Hotdogs

I 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.

First catch on the red and white beck-spook
(back in Michigan fishing with my buddy Mark)

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 fish want, not what you want to fish with."

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.)

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.

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.

"Hey what do you catch in here.. catfish?" they asked.

"Yeah, and bass and bluegill" I replied.

"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.

"Yeah man," I said. "Lots of bass, mostly small ones [I measured with my hands] but there are a couple bigger ones."

"Oh wow, cool man. You ever fish for catfish?"

"Yeah, I've caught some nice ones here, one big one a few weeks back, around 27"

"Ok cool.. Hey you want some catfish bait?"

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.

"Oh thanks man, I appreciate it, but I've got some hotdog already."

"Hotdog? Man, you can't catch anything on hotdogs!"

As un-douchey as I could manage, "Actually the biggest cat from this pond was on a hotdog!"

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

When it was, I grabbed it, took some pictures, and admired my catch.

Of course I forgot to weight it or measure it.
Right after I released it I pulled out my ruler.
I estimate about 28" long. Whoohoo!

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.

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.

Turns out, yes you can catch fish on hotdogs.

Bowfin!...and why I'm done fishing for anything else

Charlie and his dad fishin'

I hooked the bluegill through the tail, just how Sam Bennett 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.

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 hated 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.

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- and I caught the biggest fish I've ever caught to date. 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.

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.

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!

Walter the fishing dog

 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.

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 all the time; I checked my Twitter while I waited for the big one.

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!

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.

Charlie and I posed for a picture. Not exactly the giant catfish we were hoping for, but at least we were in the ballpark!

late night bullhead!

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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 that!?"

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.

Snakehead!??

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.

"Bowfin!?" I said, pronouncing it like it rhymed with "poe-fin." I still don't know how to say it. "Dogfish!?"

Dogfish!

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 Bowfin Anglers Group, a website dedicated to this awesome fish, and read every line of text I could find. So did Leo.

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.

°°°

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.

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.

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.

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.

Immediately, the fish knew it was hooked. It was not happy. 

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.

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.

The fight was like no other fish I'd ever hooked into. It was strong. Although the giant drum I caught last time we were camping 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

What an amazing creature

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.

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.

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.

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.

When I grow up I'm going to be a bowfin angler. I just need to learn how to pronounce "bowfin."

Even the biggest bass I've ever caught pales in comparison to this monster

99 Fishing Trips

I 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...

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.

Walter and me on the way to Lake Pleasant

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.

This one apparently swallowed a little animal...
Mouse? Muscrat? I'd never seen that before!

Probably the biggest of the day.. I don't usually put fish
on the ground, but this one fell. It was probably
a safer way to remove the treble hooks too

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.

Big ol' green sunfish- hit like a bass!

I went night fishing the other day, hoping to catch another one of the retention pond catfish. 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.

23" (channel) cat caught on hotdog!

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.

My copycat of a Heddon Torpedo, made out of cedar
This one got a lot of hits at night at the pond

Glow-in-the-dark firetiger crank made of balsa

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.

And then yesterday morning, I caught a fish on it!

I carved it, painted it, fished it, and caught this fish with it

This one dives medium deep and has a nice wobble. So far
one fish has taken a swipe at it

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 the retention pond) and discovered the whole pond is about 2-3 feet deep with a thick mud bottom.

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.

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 Dan the Impractical Fisherman's post about bullfrog legs, 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...

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.

I caught my first walleye a couple weeks ago. I even almost caught a fish with my bare hands! 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.

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.

Fishing for carp and catching bullheads

* Editor's Note: not sure if they are bullheads, channel cats, or what... But they are certainly catfish.


A few weeks ago I "discovered" a new fishing spot. In fact, doing aerial research on it via google maps, I found my car parked next to one of the ponds the very day I first fished the spot. You can even make out a small blob that I'm pretty sure is me.

That's my car, and that little black blob is me
fishing this spot for the first time

That day I saw lots of frogs, but didn't catch anything out of the little pond. Looking at the spot via google maps, I realized there was a much larger body of water just on the other side of the pond. On my way home from work on monday I headed there to investigate. What I found was what seemed to be a very shallow, muddy body of water filled with carp. How do I know it's filled with carp? Every couple of seconds, carp parts would break the surface of the water; a dorsal fin here, a caudal fin there, sometimes I even caught glimpses of a little carp mouth. And this was happening everywhere- just a few feet from shore, in the middle of the pond, and everywhere else. Armed only with bass fishing gear, which proved very unsuccessful, I quickly headed home to grab some more carp-oriented gear.

Carp is one of the many species I've yet to catch. I've seen many of them in my fishing experiences. The first time I encountered them, I was in my kayak at Busse and had no idea what these giant fish were, bumping my kayak and splashing me with water. I thought they were jumping walleye. Of course now I know the difference between carp and walleye, but not much else! I've been doing a lot of "research" on carp and how to fish them. Although they seem to be looked down upon by many anglers, apparently they put up a great fight. Most of the carp I've seen swimming around are twice as big as the biggest bass I've ever caught. That is reason enough to pursue them in my book. (Don't know what carp look like? Check this out)

I returned to the pond, with two rods, tiny circle hooks, frozen corn, and half a loaf of cheap white bread. I proceeded to spend the next few hours soaking little bits of food. The spot I found is clearly frequented by other anglers- empty cans, bottles, paper, plastic bags, and even a used six pack of beer litter the area. I simply don't understand leaving trash like that, especially if you're going to come back! Do some people really want to sit in their own trash while they fish? Not to mention the fact that this is a public space, clearly shared by others. It is incomprehensible to me. Until I started fishing and saw all the trash, I thought littering was something we vanquished with after school specials and plain old common sense. Clearly it is still a problem.

