Big Busse Bass

Thanks to NATO, I ended up enjoying a four day weekend. Friday and Monday work was closed due to the big hullabaloo, which gave me plenty of time for fishing. Friday I hit a variety of waters, Saturday and Sunday we camped (and I caught that giant 28"+ drum) and Monday I had a hankering for some kayak fishing. Exhausted from camping and hiking, Claire and I both were asleep before our heads hit the pillows Sunday night... but my alarm was set for 4:30 am.

°°°

When I wake up at 4, usually it takes about 30 seconds for me to remember why the hell I'm awake at 4 in the freaking morning... Then I remember, run downstairs to make coffee, then head back upstairs to get dressed. Yes, that's right, I make coffee before I put clothes on. Priorities.

I loaded the kayak, waders, wading boots, paddles, rods, and all other gear in record time. (Keep in mind it takes me at least one full cup of coffee to be coherent at all, so I always have to allow time for that to happen.) I arrived at Busse at exactly 5:23am, sipping my coffee and pleasantly surprised to see the gate open. I rolled in, unpacked, loaded the yak, and was in the water in a few short minutes.

The kayak

Why did I choose Busse, the water that keeps skunking? I suppose I could have kayaked the Fox, or some other body of water, but I really like kayaking at Busse. In some ways I know that water the best, I've fished it more than any other (except maybe the retention pond), and I have a special love/hate relationship with it.

In the past, I usually fished my usual spots when I was in the kayak. This time, I decided to fish primarily spots that are inaccessible to shore fishing, capitalizing on the fact I was in a kayak. As I began paddling, the sun began to rise and I noticed the water was extremely clear. Usually there is only a few inches of visibility in this water, but today I could see almost to the bottom. I don't know what caused the drastic change, but I sure enjoyed it.

I paddled, fished, paddled, fished some more, every now and then drinking my coffee and eating trail mix. The other reason I chose Busse is because I really wanted to go kayaking, the fishing was only something to do while kayaking. It didn't really matter if I caught any fish, and I didn't really expect to.

I worked my way along shorelines, throwing many different lures. Being able to see the bottom, the weeds, the structure; it was amazing. Usually Busse's water is like chocolate milk, but today it was more like lemonade. Out of the corner of my eye I saw some movement, got out of the kayak to fish (I was wearing waders) and was soon surrounded by tons of little bluegill. None of them would bite, and neither would any bass hiding nearby hoping for a bluegill snack.

I kept moving, following the shoreline. All of the sudden I noticed there was a steep dropoff, many weeds, and suddenly a giant bass calmly swam under my kayak headed for deeper water. Whoa! I cast out my 3" tan tube jig in it's general direction, and immediately the bass swallowed it up. Fish on!

This was my second largemouth bass in the kayak, and it was a big one. It fought me with pure force. Headshakes, topwater splashes; it tried to swim under my kayak. Somehow I managed to keep it hooked and bring it close to the kayak where I could lip it. Filled with adrenaline and excitement, I quickly took a few pictures and placed it back in the water. With a powerful tail thrust it covered me in water. Serves me right!

Busse bass!

That was awesome. It was the first largemouth I'd successfully landed in the kayak- the other one (at Busse a few months ago) threw the hook when I couldn't keep the tension.

Then I saw a school, more like a swarm of little tiny fish slowly swimming in a circle. I'd google image searched this before, I was pretty sure it was a bunch of fry (baby fish). Suddenly I felt horrible; did I catch the mom bass while she was supposed to be watching the kids?

But wait, I thought the males guarded the nests... And the little fish didn't really look like bass at all. Either way, I was happy the big female got away perfectly fine. Only out of the water for about a minute, she swam away immediately.

I let the wind push me along the shore, my polarized sunglasses revealing all kinds of cool stuff in the water. The normally hidden branches, weeds, holes, dropoffs. rocks, moss, and even tons of little bluegill were easily visible to me. Then I noticed what I was positive were spawning beds. I'm not entirely sure what they look like, but they were clearly areas where something had cleared away debris and made little round indentations in the gravel and sand.

Reading reports lately, there seems to be some disagreement on whether one should fish bass beds or not. Obviously, messing with the females- the ones in charge of making the eggs- could be detrimental to the bass population. On the other hand, I've had a very hard time getting them to bite the few times I've seen them literally on their beds. I decided to keep fishing, although perhaps I'll be scorned by other fishermen...

Soon after the first, I hooked into another beast! This one was even bigger, even stronger, and went straight for deep water. That helped my hookset tremendously, and I carefully brought her aboard and admired the fine specimen of a bass.

Number 2! I guessed around 20 inches, at least

I thought of all those times I'd been to Busse and left without even a bite... when all along, these fish are in there. Big bass; big, fickle bass. Maybe it's the kayak, maybe most largemouth anglers don't throw tubes, maybe it's because I was way off the beaten path. Either way, I was having a thoroughly fun Monday morning.

Almost immediately I hooked into another one, about the same size. I got it to the boat, and noticed the hook was barely in the lip. As I reached over to lip her, the bass exerted her considerable strength and threw the hook. Fair enough, I'm still going to count it as "caught." I'll just call it a "self-release" a la Ken G.

I kept fishing, kept watching the water, kept learning about what's under the surface at Busse. It was amazing. I didn't know how long the clear water would last, but I wanted to get everything I could out of it before it went back to chocolate milk. I found an area close to shore where there must have been fifty bluegill darting around. None of them looked particularly big, but it certainly looked like they were on spawning beds. I didn't know whose beds though... were the bluegill raiding bass beds? Were the bluegill themselves spawning? I didn't know. Still don't know. Need to learn more.

Spawning beds?

Nothing very interesting happened after that... I found some lures. Cleaned up some fishing line and trash. I saw a dead crappie, which was sad to see but enlightening, as I'd never caught a crappie at Busse before. Apparently they're in there. Farther down the shore I saw a dead carp. Neither fish had any obvious wounds, I wondered how they kicked the bucket.

After a really great time on the water with some fish I can definitely be proud of, I headed back to shore. In a few short minutes the boat was back on my car, my gear in the trunk, and I was on the way to lunch with the wife. A great Monday morning.

Fishing with a six year old

Trip 1: Night at the pond

Leo with his nice bass

Last weekend we had some family in town- the Smerglia's were visiting. You may remember Leo from such fishing adventures as the big catfish caught on topwater last October, or the big smallie caught earlier that day, or the white perch caught in Lake Erie... We've done a lot of fishing together! We had a handful of short trips the past weekend. It's been a few days, so my memory's a little foggy, but I figured I should document our adventures.. You know, for posterity.

Thursday Leo and I made the "hike" (a short walk on sidewalk) to the neighborhood pond for some night fishing. It was relatively cold, but not to cold to fish. After the short walk, we stood on the bank of the pond and started casting out our lures in the dark.
Leo was the first to connect with a fish- throwing a skinny crank, he beat the skunk for our fishing duo with a nice bass.

Naturally I switched to the closest thing I had to his lure, which turned out to be a $2 medium-diving crank from Meijer. Pretty soon I also landed a nice fish!

Should have used the flash...

