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

Early Wednesday Fishing

As some of you may know, I am leaving my current job at Columbia College Chicago. Next week I will begin working at ChartCapture, doing tech support among other things. You may know about ChartCapture through fellow fishermen like Sam Bennett.

I won't be spending 3 hours a day commuting like I do now, I'll be working from home... That means I won't have the daily opportunity to fish downtown Chicago. Since this is my last week at Columbia, I decided I'd try and make the most of my last chance to fish while I'm there already. I woke up at 4am, downed a few cups of coffee, and hopped in the car, joining the already growing traffic on 290.

I parked at exactly 5am sharp, and reached Burnham Harbor Marina by 5:15. I was shocked and dismayed to find the gate leading to the choice spot at the pipe padlocked. Before I got too bent out of shape, I reminded myself fish can be everywhere, even away from "the good spot." I set up shop: one rod with crawlers under a bobber, the other with various jigs, cranks, spinners, and of course tubes.

Lake side at Burnham

I fish almost exclusively with lures, rarely fishing with nightcrawlers, and almost never with minnows. It's not that I'm against it, it's just convenient to carry all necessary fishing gear in my backpack as I go to work. Trying to transport minnows would make things tricky.

Because of that, I have this idea that if I use live bait- like worms- I'll have to fight the fish off with a stick. Turns out, this is not necessarily the case. I threw my bobber out, and was astonished it didn't get a single hit for at least five minutes. After a while, I finally managed to pull up a tiny bluegill, which of course is better than no fish.

Better than nothing!

I worked a small homemade inline spinner along the wall, perhaps hoping for any stray trout or salmon that might be in the harbor, and noticed many follows as I retrieved the lure. But they only followed when I burned the lure through the water super quickly. It reminded me of the baby trout on the Rogue River in Michigan; I only caught some when I increased the speed of my retrieve.

I had trouble keeping the spinner deep while I cranked it in, especially fishing from the pier six feet above the water. No matter what I did, I couldn't connect with any fish. I remembered some WCF members suggesting if I'm getting follows I'm close to the right presentation, so I tried a few other spinners and cranks. Some didn't get any follows, some did, but ony when I sped the lure through the water like a bat out of hell.

Frustrated, I decided to fish the other side, the lake side. I hauled my gear over a fence, jumped it myself, and found myself next to very calm water looking north to downtown Chicago. I set up at the pipe, and when I looked down I was amazed at what I saw in the water: a HUGE swarm of fish. The kind you see on the discovery channel on shows about the ocean. There were so many of them! I have no real way of estimating how many but I'd have to guess hundreds.

It was amazing! The water was very clear, and as the school swam around, the sun reflected on hundreds of tiny fish bodies like a chandelier in some underwater mansion. Occasionally I saw a much bigger fish chase some of the smaller fish. That was pretty cool; I don't often have the opportunity to see that.

And then I remembered to fish, so I did. I was sure one of those small fish would be interested in my night crawler, so I plopped it down in the water in the middle of the swarm. I couldn't figure out what they were... We're they shad? Baby bass? Alewives?

None of them were the slightest bit interested in my bait. When I tossed a jig and twister into their midst, they followed it around as long as I kept it moving, but lost interest when it was still. Just like trout.

Were these trout!!?

And then I saw a trio of giant carp, or at least what I thought were carp, cruising around the rocks near the swarm of little unknown fish. I saw another fish that wasn't a carp, but couldn't tell if it was a smallie, trout, salmon, or something else. Nothing I tossed into the water got any attention. Night crawlers on a makeshift crappie rig off the bottom, under a bobber, jigged; it seemed no presentation could entice these fish.

Finally I caught a goby. I may or may not have put it back on the hook. And it may or may not have elicited a strike from something, that may or may not have reminded me of a smallmouth bass... But alas, I missed the hook set and it didn't happen again.