That first trip out, I caught a tiny little yellow bullhead. On corn! Because my drag was set so loosely - based on the advice of internet carp anglers - the fish felt huge. When I reeled it in and saw the tiny little guy, all I could do was laugh. The circle hook did it's job perfectly- the fish was hooked nicely in the corner of the mouth, leaving it completely unscathed from the experience of being caught.

Baby bullhead.. isn't he cute?

I threw out corn into the area, the internet tells me that's a good way to get carp in the area, more likely to find my hooked corn. When I returned the next day, the carp had clearly found my corn and were cruising right around the area I had chummed. I chummed some more, threw my two lines out, and waited.

For many, fishing is an exercise in patience. Casting out a line and hoping a fish will find it, that is the way many fish. There's certainly nothing wrong with that approach, but I've never had the patience for it. My approach to fishing has always been cast, cast, hike, cast, cast, and cast some more. Always moving, always looking for new spots, always second-guessing my lures, always trying to find the fish. The opposite of passive fishing, active fishing I suppose. That's part of the appeal of fishing to me- it's part fishing, part hiking; although I move slowly, usually cover a lot of ground. Except for wading, due to my inexperience I tend to wade quite slowly.

Recently, learning more about the plentiful carp and catfish that inhabit almost every body of water and can grow much larger than bass, I've started to fish for these fish. Why spend all my time pursuing only one species? I love chasing bass, both the green and the brown kind, but there are many kinds of fish. By ignoring carp and catfish, I've probably been missing out on most of the fishing all around me, pound for pound. The static, passive method of fishing for these species always dissuaded me from trying it. In an effort to improve my patience (and species list) I've been pursuing these bottom-feeding species almost exclusively this week. My honey-hole retention pond is clogged with weeds and filled with spawning bass who are completely uninterested in my lures, so it was a good excuse to try a new kind of fishing.

My baby bullhead spot

Tuesday I caught three more little bullheads, each smaller than the last. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy catching them. For such small fish, they put up a nice fight- especially with my drag set so loose. I am wary of their fins, which the internet tells me are tipped with a toxin more painful than a bee sting if it breaks the skin. These little fish are particularly feisty and difficult to handle, so I've been lipping them as I would with a bass. Each one bites down on my fingers repeatedly, just as I deserve for cheating them out of their meal of corn and poking them with little hooks.

Last night I spent a little time before sunset soaking some corn, and once again caught some bullheads. One on corn, very tiny, like little toy versions of their bigger catfish cousins. The spot I'd been fishing had a big wooden plank to sit on, and something possessed me to move it. Underneath it were tons of little worms enjoying the damp darkness under the wood. Perfect! I grabbed a few, put them on a hook, and cast them out. Pretty soon another bullhead found them and ended up in another instagram picture with me.

After a bunch of hours this week fishing for carp in this one spot, I decided I should try another spot. Maybe for some reason they just wouldn't take the corn here. I tried a few different techniques to entice them: very loose drag, then I just opened my bail so they would feel no resistance, then I put a slip sinker behind a swivel and put the hook two feet farther down, but no carp. A few times I pulled up corn that looked like it had been sampled, but no carp came with it. I picked up my gear and headed to a smaller pond where a fisherman told me he'd caught carp before.

There were definitely fish there- I saw plenty of movement on the surface, which I guessed wasn't very far from the bottom. I waited, and waited, and waited. I heard some rustling in the grasses near me, and I carefully tiptoed to investigate. I saw a little otter (or muscrat) swimming away carrying a bunch of grass in his mouth. Reminded me of that image of a dove with an olive branch in it's beak. When the little guy saw me, he quickly submerged into the chocolate milk-like water.

As this picture was taken, the little
guy never stopped biting my fingers

And then I caught yet another bullhead, unless I was losing track it was my sixth one at this set of ponds. Although I could see the carp everywhere, they apparently wanted nothing to do with my corn or worms. Seeing them swimming all around, kicking up mud on the bottom, clearly feeding- that is the most frustrating part. I know they're there, I know they're feeding, but I can't get them to eat my corn. Out of frustration, I tied a little white twister tail to one of my lines and fished it slow along the bottom. I'd heard of carp and catfish occasionally being caught on such lures, and I couldn't take the waiting anymore. I got one set of bites which felt like little panfish, but when I recast to the area they were gone.

As the sun set, I packed up my stuff and headed back to my car. I caught three fish, which isn't bad compared to my average this year, but I still hadn't hooked into the elusive carp. One of these days, I'll get one on the end of my line. And I'll probably really like it. Until then, I'll keep trying. Working on that whole patience thing.

The bullhead pond right around sunset

Sparring with smallmouth bass

After a delicious meal of various BBQ'ed meats, beans, and cornbread with my lovely wife, there was only one thing I could do. Night fishing!

I started the "2012 Fishing Season" (i.e. January 1-December 31) with a few goals- catch a walleye and a pike. Since then I've been adding things like "catch a carp" and "catch a monster catfish on a live bluegill." I decided to try for the latter this outing. But first, of course, I'd have to catch a bluegill.

The pond was almost completely covered with thick, mucous-like weeds. In the dark, I could see only a few spots where the water surface reflected the cloudy sky. The rest was weeds. Using my new glow-in-the-dark bobber and my not-so-new glow-in-the-dark charger thing (looks like a glasses case; you put a lure inside and it flashes to make it glow) I was able to fish with a bobber in the dark. Pretty soon I had a nice bluegill that went after a 1" Gulp minnow.