All we caught after that were weeds.

Trip 2: Daytime at the pond

Charlie and a monster

Fishing with a six-year-old can be difficult at times... Charlie has an uncanny knack for knotting his fishing line in the most unusual and difficult-to-untangle ways! As frustrating as it can be to fix his line after every cast (let's be honest, Leo did most of that...) the shrieks of joy when he landed a fish make it all worth it!

Leo and I didn't do to bad either, each ending up with some fish. Well, I ended up with just one... but it was pretty nice. Hey a fish is a fish, I'd rather catch a fish than no fish! We visited Busse earlier in the day with nothing to show for it, so it was nice to feel like fishermen again.

Trip 3: The next day at the pond

Leo, Charlie and I headed back to the pond for another short trip- and hey, we managed to catch some fish! Charlie caught a ton of fish, some of them completely by himself. Some of them he needed a little "assistance" shall we say... A common phrase heard on the water was "Charlie, watch your bobber- it's moving!"

One of them was especially chunky and had some spiky chompers to boot.

Fat and toothy!

Trying something new, I put a nightcrawler on a circle hook, added a pair of heavy weights, and cast it out to the middle of the pond with my ultralight. I immediately realized how hard it is to cast with a short rod! It took a few tries to launch by bait out there, but eventually I got it out far enough. I loosened the drag, set down my rod, and headed back to the other side of the pond where Leo and Charlie were slaying'em.

Nice work (one of MANY fish)

And then, watching Charlie fish, Leo said "hey did you see that fish jump? isn't that over by your rod?" I looked over, just missing the sight of a bass jumping clear out of the water. That's when I started running! I'd positioned my rod far away from us so we wouldn't hook into it, but now there was a fish on and it seemed very far away.

And then... I reeled it in, and there was a bass on the hook!

Charlie helped me hold the giant bass I caught

Trip 4: Sunday morning

Leo and I headed out early, 6-year-old-less, on a mission to catch some more fish. The problem was it stormed the night before, and we didn't know how the fish would react. I was going to take us to Songbird Slough, but at the last minute we headed to Wooddale Grove. Pretty sure they stocked it last weekend with rainbow trout, maybe there were still some left.

Turns out, for whatever reason, the fish were completely uncooperative. The weeds were insane. The wind was torrential. We found a school of little bluegill, you know, those fish who ALWAYS bite. We could see down in the water, and put nightcrawlers right in front of their faces- and they just looked at it. They clearly saw it, and a few took tiny nibbles, but getting any bites was like pulling teeth. Somehow managed to hook two monsters (6" or less). We cut our losses and headed to the pond.

Almost immediately Leo had a fish interested! He was throwing a firetiger spoon, and almost landed a bass- maybe it fell short of the lure. We couldn't get it to react again. We worked our way around the pond, trying to avoid the massive quantities of weeds, but it was no use. After a while nature was calling and we headed home.

A great bunch of trips, some real nice fish, and good times. Next time we'll have to catch one of those monster pond cats...

Saturday on the creek

The view from the water
This is why I go outside!

It was Saturday, and it wasn't a blizzard or thunderstorm, so I went out fishing.

Sometimes can't figure out how I choose where to go. This morning was no different- somehow the idea of wading Salt Creek near my house popped into my head. So I got suited up and headed to a spot where I could get in the water.

After my first cast, I realized I wouldn't be satisfied with this... At this stretch, the creek was mostly about a foot deep, and there was next to no structure. Just muddy flats. Since my kayak happened to be strapped to my car, parked a short walk away, the choice was obvious.

I paid no attention to the strange looks I got from local residents as I took my kayak down and got it ready to go. I quickly carried it to the creek, slid down the steep grassy bank, and was back in the water. I carefully pulled the kayak down, easing it next to me in the water.

My new plan was to kayak up to Busse (Busse, the skunk that keeps on skunking me) and fish the Arlington pool. Supposedly there were pike and walleye in there, which just so happened to be on my fishing "to do" list. I hopped in the kayak and started paddling. Only recently have I started kayaking wearing my waders, and I have to say it's simply amazing. Paddle, stop, wade, fish, paddle some more, wade; it's just great.

Salt Creek @ Arlington Heights Road
(All I could think of was the musky caught here a while ago...)

I slowly made my way up to Arlington Heights road, passing a variety of interesting things. There seemed to be at least ten baseball games going on on the east bank, and there was a baseball floating in the water. I picked it up and plopped it in my yak. Lately trash and debris have really been bothering me. I'm not sure what exactly got me this way; perhaps spending a lot of time on the Fox and other mostly pristine areas makes me hyper-sensitive to trash where I'm fishing. I don't just like fishing, I like fish and birds and otters and beavers and all the other creatures that live around water; I want to catch fish, but I also want these animals to have a nice place to live. Sometimes I wonder how certain trash got in the water (a giant beach ball I found today and somehow stuck in my kayak) and other times I know (fishing line caught in trees near fishy-looking spots).

The other day at the pond, I spent a little while cleaning up a ton of trash. I just got tired of it sitting there, and thought I should do something about it since there's a good chance I use the pond more than anybody else. To my dismay, most of the trash was fishing-related stuff; discarded line, hook packages, and the most offensive to me, a six pack of empty beer cans just thrown into the weeds. What the hell, people.

But I digress... Back to the paddle: At one point something was swimming along next to my kayak, just below the surface. At first I thought it might be an otter, but I watched and it never surfaced for air. It didn't seem like a carp, and all I could think of is it was the elusive Salt Creek muskie. Probably not, but that's what stuck in my head.

Finally I made it to Busse, and there must have been 15 people standing on the east shore, fishing. This was one of those moments when I loved kayak fishing. The west side of the pool is relatively hard to access, and I had it all to myself. I pulled out a rope, tied it to a stump, and started fishing.

I noticed a dead fish floating near some downed branches and fishing line. Not having any luck fishing, I decided to investigate. It was a walleye! And a nice sized one too. There was a ton of monofilament fishing line everywhere, and a couple of heavy jigs caught in the branches. I wondered if these had caused the death of this fine specimen of a fish. It ocurred to me I would be beside myself if I caught a walleye that size. At least this confirms they do in fact inhabit these waters...

Fairly positive it's a walleye...
Not sure what killed it, but the fishing line everywhere doesn't help

Then I got upset, and noticed the jungle of fishing line that was covering branches everywhere. I remembered a previous trip to this pool where I found a dead goose wrapped in a mess of fishing line. I decided to do something about it. I went branch to branch, untangling as much line as I could. Some of the line was too high for me to reach, but much of it was kayak-level. After about a half hour, I had rid the whole area of most of the unsightly and dangerous (to animals) fishing line.

That's a lot of line

And not only that, but I found a ton of lures in the process!

I find a lot of lures while fishing...
...Then again, I also lose a lot of lures

I'm particularly interested in this yellow one. I did some googling, and I think it might be a Hellin Flatfish. It looks almost handmade. Either that, or really old. Regardless, I like it! It has a nice wobble to it in the water.

