99th fishing trip of the year. I've caught 111 fish of 13 different species in two different states while kayaking, wading, shore fishing, still fishing, and fly fishing, at pretty much all times of day, on live bait, grocery store items, and lures both store-bought and homemade.<br />
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I caught my first walleye a couple weeks ago. <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2012/06/its-smallie-time.html">I even almost caught a fish with my bare hands</a>! I think I've had a great fishing year so far; I've learned a whole lot, spent a bunch of time outside, and generally had a great time doing it.<br />
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Although I've learned a huge amount about fishing, the primary thing I've discovered out of all these trips is how much I like the outdoors. I like catching fish, but if I had to be inside to do it, I doubt I would have gone fishing 99 times this year.<br />
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<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-22562318449994230162012-06-08T06:41:00.000-05:002012-06-08T06:41:19.742-05:00CB Goes Fly FishingIn an effort to get these posts written up and out there (I've got about 9 completely undocumented trips I want to tell you about!) I'll keep this short and to the point. Edit: I'll <b>try</b> and keep this short and to the point. Already I'm rambling.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rogue River guide Rob Vink</td></tr>
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Rob took me back to the good old Rogue River; after demonstrating proper fly casting technique for me, I butchered it entirely, but yet he put a fly rod in my hand and told me where to cast. It's a small miracle I even made it to where we were standing in the river, after tripping over every rock and slipping on every weed along the way. Rob moved through the woods like some kind of cougar, he navigated the rocks in the river like some kind of river creature. Although I followed the same path he took through the water, every step or so I almost ended up face down in the river. He claimed it was his experience, but I think maybe he had magic wading boots.<br />
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After a few tries, I somehow managed to get the tiny little dry fly to land kind of where Rob told me to put it. It was so strange, all that line flying around all over the place; the little tiny fly indistinguishable to me among all the other stuff floating on the surface of the water. Eventually I got the hang of it, kind of. I created huge tangles of the strangely thick and colored line every other cast, got the fly caught on trees, and generally felt like a total newbie. I <b>was</b> a total newbie; just like when I first started fishing a couple years back. It was frustrating and exciting.<br />
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I did my best to keep up with Rob's cat-like navigation of the river. I didn't fall in, but I came extremely close every few steps. We made it to a spot, Rob told me where to cast, I did my best to get the fly there... and then... there was a fish on the end of my line.<br />
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And I didn't know how to reel it in!<br />
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I asked Rob how to reel it in, holding the line with my left hand, the fish just splashing around. I wondered if it wondered what I was waiting for. Following his instructions, I pulled the weird colorful line with my left hand while he got out his fancy trout net. In a few seconds the fish was netted, and I had landed - with Rob's help - my first fish on the fly!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First fish on the fly!</td></tr>
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It was awesome- when I hooked the little rainbow trout it felt like I was grabbing it with my arm. When it did it's thing and tried to swim away, I had the sensation I was holding it by a string. Which I kind of was.<br />
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I couldn't believe that smart little fish could, out of all the stuff floating on the surface of the water in that scum line, pick out my fly and identify it as possible food.<br />
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I also couldn't believe I caught three more in the next hour or so- on the fly! As we waded, I practiced my back cast. That contributed to my constant tripping, but I think it also made my casting better. Pretty soon it was dark, Rob caught some trout too, and we headed back to the truck after a successful trip.<br />
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The coda to my little fly fishing prelude, if you'll let me get away with writing something like that, is the fly rod and reel combo I bought when I got back to Illinois. After spending an hour trying to make sense of all the new terms- backing, fly line, tapered leader, tippet - and learning some new knots, Claire and I headed to the pond. Since she encouraged (read: tolerated) my purchase of a fly rod, she made the first few casts on it. It was tough, due to the weeds everywhere and the scum all over the pond. Pretty soon she switched to a spinning rod and I manned the fly setup.</div>
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First cast, my dry fly hit the water nice and light, I saw a bluegill come up and take it, swim away, and it was on! I reeled in the line with my hand, and there it was: my first fish on my first fly rod.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There! Can you see it?</td></tr>