Night fishing for bluegill

It seemed too big to use as bait, so I carefully tossed it back into the muck. That was a mistake, because I wasn't able to catch another one. That one must have told it's little brothers and sisters to avoid my offerings. I suppose I could have used it as "cut bait" (which is a nice way of saying "disassembled bluegill pieces") but I'm not ready for that yet. Seems cruel unless I'm the one eating it. Then again I don't feel that way about cutting up nightcrawlers, so where is the line?

I enjoy night fishing tremendously, especially when the weather is nice. Things are quieter than usual, except for the constant roar of the many expressways that surround our suburb. Sometimes I dream of living somewhere where there isn't an expressway ever few miles, but then I think of how inconvenient that must be. I wonder if I would prefer the convenience or the silence. Not to mention the planes flying overhead every three minutes or so; the pond is due west of one of O'Hare's landing paths, so there are always low-flying planes passing by. Sometimes loudly.

But yes, I still like it- and I also enjoy the new sound of frogs at the pond. I heard at least two different types of frogs croaking. Every time I hear frogs I'm amazed at how freaking loud they are. The whole pond was filled with the sounds of frogs, which helped drown out the expressways and the planes.

The next day, Saturday, I hit the road and headed west. I was standing on the bank the Fox River with my new wading boots 45 minutes after leaving my house. It was a beautiful day- warm enough I immediately took off my jacket and enjoyed wearing short sleeves while wading. Haven't had too many of those occasions since my first time wading back in October.

I walked up to the edge and saw a boil on the surface- I've been seeing a lot of that lately. I think it means big fish chasing smaller fish. I happened to have a black spinnerbait tied on (from the previous night at the pond) so I casually tossed it into the water. One hit, then another; seemed like I was getting stuck on branches.

And then in an erupting of water, a big smallmouth bass came to the surface, shaking it's head at me. From the shore, this looked like the biggest smallie I'd ever hooked into! My drag was set too loose, and it was able to pull out a ton of line. I couldn't keep the tension, especially not standing from the shore. As I admired it's size and tenacity, I noticed the spinner fly out of it's mouth and land on the shore next to me.

Well, that's ok, I thought. Maybe there were more.

After fan-casting the area, I carefully entered the water. Pretty soon I sacrificed my black spinner to the river gods, and tied on a lure that has been successful for me so many times before: The tube jig. Lately it seems the smallies want a very particular color- olive- and will pass up anything darker or lighter. I usually carry a variety of colors, and I've been testing them to see which ones get more hits. Perhaps it's more than just the color, but the smell or the material (I buy various brands indiscriminately) but I feel like it's the color.

And so began one of the most fun times fishing I've had yet this year! Hit after hit, smallies attacking the lure and quickly throwing it out of their mouths. Some came to the surface and I was able to see them. Most stayed down in the water, but I could feel them. I hadn't had this kind of action, well, maybe ever! Even though I wasn't catching any, it sure was fun to spar with strong river bronzebacks.

All of the sudden something changed, and I caught three in a span of ten minutes. Three! Most of my fishing trips this year ended in the skunk, only a few had a a single fish to post; this was excellent. I found them everywhere along the shore. I was standing in a big, extremely slow eddy that was far from the main current or any seams. These fish were just hanging out by the shore, ignoring the seams and current where I have found them in the past. My new buddy Sam Bennett and the internet tell me higher waters will push fish toward the shore, and this certainly was happening. With all the rain we've gotten recently, the Fox was high and strong, and these fish were chilling out feet from the shore.

I was glad they were, because when I tried to get close to any current, the strong flow gave me reason to turn back around and go back to the shore.

One of three nice fish caught on Saturday

All three were about the same size- around 12" and somewhat beefy. I find myself returning them to the water very quickly most of the time, not even thinking about weighing them or measuring them. I was just happy to catch them and return them safely to fight another day. Then again, if I caught a really big one, you can bet your ass I'd bust out the scale so I could brag to the nearest ounce and closest inch.

Another one (this one was fatter)

Just as soon as the smallie-fest began, it stopped, and they weren't hitting my tube anymore. I tried spinners, cranks, some new home-assembled swim jigs (football head jigs.. are those swim jigs?) and good old reliable twister tails, but no more takers. I tried a few other spots; I saw a carp swimming in very shallow water, it's dorsal fin sticking out of the water like a vegetarian shark, but no other fish volunteered to be pulled around the river.

The sun set, and I kept fishing. I really, really, really want to catch a walleye. The main reason is because I haven't done it before. Once I catch one, maybe I'll be satisfied. But until then, every chance I get, I'll be bombarding the river with skinny crankbaits at sunset, looking for Mr. Walter.

I tried casting my cranks along deep holes I had inadvertently discovered earlier. I hear they like holes and trenches. I also tried casting parallel to the banks, because I also hear they like to swim along the shore around sunset. If you've read ahead, you'll notice I don't have a picture of a beautiful walleye and me together. I did not hook into anything else after those smallies, as hard as I tried as night fell.

My last cast was decided for me: I made a hard, long cast downstream. Immediately I heard a small "ping" and watched my little crankbait fly through the air, untethered by any kind of fishing line. It was dark, and the water was rushing all around; I didn't even hear it splash in the water. Another lure sacrificed to the gods of the river, that they may someday permit me to find one of their elusive walleyes.

Sunset

Catfishing on the Chicago River

Ping Tom Park, Chinatown, Chicago

Friday morning I headed downtown early to get in some fishing in before work. I had a recording session to get to at 9am, and found a nice spot on the Chicago river just a few minutes from the studio. Ping Tom Park is in Chinatown, and features a cool looking pagoda and a lot of open grassy space. It also has a whole lot of riverbank to fish.