After at least an hour and three gobies later, I decided to go back to the first spot. Some marina guys came and unlocked the gates, finally, so I made my way to the spot at the pipe. When I looked in the clear water, sure enough there was a swarm of fish there too. Still couldn't tell what they were, but I was excited to watch the fish. At one point I saw something I was positive was a big smallmouth bass, swimming casually a few feet under the swarm, but it was not interested in anything I dangled in front of its face.

And then I started to get follows again, burning a deep diving black and white crankbait through the water. It was very curious; there was a small window of speed, not slow but not like a bullet, where the little unknown fish would follow my lure. They lined up behind it, chasing it all the way back to me. It was exciting.

After about fifty casts parallel to the wall in front of the pipe, I figured out the right speed to attract the most fish. Suddenly, I felt a tiny amount of resistance on my crankbait that told me I had a fish on! And then I found out what those fish were.

Baby steelhead and the lure it took

That swarm of hundreds of little fish were baby steelhead trout! As soon as I realized what I had caught, I took a picture extremely quickly and got it back in the water in as little time as possible. I knew that these little guys would grow much bigger, and in three or four years would become the giant and delicious adult steelheads that I've had so little luck catching. I didn't want to mess up their childhood, I wanted them to grow big and strong. I marveled at the audacity of this little trout, to attack a lure about the same size as itself.

Now that I knew what they were, I stopped fishing for them. I wondered if these were stocked trout recently released by the DNR. Either way,  I didn't want to bother them and negatively affect the steelhead fishing in the future. Looking in the water, I noticed another school of fish that looked similar to the baby steelhead, but were brown. Could those be baby brown trout?

I threw a night crawler on the bottom on the off chance one of the giant carp might go for it, although there was no real way I'd be able to land one from the pier. I threw bass lures, trying to bring the smallies- supposedly "in the harbors now"- out of hiding. An hour later, it was time to go to work. I was really happy to add another species to my "species scoreboard 2012" and I hoped I didn't harm the beautiful little fish.

As I walked back to toward the city, dreams of adult steelhead and brown trout and giant lake Michigan smallies filled my head.

°°°

Although my haul of fish wasn't huge yesterday morning, I'm very happy with the variety of fish I've been catching! In the past 7 days, I've caught green sunfish, smallmouth bass, bullhead catfish, freshwater drum, bluegill, perch, walleye, gobies, largemouth bass, and this beautiful little steelhead trout. For a while I fished just for largemouth bass, but I see no reason to discount all the other great fish you can catch. They're all different, they all require different approaches, and I like the challenge of learning how they all operate. Someday when the zombie apocalypse happens, I might be glad I can catch more than just bass. 

Fish are awesome!

My first walleye!

I've been wanting to catch and eat some fish for quite some time, but it never works out. If I catch some eating-quality bluegill, I have to go to work and don't have a cooler. If I have a cooler, nobody bites. In an effort to try and catch some food, I made my first trip to Mallard Lake Monday evening.

I was sure that nightcrawlers under a bobber would do the trick, but all I caught were 3" gills. Perhaps all the eating sized ones have been harvested already, perhaps many others have had the same idea I did. Perhaps I shouldn't even eat fish from Mallard, or any other forest preserve lake...

While I had crawlers under the bobber, I threw out one of my favorite go-to lures, the white jig and twister. It really seems like under the right circumstances, that lure can catch anything that swims. All of the sudden I got a hit, another hit, bumpbumpbump, and I had a fish on! When I reeled it in I wasn't sure it was still on, but turns out it was just very small. My first Mallard fish, and my first perch of 2012! Not quite eating size though.... but I was excited to catch it!

Perch!

I've read perch travel in schools, so if there's one there may be more. I continued casting, hoping to find some bigger perch. A few casts later, I got a completely different kind of hit. It felt like branches, and then nothing. I wondered if I'd lost it... When I reeled in I knew almost immediately what it was, and to say I was overjoyed would be a huge understatement.

My first walleye!