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I caught a bunch more 'gills, and even got a bass! As the sun set, we kept on casting. Once it started to get dark I realized why I'd never heard of night-fly-fishing. But we kept catching fish.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First bass on the fly</td></tr>
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While I struggled to control my fly line as the sun set, Claire caught two nice bass on a texas-rigged chigger craw I set up for her. Although I caught more fish by number, she caught more fish by weight. I'm fine with that arrangement.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claire and her nice bass</td></tr>
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<br /></div>Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-69483451531225926962012-06-07T08:02:00.000-05:002012-06-07T08:47:16.332-05:00It's Smallie Time<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the five smallies I pulled out of one spot</td></tr>
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After a great adventure on the Rogue, I decided to get up early again the next morning and head back. I woke up at 4am eastern time (which of course, once again, was 3am my time), made a pot of coffee, and drank it as quickly as possible.<br />
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I went out to my car to get going, and I took note of how dark it was. It didn't seem like sunrise was close at all. A quick search on my phone told me sunrise wasn't for more than an hour, and here I was all caffeinated and ready to go. It would only take 30-40 minutes to get to the river, and I wasn't prepared to wade in the dark... So I headed to Meijer.<br />
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I may have mentioned Meijer before; it's a Michigan grocery store that sells lots of other stuff. Stuff like clothes, dishes, and fishing gear. It also happens to be open 24 hours a day.<br />
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I walked into the Meijer at about 4:15am, the same Meijer where I bought shaving cream and some cologne right before my wedding a couple years ago. Made my way to the back, found the fishing section, grabbed 2 tiny Rooster Tails just like the one Rob let me borrow the previous day. I threw in a bag of beef jerky for good measure.<br />
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A short drive later I was at the river, the same place Rob caught the 14" brown. I got into the water and immediately noticed a fish hanging out in very shallow water. I fished it, but it paid no attention. I slowly crept up behind it, coming from downstream; it made no indication it knew I was there.<br />
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Amazed, I got closer and closer. It was a trout, but I couldn't tell what kind. There was clearly something wrong with it, because I was a foot behind it and it was just hanging out. Could it have been asleep?<br />
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I slowly reached down, stretching out my hands around it... Was this really happening? In a quick movement I closed my hands around the fish, pulled it out of the water; suddenly it woke up and jumped out of my hands back into the water.<br />
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Does that count as catching a fish? I kept thinking "did I just catch a fish with my bare hands!?"<br />
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I slowly worked my way downstream, throwing spinners, spinners, and other spinners, hoping to entice some trout. I saw them jumping now and then; they were certainly there. After an hour I reached a stretch with deeper and slower water. I couldn't wade through it due to its depth, so I decided to head back to the car and try another spot.<br />
<br />
Using my phone's GPS, I located a nice bend in the river a couple miles downstream. I navigated through farmland and some really nice residential areas while sipping my coffee. I mean chugging my coffee. I found a nice gravel area to park, noticed the refreshing lack of "no fishing" and "no parking" signs and headed into the water.<br />
<br />
I fished all the spots that seemed fishy, but couldn't find any fish. I did see what I thought was a carp swim upstream, but that was all the action there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/599477_10100877313438752_12103668_53669239_904272836_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/599477_10100877313438752_12103668_53669239_904272836_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I found another spot and another gravel pull off, and headed down to the water under a bridge. This stretch was closer to the Grand River, and seemed to me to be more smallmouth bass water. Slower current, slightly deeper water; gravel and boulders on the bottom. Standing in the flowing water, very refreshing in the warming morning air, I tried to analyze what I was seeing. Downstream got shallow quick, and the current picked up considerably. Upstream of the bridge seemed to be shallow mud flats, devoid of any structure or current breaks. I concluded if I were a smallmouth bass, I would choose to hang out near the bridge supports in the little eddies.<br />
<br />
First cast with my jig and twister, and there was a hit. Not a pan fish tap tap, but a much stronger BAMBAM. Could I have finally found some fish?<br />
<br />
Second or third cast I connected with something BIG! After all the trout fishing, it's as if I had forgotten what a big old beefy smallmouth bass felt like (even though I caught one the day before). After a tremendously entertaining fight, I lipped the fish and marveled at its amazing coloration.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