Leo left me with some nightcrawlers last week, so I figured I'd put them to good use. Ever since I caught that nice bass while leaving a crawler on the bottom, basically unattended, I've been intrigued by that whole style of fishing. Let the fish find the bait, and you just reel them in! Almost all of my fishing has been casting and retrieving lures, so this is new to me. I figured I'd soak some worm on the bottom of the river while I cast some lures, hopefully maximizing my chances of hooking up with some fish.

I rigged it up with some weights on the bottom, and a circle hook about a foot up the line; I tossed it out in the middle of the river, then leaned it on my rod holder while I went to rig my second line.

I started tying on a lure (don't remember what it was... spinner? twister? who knows..) when I noticed my other rod was bouncing and wiggling wildly. I had a fish on!

I dropped my rod, ran over to the first rod, set the hook for good measure (Jeremy Wade style) and began reeling it in. What was on the end of my line might have been the cutest little thing I've ever caught. But please don't tell any hardcore outdoorsmen I used the word "cute" to describe a little baby catfish.

A little kitty

I didn't know what kind of catfish it was (bullhead? channel? I was thinking bullhead...) but I was so happy to catch something on the first cast! [Edit: thanks to the internet and other fishermen, this fish has been identified as a bullhead catfish] And really, you have to admit... this is a cute little fish. Thankfully he was hooked cleanly in the jaw, and was released completely unscathed.

What a great start to a Friday morning. At this point, I was totally satisfied- I'd been dealing with a skunk, and it was nice to get rid of it. A fish is a fish is a fish- normally I don't go for the biggest fish, I just want to catch something. Today I won at catching the smallest fish.

I re-baited the hook, cast it out to the same spot in the middle of the river, and continued preparing my other line. Then it started to rain a little, but not too much. I put up my hood and continued fishing.

This time I watched the rod carefully, trying to figure out if it was getting hits or it was just wind or current. It was difficult, because the rod tip on this particular rod broke off during a previous fishing outing. Difficult, but not impossible- a few minutes later, I had another fish on. This one felt much bigger than the first one, but I had an idea what it was... And I was right!

Another cat

I was starting to really like these catfish. I knew I should learn how to tell them apart... I was pretty sure it wasn't a blue catfish, maybe a bullhead. A yellow bullhead? I'd have to look it up later.

This one was quite feisty, and did it's best to chomp down on my fingers while I got the hook out. I respect that- way to go fish; if somebody hooked my in the lip with a hook, I would also try and bite them. It would serve me right anyway.

After some pictures, I returned catfish #2 to the water, where it swam away gleefully. Maybe not gleefully; catfish seem more grumpy than gleeful, but that's just me.

Soon after that, one of my students showed up. He'd stayed up all night preparing his music for the recording session, and for some reason decided to come fish with me before the session. You may remember Pick from a previous outing at Ogden Slip, where he caught a bunch of fish!

I look angry, but that's my concentrating face

This time we weren't so lucky, as we didn't get any more hits. I worked a twister tail, spinner, crankbaits, and some other stuff while Pick manned the nightcrawler. It started to rain again, harder, and we decided to go get some food before our session.

And just in case you're wondering, I made sure to wash my hands very well so the recording studio didn't smell like river or catfish. I was wearing flannel and hiking boots however, but I think it was assumed I was being a hipster, not coming from a fishing trip.

A nice friday morning Chicago river cat

Chris catches fish on homemade lures

Wanting to take advantage of the incredible weather, I left the house a little early today, my sights set on the pond. My goal: fish exclusively with homemade lures, and catch some fish on them.

The first one I threw out was my first hand-carved lure; my imitation of a jitterbug. I took a spoon from Flaco's Tacos, broke off the spoon part, and screwed it in the front of the lure. I painted the wood with model paint, affixed the screw things that hold on the split rings (eyelets?) by screwing them in by hand, put on the hooks, and added eyes. I spent about 3 hours carving the little piece of balsa wood with an X-acto knife, sanding it down, and carving it some more. And I wasn't even wearing flannel!

My impression of a jitterbug

First cast, I was impressed by the action in the water. I don't understand why, but when I retrieved the lure, it weaved back and forth like a fish. I expected it to just come straight toward me, but I guess the spoon made it wiggle. I realize now it was an extra large spoon, which pushed a TON of water. Watching it, it sure seemed like a good thing- any fish anywhere NEAR the pond could have heard it splashing.

Second cast, it hit the water with a big splash, and I let it sit for a minute. I looked down at my reel, trying to make sure I didn't have any line issues, when I heard a splash. I looked back up at the pond, and my lure was gone! My line started moving. Fish on!!

I knew it was a largemouth- it broke the surface and I saw its profile. I estimated it was 10-12" long, not a huge fish but average for the pond. It was fighting strongly- although nothing like the smallies yesterday. My drag was lose, so as I tried to bring the fish in, I tightened my drag... Maybe that was a mistake. About five feet away from me, my homemade lure in its mouth, suddenly all the tension went away and the fish disappeared into the water. 

It took me a minute to understand what happened. I looked at the end of my line and all that was there was a screw and the spoon, no lure. The short screws in the soft wood were no match for this powerful fish! I stood there, ecstatic that my lure caught a fish, but devastated that a fish was swimming around with a bunch of wood and metal in his mouth, and I couldn't get it out for him. I hoped that  the lure would work itself out his mouth, I'd heard that could happen. I'll admit, I wasn't too happy to immediately lose a lure I'd spent so much time making... On the other hand, I could make more, and I had the knowledge that it would catch fish. Just have to make sure everything is very sturdy.