I don't have any lures like this one

A shore fisherman mentioned to me he got some bites on leeches, which got me back to fishing. I didn't have any leeches, but I did have a leech-like worm I texas-rigged. No takers. I decided to head back downstream.

I saw a bunch of little fish eating caddis flies (I think that's what they are) on the surface of the water. The other day on the Fox there were about a million of these little tiny moths everywhere. I tied on a little jig'n'twister to see if I could catch one, whatever they were. I got tons of little hits, but no commitments. Based on what I've been reading, I thought they might be creek chubs.

As I paddled down the river, I got perplexed looks from people doing yard work in their yards, which of course backed up to the creek. I said "Hello," and they stared back looking at me strangely. When I passed under another bridge, some high school girls saw me and thought it was hilarious I'd be fishing in the creek. I'm not sure what's so hilarious... don't they know there might be a muskie in there!!??

Although I didn't catch any fish, it was a great paddle- it turned out to be a beautiful day, I helped clean up some trash, and got some awesome new lures!

Busse strikes again

This late afternoon I decided to head back out. I guess the decision wasn't that hard, considering my recent fishing activity. I've been trying to find some more good water close to home, and picking apart the area via google earth, I realized the east branch of the Dupage River was about 20 minutes south of my house. There are smallies in the Dupage. I suppose I could have driven further south, but I really wanted to find a spot closer to my house where I could catch fish while wading.

East Branch of the Dupage River near Glendale Heights

I drove to a spot, waders on, walked to the river, walked in, and sunk down into muck. The river there was about 10' wide, 2' deep, and the bottom was pure mud and muck. As I stood there, I sunk down deeper as if I were in quicksand. There was no way I could wade this, and I doubted there would be fish in this stretch. I cut my losses and decided to head somewhere else. I still had my waders on, after all.

Why did I choose Busse? Busse, the lake that skunks me again and again, and only rarely gives me a fish or two? I'm not sure, even now. I like Busse, and I don't know why. Maybe I had hope from recent fishing reports of some people having luck there. I strapped the kayak to my roof, and was in the Busse's south pool in a matter of minutes.

As I was loading up the yak, somehow my pliers fell out of an open pocket in my fishing vest and sunk to the bottom of the lake. There was no way I could get them back in the 10'+ chocolate milk-like water.

I did a slow paddle around the big island in the south pool, and spent a long time trying to find a deep hole I've seen from depth maps. I threw crankbaits, wacky worms, rat-l-traps, and variety of other lures, but in classic Busse fashion, no takers. By the time I reached south shore, the clouds had intensified, and the temperature had come down a little. It was downright cold!

One of the nice things about being in a kayak is animals generally don't realize I'm there until I'm very close. This gives me the chance to see a lot of things up close and personal, like this duck that was about 10' from my kayak.

Busse duck, very close to my kayak

I worked the shoreline, following the island's shore before I paddled back to the boat launch. Occasionally I saw tell-tale mud clouds in the water, meaning I probably scared a bunch of carp as I paddled by. I'll definitely have to do some carp fishing at Busse... There are so many of them! I saw a bunch of other people fishing, but couldn't tell if they were catching anything. I half expected to be skunked at Busse, but it was ok. I really like kayaking, and if I'm going to kayak I might as well fish.

Skunked, skunked, and skunked again

In an effort to take advantage of the amazing temperatures we were having, I've been fishing like a madman. Unfortunately, I don't have much to show for it in terms of fish caught. Reading reports on Windy City Fishing leads me to believe I might be the only one not catching huge numbers of fish! Alas, I figure the more I fish, the better I'll get, and eventually I'll be able to land many fish per outing.

On the other hand, because I seem to get skunked so often, it's incredibly exciting for me to land even one fish! I'm still very new to fishing, and I still get a huge thrill landing even the dinkiest baby of a fish.

Since I haven't been catching much, I decided to condense all my recent trips into one post. Here goes...

WEDNESDAY 3-21-2012 - The Pond

the pond at night

I decided to try night fishing the pond, I wondered if the higher-than-normal daytime temperatures might entice a bite out of the bass there. I read some reports of other fisherman having nighttime success, so I headed out to the pond. Long story short, nada. It was a great time, a very nice air temperature, and it was very relaxing to cast in the dark. There were a few splashes near me, but the bass weren't interested.

Every now and then I heard a very strange sound, and I listened carefully to figure out what it was. Eventually I realized it was a bug zapper at a house across the pond. ZAP! ZAPZAPZAP! Some bugs were meeting their maker.

I also heard (and saw glimpses of) bats flying around the pond, probably enjoying a feast of newly hatched bugs. I definitely appreciated their handiwork, since I wasn't being bothered by any bugs whatsoever. It's very cool to hear bats chirping as they fly through the darkness; as they flew around me their chirps were moved across my stereo image (it's an audio thing) which was very interesting!

THURSDAY 3-22-2012 - Salt Creek

Three herons (I think)

The next day I had some time on my way home from work, and I decided to check out a new stretch of Salt Creek. The creek runs north to south near my house; I think Busse was created by damming it up. The creek flows from Busse down through a variety of industrial and residential areas, before eventually meeting up with the Desplaines River (I think, I'm still mapping it in Google Earth). I saw a huge number of minnows (maybe some were tadpoles?) and found a very nice kayak/canoe launch. Will definitely have to kayak from here sometime.

Stood on the bank for about an hour, throwing a variety of lures with no takers. Up closer to Busse, the creek definitely seems like a creek.. But down here, it is a little wider, and seems like a small river. I'm sure there are game fish in this stretch, just have to figure out how to catch them...

FRIDAY 3-23-2012 - Busse Lake


Had some time after work, so I headed to Busse for about an hour. On my way I stopped at Dick's to pick up some stuff, including a red craw-pattern rat-L-trap, which has been killing it in the area on bass.

Second cast, I hook the craw on a rock, and somehow manage to break my braided line. What the hell, Busse!? Well that's $5 I'll never get back. I need to figure out how to make rat L traps.

There were two guys fishing right on the dam on the main pool side; I couldn't quite figure out what they were going for. It looked like they were casting right into the pool under the small dam, but they didn't seem to be catching anything. I wondered if any fish were gathering under the dam.

the north pool dam at Busse

Saw another guy shore fishing in one of my favorite spots, and he was getting bite after bite on a worm/salamander/creature softbait. It was great to see someone getting action at Busse! He managed to catch at least one when I was there.

After a while I had to go, but I'd be back... I wanted in on the action.

SATURDAY 3-24-2012 - Busse Lake

it was foggy

I've been eager to get the kayak out since January. Finally the time had come! Friday night I loaded up the kayak on my car, went to Dick's and got some supplies for my fishing vest. I used the vest wading for steelhead in Michigan a couple weeks ago (or was it last weekend?) but I just put my lures loose in the pockets. That resulted in a few small holes in the pockets, and a few larger holes in my hands. Apparently people use small tackle boxes in the pockets. Who knew!?

So I put together an assortment of lures in a few small tackle boxes, filling my fishing vest with everything I'd need. I had a soft plastics tackle box with tubes, worms, creatures, bullet weights, and hooks; I had a jig box with twister tails, grubs, and jigs of all sizes; then I had a crankbait box with a selection of my favorite crankbaits, including some handmade ones from Mike Muston of Flushing, Michigan, Their action is incredible!