In the next two hours, I proceeded to pull out four more smallies and two big rock bass, all on the twister. I tried tossing some tubes, crankbaits, spinners; but they were clearly telling me what they wanted. 1/16oz jig with a 3" white twister tail, smacked right into the bridge supports and falling into the water. Each bass was an amazing fight- they didn't leap out of the water too much, but they were very strong and determined. Most of them swam around me in circles; one even rammed me in the thigh. Since I was so close to shore, I was able to get some nice pictures by propping up my phone and setting a picture timer.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/582490_10100858957773652_1416244476_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/582490_10100858957773652_1416244476_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at those colors!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I worked every support, and they all pretty much had fish. After a while it seemed I had "tagged" all the fish in the area, and doubted there would be fish anywhere else nearby judging by the lack of structure and type of current. But what do I know, I could have missed even more! The fish I caught were bigger and stronger than most of the fish I'd caught on the Fox, and I had a great time catching them. I packed it up, headed back to my car, amazingly and completely satisfied.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/163332_10100858964724722_12103668_53550241_873379047_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/163332_10100858964724722_12103668_53550241_873379047_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He doesn't look big, but he was FAT</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-15933194381610220082012-06-06T07:30:00.000-05:002012-06-07T09:45:38.595-05:00Adventures in Canoeing on the Rogue River<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c6e9LKOODnY/T89VMqGQcxI/AAAAAAAABQU/1Jj0myCYpBo/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-06-06+at+8.03.14+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c6e9LKOODnY/T89VMqGQcxI/AAAAAAAABQU/1Jj0myCYpBo/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-06-06+at+8.03.14+AM.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Rogue River, through Rockford to its<br />
mouth at the Grand River (our journey)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This post is tremendously overdue.<br />
<br />
Although many details have faded due to the time elapsed (it's been almost two weeks since our trip to Michigan!) I feel obligated to record at least part of the story. <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2012/06/wheres-cb-and-is-he-fishing.html">As I mentioned recently</a>, things have been pretty crazy. I left my job at Columbia College Chicago, started a new one at <a href="http://chartcapture.com/">ChartCapture</a>, and have spent most of my free time fishing. The idea of sitting back down at the computer has not been appealing to me, so I haven't done it! I sit here now, fueled by a big ol' cup of coffee, hoping to get this little story out there and get my personal fishing records all caught up.<br />
<br />
I've mentioned my fishing mentors various times here; Mark, Rob, and Luke. They are the trio who introduced me to fishing, got me hooked, and have provided lots of hints and tips along the way. Almost every time Claire and I head back to Michigan for a birthday, holiday, gig, or whatever, I end up fishing with at least one of these guys.<br />
<br />
The last trip to Michigan was no different- at 5am (4am my time) I was at Rob's house, trying to down enough coffee to make sense of things, ready for my first time in a canoe.<br />
<br />
Turns out, three people in a canoe may not be ideal. Although I've spent a lot of time in kayaks (in the past two years) I'd never been in a canoe until then. It was hard for me to judge whether canoes are just incredibly unstable, or our canoe shouldn't have really had three big dudes in it. Rob, Mark, and I arrived at the Rogue river before sunrise and started casting. Our quarry was trout, and on one of his first casts Rob landed what turned out to be the nicest fish of the day, a 14" brown. Somehow, the only picture I got of it was right before we ate it a few hours later. It was delicious.<br />
<br />
EDIT: I found the "<i>before</i>" picture...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/394177_746420939444_2065901391_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/394177_746420939444_2065901391_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a nice fish right there</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/206154_10100875933678802_1126710061_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="483" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/206154_10100875933678802_1126710061_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a great fish: great fight, super pretty colors, very tasty</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We hopped in the canoe, paddling downstream with the hopes of covering a lot of water. Almost immediately it was clear it was going to be an adventure; even the smallest set of rapids gave us grief, the canoe pounding the rocks, throwing us off balance, teetering closer and closer to the water. One of our first direct hits jolted the canoe, almost tossing us out into the river. Mark was in front "watching for rocks" (each rock would be announced milliseconds before we slammed into it! it made for exciting canoeing) Rob was in back "steering" (who knows where we were going) and I was in the middle doing my best not to rock the boat. Most of the time I crouched down in the canoe, my knuckles white as snow as I clutched the side, expecting a cold river-water ejection any moment.<br />
<br />