My torpedo imitation.... not awesome in the water

Next I tied on the other topwater lure I'd carved: this one was supposed to be my impression of a Hedon Torpedo. I carved it, glued aluminum foil, scratched in a scale pattern with a paper clip, added eyes, painted gills, and added the hardware. I'm not going to lie, it looked pretty bad in the water. The propellor blades on either end didn't actually hit the water- the wood sat too high in the water! After a few casts, I decided to go back to the drawing board on this one. The action was lame, if I were a fish I wouldn't be interested.

I unhooked the silver lure and put on another one: yesterday I got the idea to make a lure with a soda can. I cut out some metal from a Coke can in a rough fish-like shape, and ran a wire through it. I used an old torn tube jig for the tail, and again added a scale pattern using a paper clip. I wonder how much of this detail is lost on the fish and only matters to the fisherman.

This looked SWEET in the water

I thought it looked AWESOME in the water! I've never seen a baitfish dying, but this sure looked like how I'd imagine it. The tube jig tail provided an awesome action in the water, and the silver coke can added GREAT flash. I could see it reflecting from deep in the murky water. Only problem was the huge amount of weeds that collected on the lure! I'd have to try this one in open water for sure.

I snapped on my Jackson Pollock Rattler - my first beer cap lure. I drilled two holes in it, attached split rings, put 3 tiny split shots inside it, and folded the cap. Added a tiny treble hook, some nail polish, and that was it. This one did not look amazing in the water, it seemed too heavy... It fell very quickly; I wondered if less weight would provide better action. I wouldn't have to wait too long- I have a few beers a week and have been keeping all the caps.

my Jackson Pollock rattler

Now it was time for the lure I was really excited about- my impression of a Mepps Black Fury. The Black Fury had been very successful for me in lots of water, especially the pond. At the craft store on the weekend I scoured the aisles for bucktail, and ended up buying a pack of fake feathers. At least I think they're fake. I don't have a fancy fly-tying vice; I just held the hook in my hand while I used light wire to tie the feathers on the treble hook. I attached it to a split ring to the hook (the idea was to provide more movement to the dressing) then added the rest of the hardware. One of my new brass bodies, a red bead, a white quick-change clevis, a green bead; then I twisted the top of the wire into an eye.

On my commute I got the idea to use a sharpie to customize my lures, an easy way to draw patterns and add color. At home in my makeshift lure-making workshop (right next to my music-making workshop) I got the idea to take a black sharpie to a brass blade and make a Black Fury-style pattern. I think it looks pretty good!

This casted pretty well and looked incredible in the water. It only took a little pull to get the blade spinning, and the dressed hook moving around in the water even made me hungry. There was a lot of space for movement of the hardware along the wire shaft; I wondered how much that contributed to the great action of my lure. Standing on the pipe watching it move in the water, it seemed pretty similar to a Black Fury... maybe even better.

My imitation of a Mepps Black Fury

I reeled it in, and cast it out again, this time to the middle of the pond. It fell, and then, BAM! Fish on!

There was a giant splash, and from across the pond I saw the outline of a big fish. It was thrashing around, water flying everywhere. A few weeks ago I caught a giant LMB from around the same spot- on a Black Fury #3 - but this fish seemed different.... And I had a hunch on what it was....

My suspicion was confirmed as it broke the water again, and I saw the body of a catfish. A catfish! On a spinner! That I made! AWESOME!

I was giddy with excitement! I hoped it wouldn't break my lure; this was worth a picture for sure. I brought it close to the pipe, and I saw it was a big fish. A BIG fish. I am pretty good a lipping bass and treating them nice so as to not disturb their protective slime coating, but I really can't figure out how to deal with catfish. Especially one this big- I certainly couldn't hold it with one hand. Normally I do everything I can to treat the fish as nice and gently as possible- after all, I am the one who hooked them in the mouth with sharp metal! The least I can do is release them unharmed.

But with a catfish, particularly one this big, I'm at a loss. I suppose the best thing to do might be lay down some a wet garbage bag on the ground, and put the cat on that while I unhook it, perhaps wearing gloves to grip the fish. Today I didn't have a garbage bag, or even gloves. So, as carefully as I could, I placed the catfish on the wet grass, hoping to quickly unhook it, take a picture or two, and return it to the water.

20" catfish caught on my homemade lure

As soon as I set it down I saw that my lure was buried deep in its mouth. I was worried...! Added to that, the fish was incredibly feisty, and never really stopped jumping around. I took a rough measurement, using my rod as a guide.. I estimated this fish to be at least 20," and maybe even fatter than the 24" I caught two weekends ago at the same spot. Trying to hold the fish still between my legs- completely aware of the toxin-filled dorsal fin inches from my ankles, as well as the sharp treble hook inside the angry fish's mouth- I tried to unhook the beast. Tentatively putting my hand in its mouth, certainly not forgetting what happened the last time I put my hand in a catfish's mouth, I did everything I could do to get the lure out... to no avail. It looked like only one of the hooks was actually in the fish, but it was in there pretty good.

After spending a great deal of time trying to get my lure out of this amazing fish, I realized it just wasn't going to happen. The longer the fish was out of water, in the grass, its slime coming off, the worse off it would be. I hoped that the lure would work itself out. I was beside myself; I felt so bad for hurting this fish, and even worse for not being able to remove my hardware. I guess that's part of fishing- the goal of the sport is to grab fish with sharp objects; there's no way around that. I certainly don't want to inflict pain on fish for the sake of dishing out pain, but normally I can live with hooking fish in the lip. This case was not so cut and dry, and I felt bad.