I'm pretty sure I shouted "WALLEYE!!!" at the top of my lungs, and everybody on the path stopped and looked at me. That's ok, they should know how excited I was to finally catch a walleye.

Was it the tiniest walleye I could possibly imagine? Yes.
If I dropped it in the grass would it disappear due to it's diminutive size? Absolutely.
Did I care? Not in the least.

One of my main fishing goals for the year was to catch a walleye, and I did it. I admired its ferocious teeth and amazing coloring, forgetting about it's spiked gill plates. It didn't draw blood, but almost.

I took a few pictures, thanked it for letting me catch it, and carefully released it back into the water.

I'm still excited about catching this little guy

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

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...

A Short Wade in Cold Water

Had some time yesterday, and thanks to Ken G who hipped me to the spot, I headed south to Salt Creek near the Brookfield Zoo.

The creek flows all over the area, but I know it most where it leaves Busse and heads south a few minutes to the east of my house. Eventually it connects with the Desplaines river, then the Illinois River, then the Mississippi. I've become a little obsessed mapping rivers, streams, and creeks in Google Earth. They're all connected!

A 20 minute drive south, the creek has an entirely different feel to it. Less of a creek, more of a river. I expected a small trickle, but encountered a beautiful river with rocks, with much clearer water than I'm used to in Cook County. I rolled up in my car, marveling at the very tall trees, and quickly suited up and got to the water.

I think there's a pool in this picture-
that's where there were a bunch of little fish

First cast (with a 3" white jig'n'twister) I got a hit immediately. At that exact moment my phone rang, I saw who it was and knew I needed to take it; I answered my phone and the fish got off the hook. I could have sworn it looked like a small bass, it's slim profile flashed and disappeared back into the pool. My phone call took a few minutes, all the while I scanned the river, trying to figure out it's secrets. The result of the call was good though, I was headed to Nebraska for some gigs! I wonder if there's any good fishing out there.

I entered the water, and cast, trying to reclaim the little on that got away. Again I got plenty of little hits that felt more like panfish than bass. It occurred to me maybe I should fish with nightcrawlers, I bet I'd catch more fish. Looking at the water, I identified (maybe incorrectly) some riffles, a handful of little pools, and a couple seams. I did my best fishing all the angles of these things, but wasn't able to hook one of the little fish. I tied on a tiny jighead with a tiny pink tube, but they wouldn't go for it. Maybe they liked the color of the white twister?

Wanting to explore more, I proceeded upstream. It was crazy to see to the bottom of the creek; most places I've been fishing lately (the pond, Busse, Beck, Songbird, etc.) are usually very muddy with almost no visibility. Here, a short drive away, I could see the entire composition of the stream bed. Lots and lots of rocks, gravel, and little forests of weeds (algae?) pulsing in the current. It was beautiful. Except there was this weird smell I couldn't identify... kind of a bad smell.

If not for the roar of the nearby expressway and even closer major streets, I felt like I could have been 500 miles away. Maybe in some trout stream in Colorado. Or even better, in Michigan! I liked the variety of stuff happening on this little river- it was flowing pretty quickly, and it was easy to see all the different currents at the surface.

And then I looked to the right, and stood about five feet from a raccoon.

I stopped in my tracks, all I could think of were all those scenes in movies where raccoons jump on the face of an unsuspecting outdoorsman wannabe... But it didn't move. I couldn't quite see it's face... I stood there for a minute, and then I realized it was dead. Upon a more thorough investigation I noticed some bugs and stuff that were doing their job of dismantling the raccoon. I thought of how efficient nature is- the raccoon died, bugs take it apart, it becomes something else. I don't know anything about ecology or biology, so it kind of seems like magic.

I fished for a while more in the ice cold water. Oh, didn't I mention it was ice cold? It was ice cold. Like colder than ice cold. In my thin, non-neoprene and non-breathable waders, only a thin sheet of wader material and some jeans were between my privates and a quickly rushing stream of frigid water. I was very cold. This seemed to be the theme of the week.