We hit a big rock, the canoe tipped to the verge of flipping; Mark fell backwards onto me and his ultralight rod, snapping either the rod or me, I couldn't tell. Turns out it was the rod. I have to give mad props to these two gentlemen; for the amount of trouble we had getting down the river, I don't think I heard a single profanity escape their lips! Me on the other hand, well... Let's just say there were two streams that morning: the river, and what was coming from my mouth.<br />
<br />
As the morning went on, Mark and Rob both caught trout on little tiny spinners. I was amazed such small spinners could even be cast, let alone land 8-10" rainbow trout. Rob graciously let me borrow one of his ity-bity spinners, which I tied on with haste. I proceeded to miss what seemed like hundreds of trout taking swipes at my spinner. Some of them launched clear out of the water, but none of them connected.<br />
<br />
It was exciting and frustrating. I varied my retrieves, faster, slower, faster still; and finally somehow managed to hook my first fish of the day. Before a picture could be taken, the little rainbow propelled itself out of my hands and returned to the water. Soon after that I landed my first brown trout that wasn't a tiny 5" juvenile. Rob came over to document the moment for me; he also documented the exact moment the little brown decided it was time to return to the water, as I desperately tried to keep it in my hands.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/579975_10100856265264462_1904078257_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/579975_10100856265264462_1904078257_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out that pretty little brown!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/564354_10100856268038902_429864054_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/564354_10100856268038902_429864054_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">..and then it released itself</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Great! I caught a brown trout, something that is more or less impossible in Illinois (you can catch them in Lake Michigan, but I've never been able to).<br />
<br />
We headed downstream, my knuckles burning from gripping the canoe so tightly, Mark's still functioning malformed and broken rod still able to catch fish, Rob trying to disguise his worry every time we heard scraping and breaking sounds come from the bottom of the canoe... It was a great time. Between rapids I shoved beef jerky and trail mix in my mouth. It was good I wasn't paddling; I would have definitely put us all in the water.<br />
<br />
Every time we encountered a fishy spot, we hopped out of the canoe and fished it. As the day went on and wives inquired to our location, we realized we didn't know where we were. My phone had no service; Mark and Rob had partial service. We realized we had a long way to go, and decided to push down the river in earnest.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/403530_10100856269396182_624252758_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/403530_10100856269396182_624252758_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the two rainbows I caught that morning</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As we headed downstream, I was amazed how the character of the river changed from stretch to stretch. Some places shallow and rocky with fast current, others deeper sand flats, others rocks and gravel and sand with slower current, others just mud. Astounded would be too light a word to describe how I felt about the water clarity; for the most part I could see completely to the bottom through the gin-clear water. It was awesome.<br />
<br />
At one point we reached a set of rapids clearly too much for our overloaded boat. I got out to carry some gear through the forest while Mark and Rob- expert canoe-ists- managed the rapids. I filmed their journey with my camera, but upon later viewing it was clear what the camera saw and they experienced were too different things. What shows up as a .mov file on my computer looks like an easy float downstream I'm sure caused their lives to flash before their eyes.<br />
<br />
We desperately paddled (by we I mean they, since I was on canoe-clutching duty sitting in the middle) as the clock ticked and the day aged. Rob suggested I cast a bit while we canoed, so I did. We reached an area that looked like smallie territory, and Rob confirmed indeed it was. Smallies <i>and</i> trout, in one river? My mind exploded a little, but it didn't stop me from casting. Every so often Mark or Rob would point out a particular spot, I'd cast there, hopefully not catching my lure on anything. There was one close call with a tube jig: I had to cut the line or else the force of the canoe might have pulled the rod out of my hands!<br />
<br />
As we floated down river, I cast to a spot Rob suggested and immediately hooked into a fish- I yelled "Fish!" My fishing partners put the brakes on the boat as I fought with a small monster- a monster I'm much more familiar with than those Michigan trout... I pulled out a very nice Michigan smallmouth bass on my go-to white twister tail.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/148913_10100856271506952_2018022318_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/148913_10100856271506952_2018022318_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out those colors</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That fish was enough to halt our journey; the other two guys jumped out of the canoe and started fishing. Almost right away I connected with another fish, and a few casts later got him to commit. Thanks to Mark for manning the camera!