Got up extra early saturday morning, ate some oatmeal, drank some (not enough) coffee, and set out in the dark... for Busse Lake. Why did I choose Busse, where I've been skunked so many times before? Reading reports, it seemed many people have been KILLING it at Busse. I wanted in on the action! I still have never caught a bass in the kayak.

I drove to Busse, noticing that all the entrances were closed except the one I wanted to enter- the Higgins road entrance near 290. I arrived just about at sunrise, and there were already about 15 cars parked inside the preserve. Wow, I guess I wasn't the only one trying to get out today. I quickly unloaded the kayak, parked my car, and was in the water in about 10 minutes.

I caught this deep diving crankbait
on a texas-rigged plastic worm

The fog was incredible- the air temperature was rather cold, but the water was warm. I think that situation will cause fog every time- but I don't really know science. It was great fun paddling through the dense fog, only being able to see a little bit in front of me. It was like a tylenol commercial for baby boomers. Not sure why I thought that...

I worked the shoreline with a variety of lures, nothing. I trolled a crankbait, nothing. I worked the channel near the boat launch, some shallow areas that seemed like nice spawning grounds, and even some downed timber where that guy had success the night before, and nothing. I did however manage to catch a new lure, looks like a deep diving crankbait. Nice! I've found so many nice pieces of gear at Busse, it lessens the blow of the almost expected skunk. It was a great outing in terms of kayaking, but alas I went home without any fish pictures.

SATURDAY - part 2 - Salt Creek


I decided to head back to Salt Creek again, this time with my waders. I got there about an hour before sunset, and was really hoping for some bites. I put my waders on, threw on my fishing vest (which by the way is an awesome way to carry tackle! So convenient, and I can travel lighter. No big tackle box needed... Just grab what I need from my pockets. I love it!)

I stepped into the water, and that's when the problems started. First of all, the water was extremely muddy, flowing quickly, and filled with big rocks. I didn't have my wading staff. As I attempted to enter the water, every move was stopped by a huge rock I couldn't seem to get around. Finally, I was able to get around the rock, but then suddenly discovered there was a two foot dropoff just on the other side! I almost ended up swimming in the creek instead of wading. I tried to find some other spot to enter, but nothing. All along the banks it seemed the creek got very deep, very quickly. There seemed to be no easy way to enter the water.

I tried hiking up a path, looking for another entrance. I found a bridge which looked promising. I was about to step in the water, when it occurred to me I'd better check the depth. I stuck my rod in the water, tip down, to get a sense of the depth. Almost the whole rod went in the water- vertically- and it was clear that this spot had a four foot dropoff. Not a good idea to step in!

Discouraged, I fished a bit from the bridge. Scanning the water, trying to remember everything I've read about river fishing, I tried to make sense of what I saw. Which ones were riffles, which ones were pools? I found an area where the water flowed in a circle, and the current seemed much weaker. It was also under some bushes. Sure enough, when I cast my jig n twister, I got some bites! Unfortunately I couldn't get anybody to commit, and once again ended up leaving empty handed so to speak.

This guy grabbed my lure and shoved it into his mouth
Then he spit it out for me. Thanks frog!

I did end up hooking a frog accidentally with a white jig n twister. He grabbed it with his hand and shoved it into his mouth! I didn't know frogs did that. I tugged on the line and he quickly spat it out. I'm glad I didn't hurt him, I like frogs.

It's always great to get out, and I like exploring new areas, even if I'm skunked. I'll definitely have to come back here with a kayak, and see if I can find one of those elusive Salt Creek muskies.

2012: The Year of the Skunk?

The pond

It was recently brought to my attention I haven't been blogging much lately... It's not that I haven't been fishing, or cooking (I finally made a roux!), or making music (working on a dub album right now)... Or playing video games! (Minecraft is a seriously amazing game.) But for some reason, it hasn't seemed like any of these specific activities warranted a full blog post. Since this is primarily a fishing blog, I suppose I'd be remiss if I didn't share my most recent fishing adventures.

Of course, I use that term very lightly. My fishing lately has been less adventure and more casting practice.

Since January 1, I've gotten out on the water about 15 times (might be higher, I haven't been keeping track). So far this year I've hit up Salt Creek a bunch of times, Busse (yes, I'm a glutton for punishment), Belmont Harbor, Diversey Harbor; and once the ice went away, my local honey-hole retention pond.

My first few outings were difficult, to say the least. Every other cast I would tangle my line. I felt like the total noob fisherman I was a year ago. Not that I'm not still a noob, but in October I could handle a fishing rod pretty well. So far this year I'm definitely out of practice, and it shows!

Every few days I get the urge to wet a line, and head out with the hopes of landing even a single fish. Even a tiny fish would be nice, just a fish. On some of the nice weekends we've been having (winter? what winter?) I've spent a good portion of my Saturdays and Sundays standing on a bank somewhere, casting like a madman. And yet, so far, I have only caught the SKUNK! (With the exception of an outing in early January, where I landed a few TINY sunfish and a shiner.)

It's been great to see familiar landscapes changed by the seasons. Until last year, I didn't really go outdoors too much. It was mostly moving from one indoors to another indoors- just this place I have to go in between being inside. Anything I saw outside was just a backdrop to my trip. Since I've been obsessed with fishing (and of course kayaking) the outdoors is pretty much where I want to be as much as possible. It's not that I want to date Mother Nature or anything, or go chain myself to trees about to be cut down; I just really like being outside. I love seeing animals (particularly fish on the end of my line, but herons and deer will suffice), I like the infinite nature of being outside (the ceiling is very very high), and I like what it sounds like when there's nothing but nature for a few hundred yards.

Belmont Harbor

Standing on the bank of a body of water there aren't really reverb reflections, and often the only sound is the sound of moving water. Or loud, obnoxious geese. (By the way, when a hundred squawking, pooping, splashing geese descend from the sky on my pond, destroying the wonderful water-soundscape and possibly scaring all the already skiddish fish, I have an incredibly strong urge to take up goose hunting. How can they be so loud, and poop so much? Why don't they migrate somewhere already?? Would it be strange to bring a shotgun when I go pond fishing?)

The lower water levels have given me some insight into what's really beneath the surface of the water- certain fishing spots I frequent have been giving up some secrets lately. I can better see the structure, where there should be some fish hiding. Come spring, I hope to take advantage of that valuable information.

In all my time spent inside this winter, I've been planning my 2012 fishing season. Last year my life's mission was to catch a smallmouth bass- and I finally did in September on the amazing Fox River. This year, I want to expand my species list and land a walleye and a pike. Just one of each, that would do it for me! My internet history is bulging at the seams with google searches like "walleye lures" "walleye techniques" "early spring pike" s"why are walleye so elusive?" "salt creek muskie" and things like that.