Every so often I'd get out the water to warm up a bit, then walk back in and continue. I got a few more small bites, but didn't see any baitfish or especially fishy-looking areas. Cycling through my entire tackle box (divided into a few smaller tackle boxes, packed into my awesome fishing vest) I practiced using all the different kinds of lures I had. Good practice, but no fish. I definitely need to come back and explore when I have more time, this is a great spot.

Thanks Ken!

Looks pristine and far away, right?
Just 5 minutes from 290! Or 355 or 88 or something...

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

First fish of 2012

I hear hair jigs are good in the winter, so I made some
(They aren't perfect, but I'm learning!)

Saturday I made some hair jigs (thanks again to Mark for letting me borrow his fly tying kit) with the intention of hitting the Fox Sunday morning/afternoon. I consulted with the good folks at windycityfishing.com, and got some tips (thanks Ken!) I was excited to hit the water, especially to return to the Fox. Although each place I've fished has it's own appeal and everything, I think fishing the Fox River is my favorite- the smallies there are so fiesty, the scenery is so beautiful, and traveling out there is like taking a mini-vacation. As much as I enjoy fishing Lake Michigan 10 minutes from my job in downtown Chicago, there's something to be said for "getting out of town."

Anyway, I had my tacklebox full of my new hair jigs, some of my crankbaits, spinners; my goal was to just catch a fish- any fish. It would be great to catch a smallie, but even better to land a walleye! As far as I know I've never even hooked into a walleye or pike; to that end, they are my main goals for 2012! Of course I'd really like to catch some salmon or trout from Lake Michigan, but that almost seems like a completely different sport.

So Sunday morning I packed up the car, loaded my gear, put on long underwear and many layers of flannel, but couldn't find my wallet. Long story short, Claire I spent about two hours looking for my dumb wallet; I checked the movie theater we'd been to the night before, as well as the pizza place, and nothing. My wallet was gone.

That put a big dent in my fishing plans, and really messed everything up! I had a lot of things in that wallet, most importantly my credit cards, driver's license, Metra and CTA cards... and my fishing license!!!

As it turns out, a few months ago I upgraded my license to include a trout stamp- but I still have my non-trout stamped one! I think that still works, of course I can't fish for salmon or trout.

After a few hours of searching, we concluded it was GONE.  I quickly jumped in the car and drove to the retention pond with hopes of catching something today. There wasn't enough time for the Fox- it would be dark by the time I got there!

Frozen everywhere except the MIDDLE...

When I got to the retention pond, my hopes sank... In the 24 hours since I last checked it, the pond had mostly frozen over. There was still open water in the middle, but I couldn't reach it! There was a tiny bit of open water by the pipe, but it was completely dead. Nobody wanted my offerrings, even my brand new homemade hair jigs.

I glanced at my watch (the new awesome one I got for Christmas that tells me the moon's phase as well as sunrise and sunset - very helpful) and make a quick decision to hit one more place that might yield some fish. Hopped in the car, headed about 2 miles away, and about 10 minutes later I was at my spot on Salt Creek.

Looks cold! It was actually quite pleasant, around 45°F and no wind

I'd caught tons of little fish here, mostly bluegill and sunfish, a few crappie and one tiny largemouth. This time I had the good sense to bring some nightcrawlers with me- I was on a mission to CATCH A FISH!

I don't normally fish with a bobber- I like to work my lures through the water - but I had limited time and thought that might be the most successful. I had two rods- one I rigged with a bobber, the other with a hair jig.

First "cast" (more like a plop into the water) the bobber started jumping around like crazy. Fish! For the next 15 minutes I tried to hook one of the many tiny fish terrorizing my crawler, to no avail. I caught glimpses of them through the water, little sparks of silver that immediately disappeared into the dark but clear water.