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/149751_10100856272654652_12103668_53530224_154143816_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/149751_10100856272654652_12103668_53530224_154143816_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big ol' rock bass from the Rogue River</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A few minutes later Rob landed a smallie as well, but I'd be remiss if I didn't acknowledge how much bigger mine was. I've learned a lot from my fishing mentors, including how to give each other &$%# for their tiny fish.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/545678_10100856277385172_12103668_53530248_1965072642_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/545678_10100856277385172_12103668_53530248_1965072642_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob and an ok smallie (just kidding, it was great)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Pretty soon it was time to head out. We passed a lot more fishy looking spots that almost certainly held fish, but we were already more than an hour behind schedule. <i>Somebody</i> had underestimated the length of our journey. (I'm talking to <i>you</i> Rob!) Not that I'm complaining, I thought it was great. I could have fished that river all day.<br />
<br />
When all was said and done, we had traveled more than 7 miles on the Rogue River, caught a bunch of fish, almost died about twenty times, one of us got a leech on his leg (hint: it wasn't me), and we created some real nice memories. They will stay with us for a long time, maybe even longer than the deep gouges on the canoe.Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-6699987877790123032012-06-04T07:15:00.000-05:002012-06-04T07:15:41.278-05:00Where's CB and is he fishing?The answer is right here and yes, of course I'm fishing.<br />
<br />
A variety of circumstances have prevented me from my usual flurry of blog posts as of late... One of them is the new job I started last week. So far I'm very much enjoying it- I'm working from home, my new coworkers are awesome, the job is exciting and interesting, and there's a lot to learn. Since I'm working from home, those 3 hours I used to spend on my commute are no longer travel time anymore.<br />
<br />
It was during those 3 hours of travel I wrote most of my blog posts. Sitting on the metra, typing on my laptop; that's where most of CB Fishes came from.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/579975_10100856265264462_1904078257_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/579975_10100856265264462_1904078257_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The story behind this brown trout?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/564354_10100856268038902_429864054_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/564354_10100856268038902_429864054_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It didn't feel like hanging around for another picture</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Now, there is no transit time to my job (besides the 10 second walk up the stairs). Once I'm done with work, instead of sitting down and writing new posts I head out into the world and go fishing. Or kayaking. Or pretty much anything else besides sitting down in front of a computer and typing up a post.<br />
<br />
I've certainly had some adventures recently- now they're getting older, sitting on the shelves of my "need to blog about this" library. Last weekend in Michigan I experienced my first canoe trip with Mark and Rob, caught some trout; then went fly fishing for the first time under the expert tutelage of Rob Vink, fly fishing master. Naturally, I came back to Illinois and purchased a fly rod/reel combo. Saturday night Claire and I went to the local pond, where I proceeded to catch 3 bluegill and a nice largemouth bass on the fly!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/532730_10100869714232622_96746488_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/532730_10100869714232622_96746488_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First cast, first flyrod, first bluegill on the fly</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It's been exciting, with the fly rod in my hand I feel like a complete novice, the way I felt with a spinning rod about a year ago. To be clear, I'm still a total newbie to fishing, but at least I know how to handle a spinning rod and jig. The fly rod, well, that's another story. I can catch some fish with it, but I have a suspicion I'm doing it wrong...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/318233_10100869695719722_1080686553_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="432" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/318233_10100869695719722_1080686553_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claire caught this one on a black and red chigger craw</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Should I still blog about adventures that are more than a week old? I think I will. When will I be doing that? A very good question. In the meantime, I'll keep posting new pictures to Instagram and Facebook should you be so inclined to see the most recent catches even without the story behind them. I've also gotten on the Twitter bandwagon: follow <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/cbfishes">@cbfishes</a> to get a stream of mostly fishing-related posts shorter than 140 characters. And a bunch of pictures too.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/582490_10100858957773652_12103668_53550189_1416244476_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/582490_10100858957773652_12103668_53550189_1416244476_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of 5 smallies I pulled out from one spot<br />on the Rogue River in Michigan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-86604123802074464212012-05-24T20:52:00.000-05:002012-05-24T20:52:31.192-05:00Paperclips, yarn, and shoelacesI'm heading to Michigan this weekend, and plan on fishing either the Rogue River for trout or the Flat River for smallies and trout. I've had some good times on the Rogue- <a href="http://cbfishes.blogspot.com/2011/10/how-now-brown-trout.html">caught my first brown trout there last fall</a> - and can't wait to get back in the water.<br />