As carefully as I could, I carried the fish over to the water, and put it in the water. Without any hesitation, it splashed and returned to the deep, my awesome lure attached.

I had to leave to catch my train. As I collapsed my rod and put my tackle box back in my backpack, I worried about my catfish friend... On the other hand, everything I've heard and read has told me catfish are survivors- maybe there was a good chance this one would be ok.

I made it, and it caught a fish!

24" Catfish caught on topwater! And a nice largemouth

Leo and his first Illinois fish

After we consumed many huge slices of Chicago-style deep dish pizza, Leo suggested we go back out to fish. It was about 10 or 10:30pm I think, but it seemed like a great idea to me. I put my long underwear and warm clothes back on, we grabbed our gear from the mini, and walked off into the darkness headed for the pond.

I've fished the retention pond many many times, often on the way to or from the train on my commute.. But I'd never fished it at night. It was about 45°F outside, a little bit of light coming from the waxing (?) moon, but we had a headlamp and a flashlight between us. After a short 1/2 mile walk, we arrived at the spot- really the only access to the pond not protected by a thick wall of tall grasses - and began casting. Leo stood on the pipe - the prime spot on the pond, and I stood a little to the left, on what I think is a pipe that the other way. The other day I'd seen water running into it, which was a new thing.

I knew there were many many bass in the pond, and hoped Leo could hook into some! A silver roostertail on the end of his line, he began casting. I opened my tacklebox to choose my weapon- I found my go-to night-fishing lure: a big black spinnerbait. As I was tying a big'ol' palomar knot, I heard splashes and saw Leo had a fish on. I dropped my rod and turned on my headlamp, and ran over to Leo and his fish.

Leo unhooking his catch in the dark

After a short fight, he got it out of the water. A bass! Not the biggest largemouth to come out of there, but definitely not the smallest (I had the dubious honor of catching the smallest a few days back - that 4" largemouth that took my homemade inline spinner). It's always hard taking pictures in the dark, but of course we always have to document each catch. Leo's first Illinois fish! It was also his first fish on an inline spinner. This pond is good for firsts- I was so happy Leo got a fish, and his $5 for a 24 hour fishing license had been put to good use.

I began casting the black spinnerbait into the darkness, waiting for the plop and then reeling it in. Leo mentioned how strange it is not being able to see your lure or where it lands. Night fishing is a strange thing. A few months ago I snuck into a secret location, threw a very similar black spinnerbait and hooked into the biggest bass I'd ever seen. Fighting it in the dark (this was before I had a headlamp) was a strange and new experience for me, and it was relatively difficult. I ended up landing the beast, and taking a few subpar pictures of it on my iPhone camera.

Back to the pond, I was quickly tiring of cleaning off pounds of weeds from my spinner. I decided to switch to topwater, mostly to avoid all the weeds below the surface. I also knew that topwater could be a successful night-fishing technique, but never had too much luck with it. I grabbed my white and blue jitterbug (I had the black one somewhere and would have chosen that, but couldn't find it just then) and tied it to my line. At least that would float on the top and avoid all the weeds! Maybe it would catch a nice bass too.

Leo switched to a nightcrawler under a bobber, in the hopes of catching something else- perhaps a bluegill (which I hadn't seen here in weeks) or a catfish. I'd heard there were catfish in there, but I'd never caught any or seen any swimming around in the dirty brown water. Perhaps they'd come out at night?

I cast out my jitterbug, waited about 10-15 seconds, then slowly reeled it in, stopping it every few feet and letting it sit. Leo casted out his crawler-bobber rig right in front of the pipe. We were astonished nothing was biting it! As we talked about the lack of action with the live bait, I absent-mindedly cast my jitterbug out, letting it sit motionless for long periods of time because I was staring at Leo's bobber. It didn't make sense- where did all the bluegill go? Why weren't any bass taking the nightcrawler? Weren't there supposed to be catfish out at night? It was strange. I began to get sleepy, losing focus, and thinking about my belly full of delicious Giordano's pizza.

There was an incredibly huge splash to my left, out in the water- "Whoa!!" I yelled. So there were fish here! I was excited that there was some activity, and even more excited when I heard my drag screaming and realized whatever caused the splash was on the end of my line. "Fish! Fish! FISH!" I yelled. My drag filled the air with agonizing sounds of its buzzing, the monster on my line thrashing around, jumping, like a cannonball being repeatedly dropped in the water. My heart raced, I was suddenly completely awake. I hoped my 10 pound line wouldn't snap, and the monster fish wouldn't throw the hook.

"Please don't throw the hook, please don't throw the hook," I said, not sure if I said it out loud or not.

I brought in the fish closer, my rod becoming a horseshoe instead of a straight line. At first I thought this was a big largemouth, but the way it was fighting was not like other largemouths. And it was strong- VERY strong. I strained to see the fish, but my leadlamp was off and there was very little ambient light. I couldn't see what it was.

I managed to bring it closer to shore, about 2 feet in front of me, but I paused before lifting it out of the water. I still couldn't tell what kind of fish it was. I was seriously worried my line - or rod!- would break as soon as I pulled up to get this guy out of the water. Throwing caution to the wind, I lifted my rod up, feeling the full weight of this beast on my line, and successfully got the fish on land. Normally I try not to let fish touch the ground, lest their protective slime coating get brushed off - I want these fish to survive, and grow bigger! I wasn't prepared for the weight of this fish, and it dropped down onto the ground.