Salt Creek

This has been a strange "winter"- I thought I might get to experience ice fishing, but so far there hasn't been too much ice. I never thought I'd get to fish open water in January or February, but I have- not much to show for it though. My dreams are filled with long paddles in the kayak, catching bass after bass, using my (not yet purchased) fish finder to locate and slay pure hogs; hopping into my waders and spending as much time as possible up to my waist in river water... I've been seriously contemplating taking my yak out to the pond; however my always reasonable wife convinced me that would be ridiculous. Perhaps...

Bottom line: can't wait for spring, can't wait for the fish to start biting again, can't wait for all this indoors stuff to be done with.

PS: Walleyes and pikes: I'm coming for you!

Salt Creek at Sunset

Salt Creek at sunset

Had a little bit of time to get out today, so I took the opportunity to hit up some water! Once again, due to it's distance from my house, the Fox was out of the question... I decided to visit a place I'd been wanting to fish. I headed to Salt Creek at Arlington Heights Road, which is at the southern tip of Busse woods. I've fished Busse a whole lot, and once even fished the pool there on the south side in a kayak, but never on foot.

Long story short, didn't get a thing. There was another guy fishing at the pool who also didn't catch anything. I "hiked" up the creek to the dam, where nobody else was catching anything. I didn't stay for long; I headed back to the car, then drove to my sure-fire creek spot.

The sun was out and bright, on it's way to setting; the wind was pretty fierce. Even though the air temperature wasn't too bad (45°F I think) I quickly got cold due to the wind. Good thing I had all my layers and my fancy L.L. Bean fuzzy-lined flannel underneath my vest. I busted out my new rod - my one and only ultra-light - and really enjoyed the feel of the small jig on the small rod. I can't wait to land a good-sized fish on it. I'm sure it will feel like a whale!

Within a few minutes, I had a fish! Not a good-sized fish, not a whale.

Very small, but bigger than the shiner yesterday

The fish at this spot, seemingly any time of the year, want nothing to do with artificial lures of any kind (except jigs, as long as there's nightcrawler on them). Nobody wanted my hair jigs, which only slightly offended me. I thought they looked pretty nice. The one above was caught on a nightcrawler on a tiny (1/16oz?) jighead. So was second and last fish I caught today.

So there you have it, catch #2 and #3 of 2012. And each one is bigger than the last! At this rate, by December 2012 I should be landing 60 pound catfish from the retention pond.

Fish #3 of 2012

Actually caught some fish at Busse

Busse in the rain

It was (last) Sunday, it was raining, and I was cooking: beans, chickpea curry, baking bread. That's what I usually do after fishing; make the food I'm going to eat the rest of the week. Otherwise I just end up eating Jimmy John's or Flaco's Tacos everyday. Which isn't so bad. But I like cooking!

I had cooked everything on my agenda. I looked out the window to see the light rain. I remembered the most successful day I'd ever had fishing- in terms of catching bass- was at Busse on a similar day. The phrase "It doesn't rain on fish, just fishermen" popped into my head. 

My understanding wife said I should go, so I did!

In a matter of short minutes, I was standing on the rocks at Busse, the rain jacket my father in  law gave me shielding me from the rain, casting a black spinnerbait. I saw two other fishermen: one was using lures, the other one had nightcrawlers under a bobber and was standing there watching under an umbrella. The latter angler was in the spot I wanted to be in!

Oh well. I fished on the rocks anyway. I lost the spinner, so I tied on another one. I moved down the coast, eventually working the shoreline close to my ideal spot. Not a hit, didn't see any baitfish, nothing.

I've probably fished Busse more than any body of water, and it has skunked me more times than I'd like to share. But I've also had some really good days there; one night I caught the biggest bass I'd ever caught, in shallow water, on a very similar black spinnerbait.

I kept moving down the coast, hoping to entice some fish to bite. Wearing my new boots, I felt confident in my hiking ability- I continued down the coast, stepping in the water to avoid trees, ducking under foliage. I came to a spot that has always produced at least one bass for me. It's hidden and out of the way, and I don't think many people fish it. There is a log in the water on a rocky shoreline that quickly slopes down to deep water. There are plenty of little bluegills there. Is that a textbook bass location?

First cast, I retrieve parallel to the log, slowly, and get stuck on some weeds. I let the lure drop a little, trying to unhook it, and then SPLASH! A nice sized LMB bursts out of the water, throwing the hook. My spinnerbait falls back on the shore with its characteristic jangling sound.

Lil' 'gill

Turns out that was the only bass I would catch there. I used the spinnerbait for a while to no avail. I tried my black fury that had worked so well recently, but nothing. I saw a white grub on a tiny jighead high in the trees, as if somebody tried to cast and got hung up. I tied on a similar, but smaller grub.

A few minutes later I felt a tap, and I pulled out a bluegill! At this point I'd been casting for an hour or two- hard to tell- and I was incredibly thankful to see this little guy. It was a dinky dink- I probably should get chastised for even posting a picture of such a tiny fish... But I caught it, fair and square.

I returned it to the water, and tried unsuccessfully to pull out some more for the next half hour. Tied on the black spinnerbait again, to no avail.

I decided to call it a day- the rain wasn't uncomfortable, if anything I liked the constant sound of raindrops and the lack of crowds. The temperature was nice and comfortable, I was perfectly temperate inside the rain jacket. Walking back toward my car, I noticed the guy was gone from "my" spot. What the heck, I thought, and I walked over there and stood in the spot.

I cast toward the dam, the spinner landing not even 6 inches from the rocks. Worried about hanging up on the veritable lure-graveyard under the surface, I quickly tugged on my rod to get the spinner up. It wouldn't come up, because it was hooked to a fish!

There were splashes, but I couldn't see what I had hooked... I reeled in quickly, the fish passively coming toward me like a largemouth-bass-colored pile of weeds. I got it out of the water, and ecstatically took a picture of the two of us together.

My sunday trophy!

Full disclosure, I know it's a small fish. Not really something worth bragging about, let alone posting about. But it was a great outing, especially at a place that has been so difficult in the past.

I hopped in the car and headed home, ready to do some more cooking.

Frustrating morning at Busse

Waking up, my last fishing outing a complete bust, I was determined to prove my angling ability and catch some fish. I ate some cap'n crunch (he's a captain, right? couldn't hurt) drank some coffee, packed my gear, sprayed down with bug spray, and was off.

I got to Busse at 5:52am expecting to wait in line for the park ranger to open the gate, but to my surprise the gate was open. I headed in, seemingly the only car int he place. I made a beeline for the boat launch, and quickly unloaded, moved my car to a non-trailer parking space, and was in the water in 10 short minutes. The water was COVERED with geese, I mean every square yard of lake had a goose on it! It was pretty crazy.

As I was unloading, two pickups with small boats arrived and began their own unloading process. I talked fishing with one of the guys, who was clearly after some fish- he said he was going to be fishing for bass. From our conversation I wasn't sure if he fished Busse often, so I told him where I'd been catching bass and what I had been using.

I slid into the water, and the geese complained and grumbled like old guys who hadn't had their coffee yet. Or like me before my coffee. I was already around the bend, line in the water, before the other boats had even launched. It would be great to have a bass boat, but for now, I'm pretty satisfied with my quick-unloading and quick-launching S.S. Silent But Deadly.