<br />
For some reason I'm not fishing right now, so I spent a little time and made some new spinners. Luke, one of my trio of fishing teachers, hipped me to a particular spinner that supposedly works great for smallies on the flat.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a8.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/560266_10100853415774862_12103668_53515591_861193873_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://a8.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/560266_10100853415774862_12103668_53515591_861193873_n.jpg" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one is great, he tells me</td></tr>
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Instead of going out and buying a few, which would certainly make more sense and almost definitely get the results he's personally had on the river, I decided to make some of my own to throw in another variable. Maybe they'll work, maybe not. In my limited experience making lures, I'm consistently surprised the stuff fish will hit. They don't care if it's pretty, it just has to get their attention in whatever way they are focused that particular day. This one, which looks like a child made it, caught a 20" catfish.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/318431_10100385668464222_12103668_51394499_496070661_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/318431_10100385668464222_12103668_51394499_496070661_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looks silly, catches fish. Fine with me</td></tr>
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A few weeks ago I took some thick paper clips (you know, the big kind) and bent them into rough spinner shapes. Today it was a simple matter of adding the components and adding the dressed feathers. Here is what I came up with trying to emulate that rooster tail:<br />
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<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/575308_10100853389357802_12103668_53515487_574067869_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/575308_10100853389357802_12103668_53515487_574067869_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I made each one slightly different (more weight on the right one, willow blade instead of colorado on the left) so I can see how little changes affect how the lure runs. You might be saying "Well hey Chris, that's a <i>willow</i> blade on the rooster tail one, why did you use colorado blades instead?" The answer is I only had one silver willow blade. I've been really liking the action of blades attached directly to the shaft, i.e. with no clevis (the thing that holds the blade on Mepps-style spinners). They spin more and more easily, providing a lot of motion.<br /><br />
I made some others too:<br />
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<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/536004_10100853389432652_12103668_53515488_239025241_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/536004_10100853389432652_12103668_53515488_239025241_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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and one with the specific intention of catching a pike with it:<br />
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<a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/542326_10100853389552412_12103668_53515489_1588672713_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/542326_10100853389552412_12103668_53515489_1588672713_n.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.sims-spinners.com/">A special thanks to Dan Sims of Sims Spinners</a> for sending me some spinner components. The stuff I've been getting from Jann's Netcraft is ok, but the pieces Dan sent me are clearly high quality stuff. The finishes are very nice and glossy, and assembled the spinners have a great weight to them. Thanks Dan! Can't wait to catch some monsters on your spinners.<br />
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My last order from Jann's included some jigheads; although I love jigging (tube jigs, twister tails, grubs) I rarely throw the other kind... I think they're called swim jigs. The kind that has a skirt or hair or something on it. I got some skirts from Jann's, but so far those haven't landed me any fish. Maybe this one will. Yarn and shoelace skirt:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/562292_10100853389617282_12103668_53515490_1901898907_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/562292_10100853389617282_12103668_53515490_1901898907_n.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yarn and shoelace</td></tr>
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Hopefully I'll catch some monsters with these. Someday I'll finish that dub album, but for now I'm going fishing.Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-33501703519806956832012-05-24T11:53:00.000-05:002012-05-24T11:55:16.389-05:00A very short postThe other night I went to Mallard Lake, the scene of the crime so to speak for my first walleye. Worked some areas, nothing, nobody else caught anything. Then I threw out my white jig and twister, this guy jumped a foot out of the water.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">30 minutes, 1 fish.. not bad</td></tr>
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Yesterday afternoon I investigated the west branch of the Dupage river which flows through Mallard. Took about half an hour to find a place to park anywhere close to the river. When I got there it was about 4 inches deep, a carp was hanging out in some weeds.<br />