Finally, after letting my bobber sit there for a while, I managed to land my first fish of 2012!

What a lunker!

I'd never caught a fish like this, and had no idea what it was... I think it's some kind of minnow, maybe a creek chub? Edit: thanks to Dan the Impractical Fisherman  this fish has been identified as a shiner. And yes, I know it's tiny... But they can't all be huge! That also means my catches of 2012 can only get bigger from this point on.

A while later, while fishing a (not homemade) panfish marabou jig (I think that's what it's called, in bright chartreuse and black) I got a BIG hit from something, but I couldn't entice it to chomp down again. The sun was setting, the wind was picking up and it was getting colder; time to head home.

Great start to 2012. I wonder how many times I'll be able to get out before it gets real nasty out there... Maybe winter will only last a month, and I can start kayaking in March. That would be awesome....

Way overdue! Fishing in Cleveland

Edgewater Park, Cleveland

Well this post is a long time coming! It's been I think two weeks since this fishing trip... I haven't had a chance to post this for a bunch of reasons, not the least of which is I was crazy sick sunday through tuesday last week. That's right- I almost never get sick, and I've now been sick twice in the last four weeks... what gives? Hopefully I get the facts right in the series of events; it's been a while, things are a little fuzzy.

Claire and I were in Cleveland last weekend for the Smerglia's Halloween Potluck party- well, that and some fishing. Friday night, Leo and I spent what seemed like hours trying to get my Ohio fishing license reprinted (I left mine at home). The guy operating the computer apparently forgot his password, and was telling us it was impossible to reprint my license and I'd have to shell out another $40 for a non-resident license. Leo, who has experience with the computer system from using it at Dick's, saw right through the rouse and was able to make it happen! The manager came over after a while, and between the three of them, eventually I got my little green license. We also picked up enough two liters for a small army of little kids, which turns out was exactly who would be coming over Saturday night.

Saturday morning Leo, Uncle Kevin and I headed out to hit up the big lake. Stopped to fuel up (gas for the car, coffee for me, sprite for Leo, Kevin already had his coffee) and soon we were walking out on the pier at Edgewater Park on Lake Erie. I had researched extensively, and read recent fishing reports from the Ohio DNR, as well as a bunch of local fishing forums. Just as in Chicago, the king salmon run was winding down, dovetailing into the steelhead run. In my mind salmon, those crazy fish who give up eating to come inland and spawn, seem incredibly difficult to catch; but I've already caught a few tiny steelhead. They seem more attainable; at least they still want some food! And in my humble opinion, they are much prettier, and word on the street is they taste even better than salmon. I've had grocery store salmon and grocery store rainbow trout, and based on that I would probably agree.

So we headed out on the pier, visions of steelheads dancing in my head. We were armed with some bright green nightcrawlers Leo picked up, some normal ones, and three tackle boxes worth of the greatest and latest in fish-catching technology. Kevin had a... let's call it retro tackle box filled to the brim with every kind of lure I'm familiar with, and some I'm not! Just to clarify, I thought his tacklebox was awesome.

We set up along the pier, and began casting. Leo shared some crappie rigs- they had some beads and some other lines coming off horizontally, as well as a snap to attach a weight. He'd had luck with that rig here in the past; he tied one on, and so did I. Looking around, we were the only ones on the pier. We started casting.

15 minutes went by without so much as a bite. Pretty early on I lost the crappy rig on some rocks- classic Beckstrom - and began rotating through my normal repertoire. Homemade inline spinners, Mepps, Little Cleos, tube jigs, jig and twisters (in both white AND black!), white spinners, black spinners; and nothing. Except a bunch of lost lures.

Leo and Kevin weren't doing any better, not one of us had even a single bite.

We noticed a guy walk down the pier, sit down on his bucket, and begin fishing with two rods rigged with bobbers and nightcrawlers. Almost immediately, he silently pulled up a nice looking largemouth bass, measured it, and put it in his bucket.