I started working some downed timber just east of the boat launch with nightcrawlers and tubes. The second boat, a husband and wife, slowly made their way around the bend. I knew there *should* be fish in this wood, I just hoped the fish knew that.

Sure enough, it didn't take long to get a nice-looking but small bluegill in the boat. Hooray, I beat the skunk! I am a real fisherman after all! Hey, it's just a tiny gill, but a tiny gill at Busse is better than no fish on the Fox.

Not 50 yards from me, I hear a splash, and see that the man in the boat has a fish on. A nice big fish. He pulls it toward the boat, his wife gets the camera ready, and I hear him say "walleye." Walleye!!??? What!!?? The elusive walleye, one of the many species I've never caught, and this guy gets one RIGHT where I was JUST fishing, on his first cast there!!?? At BUSSE!!???!!??

I congratulate him, and ask him what he was using- he says a jointed rapala. I don't have one like that, so I bust out a shallow-diving crankbait, and cast in the area he caught the eye. (He and his wife had moved on by this point, so I wasn't fishing right where he was!)

After many hangups and treble hooks full of weeds, I decided to move on. I paddle accross the lake to some more sunken trees. I catch a few more little bluegill. I read a DNR report the other day about the numbers of bluegill in Busse; there are TONS of them, but very few are over 8" - which is the minimum size. The DNR people theorized that most people fishing for bluegill keep any over 8" and that accounts for the lack of larger bluegill. Seems fair to speculate that many bluegill under 8" are also kept.

At this point, I don't feel redeemed as a fisherman... Sure I can catch tiny bluegill, and yes it's great to catch fish, in a kayak no less, but let's get into some bigger fish please. I work my way along the shoreline, slowly paddling toward the Higgins Road bridge. I know it's deep in the middle there, and have heard recent reports of walleye being caught there. I lusted after some walleye. I was so jealous of that guy and his wife and their walleye.

I stop behind an island where the water is still and there are lots of weeds. This is exactly the kind of place where I caught some nice bluegill and those perch last weekend. I proceeded to catch more tiny bluegill. I did find a pretty awesome new lure though- a Hedon Torpedo, which will be nice addition to my tackle box, once I figure out how to fish it.

There were lots of birds in these trees

I fish the Higgins bridge channel for a while, throwing crankbaits, tubes, senkos, nightcrawlers, and nothing. Nothing except for more hangups. At this point I'm seriously frustrated. The wind was also picking me, making it more difficult to stay in one place in the yak. I know that's part of the whole kayak-fishing deal, but it was still frustrating.

I need to catch a nice fish. Even a nice sized bluegill, just something to redeem myself after the skunk-fest I had yesterday. I paddle over to the north dam, a place I've had a lot of luck this year.

Biggest landed fish of the AM...

Catching a few bluegill in the weeds, I hear a little kid talking non-stop across the bay. Looks like his dad is on the point, fishing for carp or catfish, getting his ear talked off. I think about how annoying that must be, he's trying to concentrate and catch some fish, but his kid is going on and on... I also think how nice it is he took his son fishing, and how much the son must love it to be talking this much. Fishing isn't just about catching fish, I tell myself, it's about the experience, and nature, and relaxation, and bonding... But seriously, the kid was talking a lot. I wondered if I eventually have a little kid and take him fishing, how I would deal with the rambling. But hey, he's just a kid! It's great he's so into it. Just because I'm super frustrated doesn't mean the kid isn't having a great time fishing!

Working my way around the shore, catching a few small bluegill, I head closer to the dam. The kid sees me, and heads toward me. With a nightcrawler, hoping for a fair-sized gill, I cast toward the shore. The kid casts about 3 feet to the left of my line. It's ok, he doesn't know any better... 

and then WHAM! Fish on! Something came up and engulfed my worm, and was now going crazy! This was a bigger fish than I'd been catching. I caught a glimpse near the surface, it was a largemouth. Hooray! Fish on!!

After a short fight, I worked him over to the kayak. Using my very bad estimation skills, I guessed he was about 12-14" long, and relatively chunky. A nice bass for anywhere, but especially Busse where skunk rules supreme! Awesome. This was great, I was going to land my first bass in the kayak, take a great picture, it would be my new facebook profile pic, I could share it all on the blog, and then PLOP.

He unhooked himself and swam back into the deep.

A foot from the kayak.

@&%$*@!!! Are you KIDDING me!!? In all my fishing inexperience, I haven't lost too many fish I've hooked- I like to think I'm pretty good at landing them once I've got'em... But this was a dark hour for me. It was hard to keep the tension as he was swimming toward the kayak, and it was a powerful tail movement that set him free. If only he had known I was going to set him free anyway! Maybe he would have obliged a quick photo.

I shouted (not profanity, mind you) and looked at the kid, who watched the whole thing. "Did you see that!!??" I asked. "yeah," he said. "Where did you get him?" I told him, and he immediately cast right there, about 10 feet in front of me.

As I was dealing with my intense grief of loosing such a nice fish, playing it over in my head, thinking what a great picture that would have made, that's when he started talking.

Again, I totally understand he's just a kid, and it's cool he's so into fishing (it's actually very cool), and I appreciate completely his desire to catch a big fish like the one I just lost... But at that moment, it was difficult for me to think of those things. All I could think of was the skunk fest I was deep into, and the very nice fish that I unintentionally released.

I answered his questions as calmly as I could, and tried my best to continue fishing and avoid crossing lines with the kid. I wanted that bass back. Real bad. I was on a mission- I didn't want to move, there was a big bass under the water somewhere right around here! The kid moved closer and closer to the kayak, until he was casting 3 feet away from the boat. I wondered how I could explain to him fishing etiquette, and how fishing right where somebody was isn't the best thing to do... But I didn't want to diminish his excitement for fishing by giving him a bunch of rules, so I didn't say anything.

A duck

After about a half hour, I wasn't going to catch my lost bass. I lost a few lures and hooks on the rocks and tree branches, and was getting more and more frustrated. I felt the way I used to feel on every fishing trip last summer, inept and inexperienced, unable to keep my line untangled, unable to keep a lure on for more then 3 or 4 casts. As much as I appreciated the kid's enthusiasm, I had to get out of there. I bid him farewell, and headed up the shoreline to another spot I knew to sometimes hold bass.

Turns out, that would be my one and only bass hookup for the day. I wondered if it "counted" to just hook into a beast, but I kept thinking "if there's no picture, it doesn't count." Then I thought, "if there's no picture, I can make it as big as I want!" That made me feel a little better. But seriously, blog reader, it was definitely at least 13", I promise. Or maybe it was closer to 22", about 4 pounds, probably more like that. It might have been a muskie. Yup, that's what it was.

On my way back to the boat launch, saw what looked like a white crappie floating at the top of the water. I got closer, and it looked alive. I picked it up, and righted it in the water. I moved it through the water to get some water through its gills, and it seemed to revive. Awesome! It swam down a little, but then quickly floated back to the top on its side. I felt bad, I wanted to help, but it seemed pretty messed up.