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Last night I didn't fish after work... But by 7pm I was bored and decided to go fish the pond for an hour before River Monsters came on. I got to the pond, there must have been 6 dudes standing on the shore fising. What!!??<br />
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I headed to Songbird Slough, about 5 minutes from there, and fished for about 45 minutes. Tried everything, no fish. I got a very strange hit on my jig and twister; in my head I thought it was a walleye, definitely didn't feel like a bass. Couldn't get it to happen again.<br />
<br />
I'm extremely obsessed with fishing.<br />
<br />
Here's what the sunset looked like as I was leaving to go home and watch Jeremy Wade battle giant catfish and eels and stuff:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/550522_10100852622514562_12103668_53512269_839076691_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://a7.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/550522_10100852622514562_12103668_53512269_839076691_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset at Songbird Slough</td></tr>
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<br />Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6583114935825054152.post-45399919630637749592012-05-24T11:01:00.001-05:002012-05-24T11:01:39.160-05:00Early Wednesday Fishing<br />
As some of you may know, I am leaving my current job at Columbia College Chicago. Next week I will begin working at <a href="http://www.chartcapture.com/">ChartCapture</a>, doing tech support among other things. You may know about ChartCapture through fellow fishermen like <a href="http://foxriverfishing.net/">Sam Bennett</a>.<br />
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I won't be spending 3 hours a day commuting like I do now, I'll be working from home... That means I won't have the daily opportunity to fish downtown Chicago. Since this is my last week at Columbia, I decided I'd try and make the most of my last chance to fish while I'm there already. I woke up at 4am, downed a few cups of coffee, and hopped in the car, joining the already growing traffic on 290.<br />
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I parked at exactly 5am sharp, and reached Burnham Harbor Marina by 5:15. I was shocked and dismayed to find the gate leading to the choice spot at the pipe padlocked. Before I got too bent out of shape, I reminded myself fish can be everywhere, even away from "the good spot." I set up shop: one rod with crawlers under a bobber, the other with various jigs, cranks, spinners, and of course tubes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/576632_10100852538917092_1911905814_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://sphotos.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/576632_10100852538917092_1911905814_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake side at Burnham</td></tr>
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I fish almost exclusively with lures, rarely fishing with nightcrawlers, and almost never with minnows. It's not that I'm against it, it's just convenient to carry all necessary fishing gear in my backpack as I go to work. Trying to transport minnows would make things tricky.<br />
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Because of that, I have this idea that if I use live bait- like worms- I'll have to fight the fish off with a stick. Turns out, this is not necessarily the case. I threw my bobber out, and was astonished it didn't get a single hit for at least five minutes. After a while, I finally managed to pull up a tiny bluegill, which of course is better than no fish.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/150716_10100852538288352_12103668_53511948_1213145598_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/150716_10100852538288352_12103668_53511948_1213145598_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Better than nothing!</td></tr>
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I worked a small homemade inline spinner along the wall, perhaps hoping for any stray trout or salmon that might be in the harbor, and noticed many follows as I retrieved the lure. But they only followed when I burned the lure through the water super quickly. It reminded me of the baby trout on the Rogue River in Michigan; I only caught some when I increased the speed of my retrieve.<br />
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I had trouble keeping the spinner deep while I cranked it in, especially fishing from the pier six feet above the water. No matter what I did, I couldn't connect with any fish. I remembered some WCF members suggesting if I'm getting follows I'm close to the right presentation, so I tried a few other spinners and cranks. Some didn't get any follows, some did, but ony when I sped the lure through the water like a bat out of hell.<br />
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Frustrated, I decided to fish the other side, the lake side. I hauled my gear over a fence, jumped it myself, and found myself next to very calm water looking north to downtown Chicago. I set up at the pipe, and when I looked down I was amazed at what I saw in the water: a HUGE swarm of fish. The kind you see on the discovery channel on shows about the ocean. There were so many of them! I have no real way of estimating how many but I'd have to guess hundreds.<br />
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It was amazing! The water was very clear, and as the school swam around, the sun reflected on hundreds of tiny fish bodies like a chandelier in some underwater mansion. Occasionally I saw a much bigger fish chase some of the smaller fish. That was pretty cool; I don't often have the opportunity to see that.<br />