Even now, as Leo hurried over with a flashlight, I still didn't know what it was. My best guess was still a big bass.. And then Leo shined his light on the fish I'd just caught:

Catfish!!
Note the size of the jitterbug. This was a big fish, at least for me

A catfish!!!????

I was shocked. I thought back to my jitterbug- a topwater lure that floats on the surface. I let it sit, motionless, for at least 20-30 seconds as I stared over at Leo's bobber. I wasn't providing any action to the lure, and that's when the fish struck! Not only that, but everything I knew about catfish is they have a tremendous sense of smell and taste, prefer real bait (dead or alive), and most importantly hang out at the BOTTOM. I knew this pond pretty well- the spot where the cat smashed into my lure was at least 4-5 feet deep, if not more. That meant either the cat was cruising the surface, or was enticed up by my lure. My non-smelly, plastic and metal lure, sitting completely still on the surface. Crazy!

Either way, I'd never heard of anyone catching a catfish on a topwater lure!!

With Leo's help, after a few tense moments we were able to get the treble hooks out of the monster's mouth. We were able to get them out without hurting the fish too much, something I was thankful for considering it was sitting on the ground while we de-hooked it. In my wildest dreams I never thought I would catch a big catfish like this fishing topwater! I had toyed with the idea of doing some catfishing at the pond, but I would have brought some garbage bags or something to set catfish on to remove the hooks.

We stood there admiring the fish. I was incredibly excited, pretty sure I jumped up and down a lot, and a huge amount of celebratory profanity escaped from my mouth.

I didn't have a ruler on me; we positioned Leo's tackle box in such a way that we might be able to figure out the length later... Then I realized I had tape at 24" on my rod. I taped it there a few weeks ago, 24" being the legal limit for northern pike. Perfect!

I held the rod next to the giant catfish, and it turned out to be exactly 24". Awesome!

At this point, I knew what I had to do- I needed to do the classic big catfish pose for the camera! Being mostly a bass fisherman, the way I usually hold fish is by lipping them- I didn't even think about holding the catfish horizontally for the picture- maybe that would have been better for the fish.

At any rate, I reached down, trying to get my fingers inside the gigantic and muscular catfish mouth. Could this be a bad idea? Putting my fingers in its mouth? Ah what the heck. It will make an awesome picture. I finally was able to get my fingers in its mouth, its thick gums like sandpaper, scraping on my thumbs. I lifted it up, and was amazed at its weight- even the biggest bass I'd ever caught I could lift with one hand... I could barely support this guy with two arms!! I had no idea how much it weighed- no scale yet - but it was a lot.

I gave Leo my phone, and he got ready to take a picture... But my headlamp was on, washing out the pictures. I asked him to turn off my headlamp, of course my hands were busy inside the mouth of a huge angry catfish. My headlamp is weird and has a turn knob for the light, and Leo was trying to press the button (which of course does nothing). I was so concerned trying not to drop the fish I couldn't put into words how to turn off my light.

I put down the fish for a minute, turned off the light, and picked it up again. Leo snapped some pictures, we both chuckled, we couldn't wait to show this to our wives!

24" of pond catfish- caught topwater on a jitterbug

Right after the last picture, as if on cue, the fish strongly bit down on my fingers, causing me to drop it into the grass. Its rough mouth ripped into my skin, causing one of my thumbs to start bleeding. I think some more bad words happened around this point.

I had it coming

After hooking the beast with some sharp pointy hooks, dropping it on the ground, and generally greatly inconveniencing this mighty fish, I didn't blame it for biting me. It had every right to bite me, and was surprised it hadn't earlier. In fact, I had it coming to me.

I figured at this point we were even.

Applying pressure to my thumb, the bleeding stopped quickly. It was time to get our friend back into the water. Leo offered to pick up the fish and get it back into the water - I wasn't exactly jumping at the chance to put my smashed fingers back in its mouth. Now that's a real fishing partner. Leo picked up the fish, and carefully returned it to the water. In an instant, with a powerful splash of its muscular tail, it was gone into the dark water.

This fish had been the longest, heaviest fish I'd ever landed.

With Leo's help, we got the hooks out, got some great pictures taken, and returned the fish to the water, seemingly healthy and doing fine. I definitely couldn't have done it alone! I probably wouldn't have left my lure motionless on the surface if it weren't for Leo's bobber. Thanks Leo!

We fished for a while longer, but got no more hits, no more splashes, and no more bass or monster catfish. All in all, a great day fishing; I'm glad Leo talked me into some pond night fishing! As we walked back to my house, I cradled my throbbing thumb, so happy to have a fish-inflicted wound.

I feel like a real fisherman now.

Morning bass derby at the pond

this one was a hog!

I was going to stop by the pond on my walk home from the train last night, but when I opened my backpack to get my rod, I realized I left it at home. Undeterred, I decided to return in the morning.

Condititions

Air temp: 63°F

Wind: none

Pressure: 29.85" and rising

Clouds: none 

Another chunky bluegill from the pond

I arrived at 6:55am, and started casting (nightcrawlers with bullet weight). The sun was up, but it was blocked by trees to the east, so the majority of the pond was still dark. I watched the surface of the water- I didn't see any bait fish, but I saw TONS of big wakes... everywhere. On about the third cast, I hooked into one of the chunky bluegill the inhabit the pond.

I wondered if those wakes were all fat bluegill like this one. I'm getting better at reading the water, but I've got a ways to go. I paid more attention, and occasionally saw a wake head into an area, then tons of bubbles on the surface. Big fish eating little fish? Probably!