I paddled back, and found another lure- this one looked really cool and seemed like a deep-diving crankbait, which I didn't have yet. Cool! As I made my way, I thought of the day, and really was happy I at least caught some fish. And almost caught a monster bass. It wasn't so bad- I was outside, on the lake, in a kayak, on a beautiful day, enjoying the scenery and getting exercise, and was about to head home to my lovely wife and awesome dog. Not bad! Can't really complain.

Except about the one that got away, I could certainly complain about that, and unfortunately, my wife would have to listen to it.

I caught this hog this spring, t not far from where I lost the bass today...
I'll just assume the one I lost was at least as big

Chris Beckstrom: Suburban kayak adventurer

my adventure- distance paddled: 5 miles. distance portaged: 1/2 mile

I'm pretty fascinated with the idea that so many bodies of water are connected, and it's possible to travel between them in a boat or something (or if you're a fish, just swimming). It's pretty cool to think that before there were roads and expressways, the indigenous people of the area (and european "explorers") used the waterways as their transportation (and of course a major source of food!)

Busse Lake

When I discovered that our new house was a mile from Salt Creek, which connects to Busse Lake - one of my most frequented bodies of water - I immediately thought "whoa, that means I could kayak from near my house to Busse!" Just the idea of that made me excited. I can't really explain it, but traveling a distance in a kayak just excites me. I've fished Salt Creek a bunch of times, and always had great luck in numbers, if not size. Tons of bluegill, pumpkinseed, some crappie, even the smallest LMB I'd ever caught.

Of course, there's no real need to kayak up the creek to Busse- I have a car carrier for my yak, and could just as easily drive up there and launch at Busse proper... But kayaking the 3-ish miles upstream to Busse to go fishing seemed like an adventure worth having, and Sunday was the day to do it!

this awesome spider was hanging out where I launched
(the internet tells me it's a female
"garden spider," Argiope aurantia )

I woke up at 4am, drank my coffee, ate my oatmeal, grabbed my crawlers and frozen water bottles out of the fridge, sprayed down with bug spray, and hopped in my car, kayak and fishing gear loaded a few short hours ago before I went to sleep. My plan was to be on the water by 5am, and I roughly estimated I could be to Busse by 6am, just in time for sunrise and good fishing. And there is such a thing at Busse, I promise!

Reading this account, please keep in mind that in general, "the outdoors" is a completely new thing to me. Just a few short years ago, the idea of waking up before 9am if I didn't have to was incomprehensible; I couldn't stand to be in 75°F heat longer than a few minutes; I had always been an "inside kid." When my friends were outside playing, I was inside practicing saxophone or playing video games. I don't regret that at all; I still love music, computers, video games, and playing the saxophone. So this whole waking up at 4am to go kayaking is a pretty radical thing for me...

I'm either going mining or kayaking in the dark

Anyway, since I'm so new to all this, sometimes key things don't occur to me. Things like at 5am in the summer, it's dark. Of course intellectually I knew this, and the whole reason I was launching so early was predicated on this fact... But I didn't think about how I would not only launch in complete darkness, but paddle for an hour before the sun came up.

Good thing I had my LED headlamp! Best purchase ever, after the kayaks and collapsible fishing rod of course. The water level was so high I the kayak floated in the tall grass that is usually 20' from the water. I hopped in, and paddled through what is normally definitely land. About a million bugs fell on me as I made my way through the grass, something that even 3 months ago would have creeped me out so much I would have turned around right then... But not today. I brushed them off, and shortly I heard the quiet gurgling sound that meant I was in open water, in the creek proper.

It was so dark. It was 5am, the sun wasn't showing up in full force for at least an hour, and the many trees lining the banks blocked whatever light there was in the sky- so it was very dark. My LED headlamp illuminated just enough in front of me I could avoid logs and branches, but not a lot more. This was a surreal experience, paddling in basically complete darkness, surrounded by buzzing insects, knowing there was a myriad of wildlife on all sides, but not being able to see any of it. Illinois law says any water craft must have the appropriate lights to legally be on the water in darkness, but since it didn't occur to me it would be so dark, I didn't equip my kayak with lights.

As I paddled, I tried best I could to keep to the middle of the creek, avoiding blocked areas, and trying not to get too close to the shore on either side (the bugs really intensified a few feet from the bank). I looked around with my headlamp, and I was surprised to see many pair of eyes reflecting back at me. Honestly, I didn't know that was a real thing! I thought it was just in disney cartoons animals in the jungle watched from the dark- but nope, it was real. I was as anxious about it as I was curious.

At one point a pair of eyes near the top of a tree was clearly watching me. I couldn't tell what it was, maybe a raccoon? A possum? To big to be a squirrel. I stopped paddling. The animal came down the tree a little bit, and looked back at me. We stared each other down, trying to figure out what we were looking at. The animal came closer; it was as interested in me as I was in it. It was too dark to really see what it was, but I enjoyed my animal-nature-bonding moment.

something tells me they know where the fish are

Back to paddling, I started to see more detail in my surroundings. Although I knew from satellite pictures there were residential and commercial areas on all sides of the creek, from where I was sitting I could have been in upstate New York, or the Everglades, or some remote creek in Montana or Canada somewhere. There was so much wildlife! I heard the quacking of ducks, who seemed to be swimming the same route I was paddling, only a few yards in front of me. I saw the silhouettes of many many heron in the trees; a few times my presence startled them and I was delighted to hear the sound of their wings beating the air only a short distance above my head. A few fish jumped all around me. This is what is so great about kayaking- since paddling is very quiet, you can get extremely close to wildlife before they realize you're there.

The sun was higher in the sky, and I noticed fog all around me, my headlamp turning everything white. The fog was rising from the water, something I'd often seen early in the morning, but I'd never been in it's midst when it was happening! This was great. This was exactly what I wanted to experience.

on the great salt creek

I passed under some bridges, counting them to get an idea how far a distance I had to my destination. I'd been studying the map and satellite photos, and I figured by this point I was more than half way. The water level was so high, on one bridge I had to recline in the kayak to avoid hitting my head.

Planes flew overhead, the ducks maintained their distance in front of me, and I seemed to be following a bunch of herons, who were doing what I would soon be doing- looking for fish. Fog rose all around me, bugs buzzed, the sound of my paddling was so soothing I didn't even notice how much my arms were burning until I stopped to drink some water and coffee. This was by far the farthest I'd ever paddled all at once, and I'd never paddled continuously for so long. If I stopped paddling, I would start to go downstream, away from Busse, so I had to keep paddling!

Finally I got to the Arlington Heights Road bridge, which was the dividing line between the residential area and Busse woods. I made it! Part of me wasn't sure I'd be able to make the almost 3 mile journey in the kayak, against the current, but I made it. There was a pool just inside the preserve that was my first fishing stop.

arlington heights road bridge, the dividing line between the world and Busse, my destination

Once I got into Busse, the current went away, and I could calmly float as I prepared my rods. I started with a 1 oz. white spinnerbait, hoping to entice some of the fish jumping around me to hop into my kayak for a quick hello and a picture. I'd never caught a bass in the kayak, I really hoped this would be the day. I put a crawler on a 1/16oz jig with a bobber, and wet that line as well.