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And then I remembered to fish, so I did. I was sure one of those small fish would be interested in my night crawler, so I plopped it down in the water in the middle of the swarm. I couldn't figure out what they were... We're they shad? Baby bass? Alewives?<br />
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None of them were the slightest bit interested in my bait. When I tossed a jig and twister into their midst, they followed it around as long as I kept it moving, but lost interest when it was still. Just like trout.<br />
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Were these trout!!?<br />
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And then I saw a trio of giant carp, or at least what I thought were carp, cruising around the rocks near the swarm of little unknown fish. I saw another fish that wasn't a carp, but couldn't tell if it was a smallie, trout, salmon, or something else. Nothing I tossed into the water got any attention. Night crawlers on a makeshift crappie rig off the bottom, under a bobber, jigged; it seemed no presentation could entice these fish.<br />
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Finally I caught a goby. I may or may not have put it back on the hook. And it may or may not have elicited a strike from something, that may or may not have reminded me of a smallmouth bass... But alas, I missed the hook set and it didn't happen again.<br />
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After at least an hour and three gobies later, I decided to go back to the first spot. Some marina guys came and unlocked the gates, finally, so I made my way to the spot at the pipe. When I looked in the clear water, sure enough there was a swarm of fish there too. Still couldn't tell what they were, but I was excited to watch the fish. At one point I saw something I was positive was a big smallmouth bass, swimming casually a few feet under the swarm, but it was not interested in anything I dangled in front of its face.<br />
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And then I started to get follows again, burning a deep diving black and white crankbait through the water. It was very curious; there was a small window of speed, not slow but not like a bullet, where the little unknown fish would follow my lure. They lined up behind it, chasing it all the way back to me. It was exciting.<br />
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After about fifty casts parallel to the wall in front of the pipe, I figured out the right speed to attract the most fish. Suddenly, I felt a tiny amount of resistance on my crankbait that told me I had a fish on! And then I found out what those fish were.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/550602_10100852535459022_12103668_53511939_876207560_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="374" src="http://a5.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/550602_10100852535459022_12103668_53511939_876207560_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby steelhead and the lure it took</td></tr>
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That swarm of hundreds of little fish were baby steelhead trout! As soon as I realized what I had caught, I took a picture extremely quickly and got it back in the water in as little time as possible. I knew that these little guys would grow much bigger, and in three or four years would become the giant and delicious adult steelheads that I've had so little luck catching. I didn't want to mess up their childhood, I wanted them to grow big and strong. I marveled at the audacity of this little trout, to attack a lure about the same size as itself.<br />
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Now that I knew what they were, I stopped fishing for them. I wondered if these were stocked trout recently released by the DNR. Either way, I didn't want to bother them and negatively affect the steelhead fishing in the future. Looking in the water, I noticed another school of fish that looked similar to the baby steelhead, but were brown. Could those be baby brown trout?<br />
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I threw a night crawler on the bottom on the off chance one of the giant carp might go for it, although there was no real way I'd be able to land one from the pier. I threw bass lures, trying to bring the smallies- supposedly "in the harbors now"- out of hiding. An hour later, it was time to go to work. I was really happy to add another species to my "species scoreboard 2012" and I hoped I didn't harm the beautiful little fish.<br />
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As I walked back to toward the city, dreams of adult steelhead and brown trout and giant lake Michigan smallies filled my head.<br />
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°°°</div>
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<i>Although my haul of fish wasn't huge yesterday morning, I'm very happy with the variety of fish I've been catching! In the past 7 days, I've caught green sunfish, smallmouth bass, bullhead catfish, freshwater drum, bluegill, perch, walleye, gobies, largemouth bass, and this beautiful little steelhead trout. For a while I fished just for largemouth bass, but I see no reason to discount all the other great fish you can catch. They're all different, they all require different approaches, and I like the challenge of learning how they all operate. Someday when the zombie apocalypse happens, I might be glad I can catch more than just bass. </i></div>
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<i>Fish are awesome!</i></div>Chris Beckstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08852092611685056268noreply@blogger.com0