Before each cast, I stood on the pipe and watched the surface, trying to locate my quarry. I didn't have to wait long, because every 5-10 seconds I would see the wakes and cast. The water is so cloudy I couldn't see the fish even though I think they were right at the surface. Even with my fancy polarized glasses I couldn't tell what they were.

And then I hooked into a fish- bigger than a bluegill - and it gave me a GREAT fight! Jumped out of the water a few times, spun around, went swimming like a torpedo looking for any cover- but my flimsy collapsible rod prevailed, and I landed my first bass of the day!

Nice bass!

A VERY nice looking fish, dark and vibrant coloring (due to the bad water clarity?) When it first broke the surface, I wondered if I had hooked a catfish it was so dark. Out of the water, it was obviously not. A great before-work bass, about 9" long, looked like his belly was on it's way to being full.

I snapped some pics, completely satisfied with my outing, and I was only 10 minutes into it. I carefully placed the beautiful fish back in the water, and after a second it got it's bearings and darted back to the depths.

I thought I would try some artificials- I knew there were bass around, and it would be cool if I didn't have to burn through my supply of worms. Also, in my very limited experience, it seems that bigger bait really does catch bigger fish, and nightcrawlers on a hook can only get so big. In addition, I wasn't after bluegill, which I knew were everywhere- I wanted bass.

Naturally I tied on my magical green tube jig. Maybe this shouldn't have been my first choice, but I'd caught many bass in similar water under similar conditions. Even though the bottom wasn't rocky as far as I could tell (maybe not the best habitat for crawfish) I thought I would give it a shot. These bass seemed hungry, so I'd give them something bigger!

After a few casts, I snagged. I didn't rig the tube weedless, I actually did a pretty shabby texas-rig so the hook kept popping out of the tube. I didn't have any of the weighted jigs with me, otherwise I would have used one of those. When I yanked a little on the line, the tube started to swim away in the opposite direction. Fish on!! Sneaky fish!

This one gave quite a show as well, doing a few jumps and somersaults out of the water, and I brought it in. It was another largemouth, bigger than the other! It was longer - 10-11", and fatter.

This one's been enjoying the bluegill sushi buffet

Awesome! 2 bass in 15 minutes, this was pretty great fishing. I thought back of getting skunked at Busse more times than I could count, after driving, waiting in line, parking, and walking to my spot. This pond was literally on my way to work, 5 minutes from my house and 5 minutes from my train. I would have never guessed this dirty, polluted looking pond filled with runoff and the occasionally oil slick on the surface would hold any fish, let alone healthy-looking good-sized bass.

I continued watching the surface to let me know where to cast, and this technique was working. Another fish on the line! I think anglers call this "dialing in;" finding a pattern or technique that works on a given body of water under certain conditions, and exploiting that knowledge to catch fish. I was definitely dialing in this pond. This bass was definitely the feisty-ist of the lot; he swam faster and jumped twice as much as the previous bass. I got him out the water, and he shook like CRAZY! The fight was not unlike the small steelheads I caught a few weeks back.

this one had some chompers

...And this one had TEETH! I always grab bass by their bottom lip, which tends to subdue them and allow me to snap some pictures without dropping them. Of course all bass have little teeth-type things along their mouth, but I've NEVER actually hurt myself on them. Usually they are small and dull, seemingly more for gripping than biting. Not this one! These teeth were pointy and numerous, and actually cut into my thumb the way little cactus needles would (anybody cook nopales aka cactus paddles?) It didn't hurt, it was just surprising.

I snapped some pics, and brought the fighter over and returned him to the water. I'm fairly positive that I hadn't caught the same bass more than once, and I didn't think any of these were bass I caught earlier in the week. I'd been trying to remember specific marks on each bass, and I think they were all different. That's a lot of bass in a small pond!

At one point I counted at least 10 distinct wakes right in front of me that I was pretty sure were all bass. 10! And that's only fish within casting distance of my spot- who knows how many there are in the rest of the pond.

Now that I was catching bass regularly, I thought I would try another lure. Maybe I should have stuck with what was working, but I was curious if they would hit a buzzbait harder, or not at all.

Turns out, not at all. They weren't interested. I switched back to my lucky tube, and proceeded to catch more bass! By the end of my outing, I had caught a total of 6 largemouth bass all between 9" and 14." Some of them were valiant warriors, others were just dead weight on my line. I looked at my phone, and it was time to go. I packed up my rod, put my gear in my backpack, and hopped on my bike.

While I was waiting for the train, I called the park district to find out about the pond- I wanted to know if they stock it, and what they put in there. I was pretty sure they stocked it with bluegill. Turns out, they stock it with bluegill, crappie, and catfish. Not bass. (It's interesting they stock crappie, because I haven't caught a single crappie mixed in with all that bluegill.)

How did the bass get there!!? This pond is definitely man-made, and I'm pretty sure it was recently drained... So the fish in there haven't been in there for long. I've heard theories about fish eggs getting stuck on birds, who transport them to new waters; or fish moving from water to water during flooding... I really don't know how all these bass got there, but the massive numbers of bluegill seem to be the perfect forage for these pond bass. They seem healthy, and based on what I know about bass, they are definitely more than a year old. That means that either they only recently got into the pond, or they can survive the winter.

Another awesome short and sweet outing on my commute! This is actually a record for number of bass caught; the only other time I've caught this many bass is on a cloudy day at Busse, when I caught 6 largemouths in 2 hours. I was hoping to beat my record with a 7th bass, but the bite dried up and I had to go to work.

But don't worry, pond-bass friends, I'll be back.

One of six bass from this morning