A few minutes later a fisherman emerged from the forest, rods and bucket in hand. I think I surprised him; I was only about 10' from the shore, and he didn't notice me until I said "hello." He said he was fishing for carp and catfish, and he'd caught some pretty big ones in this pool. I wished him luck, and he followed the shoreline to his spot.

After a half hour, I didn't even get any nibbles. It was time to move on, so I bid my fishing friend farewell and paddled north. The water came back to a creek's width for a bit before it met with Busse's south dam, and that was where I planned on portaging to get to the main pool.

As soon as I rounded the bend, I saw a huge fallen tree blocking the entire creek. It was creating a small rapids, and making what I thought was going to be a smooth paddle very difficult. I adjusted my rod holders so my rods were horizontal - to avoid hangups on the tree - and prepared to navigate through the obstruction. Let's do it!

Well, it wasn't going to happen. Not only was the current extremely strong - flowing in the wrong direction, but there were branches everywhere, scraping my neck and dropping spiders on me. I could barely get the paddle out of the water before it hit branch after branch. I scanned the banks for a possible portaging route, and that wasn't going to happen either- the high water level had changed the grassy area into a marsh, where I would certainly sink into the earth, unable to get to the main pool. My only real choice at this point was to go back to the pool and portage through the forest, reconnecting with the creek past the obstruction.

the great portage of salt creek

On land, I could see a path leading north, that I hoped would curve west again and meet the creek. I grabbed some rope from my tackle box, and tied it to the front of my yak. With my new knot-tying chops, I tied a few butterfly knots, which are great for making handles if you have to pull something... like a kayak.

I'm glad there was a trail

The ground was still wet from yesterday's rain, and so was the grass. This made it possible to pull my boat instead of carry it, which was pretty nice. I made my way through the forest, following a muddy path which I hoped would lead me to water sooner than later. As I pulled my yak, I was really glad I didn't bring an anchor, which would have made it even heavier. I felt like an explorer, portaging around an undiscovered stream through an unknown forest, not knowing what I would find on the other side. Obviously people had been here before me, but it was true I didn't know what would be on the other side.

What was on the other side was a parking lot. I knew this lot was quite a bit west from the creek, and even farther south from the main pool. I decided I'd better follow the bike path instead of trekking through the forest- I was wearing shorts, and can't yet identify poison ivy and stuff...

I dragged my yak along the wet grass until I got to the bike path that goes over the south dam (where Busse spills back into Salt Creek). Many bicyclists passed me, many of them looked perplexed by what I was doing... As they should have been! I got the kayak over the bike path, down the rocks, and back into the forest. I had fished this spot before, I knew the water was very close and there wasn't a steep dropoff- perfect place to launch.

herons know what's up with fishing

Got the yak in the water, pushed past the tall plants growing out the marshy area, and I was on the water! To my left was the south dam, where many families seemed to be having a great time fishing; to my right was a fishing wall, lined every foot with a fisherman; in front of me, on the other side of the lake, was a shoreline lined with fallen timber and weeds. I saw a heron perched on a tree very close to the water, and in the blink of an eye it's knife-life beak went into the water and pulled out a fish.

I don't have a fish-finder on my kayak, so I have to rely on other clues to find fish. I study depth maps like a crazy person, I take careful note of weedlines and what look like dropoffs from the surface, and I always watch the birds. The birds are fishing too, and they usually have a better idea where the fish are than I do- so I go where they are. 

sorry I stole your spot dude

I got to the spot where the heron was (it flew away- like most fisherman, herons aren't fans of b**** fishing - when another fisherman fishes in your spot). I dropped a line in the water, hoping the fish didn't notice my paddling and were still in the area.

Sure enough, a few minutes later I pulled out the first fish of the day!

thanks mr. fish, you made it all worth it!

I can't express how happy I was to have gotten this dink fish in the boat! I was so incredibly happy, not only to break my 3-4 day skunk, but to have made it to my destination, and successfully caught a fish. Small as it was, this was a trophy fish to me. I thanked it profusely, and was glad it seemed fine when I carefully placed it back in the water. This fish did me a tremendous favor, and I was eternally grateful. I have often gotten the skunk at Busse, and catching a fish there at all is a big feat- but especially today!

I continued to catch fish on my 1/16oz chartreuse jig and nightcrawler, rigged without a bobber. The fish were hanging out just past the weedline, toward the bottom. The heron had unintentionally tipped me off to a great spot! I hoped the bird had found another and could get enough to eat. I think you're supposed to tip your fishing guide- if it had still been around, I definitely would have tossed it a fish to say "thanks."

Each fish I caught was bigger than the last, I was slayin'em at Busse! After the bite died down in that spot, I moved north along the coast to find some more fish. I found a good looking spot, where there was a nice change from weeds to open water, a large dropoff, and there were a bunch of ducks eating. Thanks to the birds, again, I began catching fish. Some more bluegill/pumpkinseed, again I was incredibly elated. At this point I decided to rename my kayak the S.S. Silent But Deadly, for her silent fish-hunting ability.

Then I hooked into a fish that seemed to be bigger than the others, and had a very different fight. To my astonishment, I pulled out this awesome fish:

perch! at busse!

At first I thought walleye. I'd never caught a walleye, and I thought they look kind of like this... But the eyes were wrong, and the teeth weren't right... A perch!!?? At Busse!!?? I'd never heard of anyone catching perch at busse; I thought perch were only found in deeper, bigger lakes, and of course Lake Michigan. Who knew!!? Not me.

I snapped some pictures and quickly re-cast to the same area, just along the bottom at the dropoff. I knew perch usually hung out in schools, so if there's one I might be able to catch more. I did!

The school of perch must have been a class of two, because that's all I caught. I decided to move on, working my way up the coast. Wasn't getting any action, although I was thoroughly enjoying myself. I had come a long way, had caught fish, and the day was still young. After hitting some nice-looking spots (and seeing one of my heron friends again) I decided to move toward the south pool/main pool dam where I'd caught some nice bass in the past. Actually that's where I'd caught my largest bass ever, at night, on a black spinnerbait.

The sun was up in full force, not much wind, not many clouds, and I tried to think where I would be if I were a fish. Well first of all, I'd be in the shade. I headed to a promising spot- sunken wood, weeds, shade, and I cast.

what a pretty fish

more perch

Fish on! This was turning out to be a great day fishing. I caught some more gills, and pulled out another perch. What!?? How is it after all the times I'd fished Busse, I'd never caught a perch, and now I was catching a bunch of them? Maybe they prefer to be as far from shore fisherman as possible, maybe they know how tasty they are.

As morning turned to early afternoon, the bite died down. I worked some more spots, to no avail. The fish were taking a siesta in either deep or in the shade, and I got the hint that maybe I should do the same. My lovely wife agreed to come pick me up, as I wasn't mentally prepared to do the reverse portage and long paddle back to my car. I headed toward the boat launch, completely satisfied with my suburban kayak angling adventure, happy that I made it in one piece, caught a new species (for me, on that lake), and all-in-all had an incredibly great morning.

next time I'll be sure to tip my guide with a nice juicy bluegill