What!? Here we were, standing not 10 feet from the guy, also using nightcrawlers, and we had nothing to show for it. This guy comes in, sits down, and pulls out fish like magic. A few minutes later he has another one. He threw it back because it was too small, and that hurt even more. He was catching so many fish than us he had to throw some back!

As he fished, our eyes were trained on his rig, and immediately Leo and I perfectly replicated what he was using. Bobber, then six feet down the line, a juicy nightcrawler. This would catch fish, right?

Wrong. As this guy proceeded to pull out fish after fish, we proceeded to stare at our bobbers moving in the waves. Other fishermen showed up, using bobbers and nightcrawlers and everything else, but nobody caught any fish.

Leo switched to the other side of the pier- the one the fish whisperer was on - and continued not catching fish. Kevin and I stuck it out on the other side, also not catching fish. After loosing more lures, I climbed up the wall and began fishing the other side with Leo and the fishing expert guy. Pretty soon after that, he switched to the other side- the side where we'd been waterboarding our nightcrawlers for at least an hour straight- and proceeded to catch fish exactly where we had been fishing.

What the hell!? I told Leo I was retiring from fishing. The embarrassment was too much to bear. I mean, I had a fishing blog and 4 or 5 readers to report to, and this would not make an exciting post. How would I tell my faithful handful of followers I had failed them? How I had caught a big fat skunk instead of a big fat steelhead?

After about 3 hours of soaking worms in the choppy water, we conceded defeat. It was a fun if not frustrating outing, and it's always nice to fish with some other people. And really, it's probably for the best that Leo or Kevin didn't catch any fish- had they landed any hogs I would have had no choice but to disown them out of shame. Alas, nobody caught anything, so everything's good! And here I am telling you about it.

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.

On the lake with the family

Katie got a great shot of the clouds

 Coming fresh off a morning fishing trip fishless, I was determined to catch some fish.

After getting back to the parents' house, grabbing some subway, packing up the minivan, and driving a half hour east, we were at Lake Nepessing near Lapeer, Michigan - the probable location of our fishing redemption! This was our third annual family fishing outing; we rented a pontoon boat, took it out on the lake, and snacked and talked and drank and fished. Not exactly in that order.

I had been studying depth maps of the lake, and even uploaded a .kmz (google earth) file to my home server, so I could load waypoints on my iphone. (In the "maps" app, if you enter a URL in the search bar, you can load any .kmz or .kml file that's out there on the internet- or your own server. You won't get image overlays, but you will be able to see all of your markers.) There was a hump/sunken island right in the middle of the lake; on the east side, the depth went from 5' to 25' in about 10', and seemed like an ideal place to fish. I'd read reports of nice pike and bass being caught there.

We had several things working against us as we tried to position the boat in the sweet spot. First of all, pontoon boats are not easy to maneuver. Second, the lake was choppy, being stirred up by a relentless wind. Our big boat didn't stand a chance against the onslaught, and our tiny anchor just dragged along the muddy bottom.

After a few tries trying to get into position, we just decided to fish. We put the boat west of the hump, hoping that the wind would push us back over the hump, and we might have a chance of some fish. We dropped anchor, and although it didn't seem to stop our movement, it did slow us down a bit. It was about 3pm, so hopefully the fishing would get better as we approached sunset.

Walter is a pretty good ship's captain, for a dog

It was a great time, it's always nice to get outside and do some family stuff. I helped Katie (the sister) set up a dropshot rig with a nightcrawler, then decided to add a bobber. She just got her first fishing license, and this was her first time putting worms on the hook by herself. After quite a bit of convincing, she even cut crawlers in half so she wasn't using whole worms. Good work Katie.

We fished, we ate deviled eggs, tortilla chips, blueberries, subs; and I proceeded to empty a variety of IPA bottles. Good stuff, IPA's. The grocery store didn't have any Bell's Two-hearted IPA (you know, the label with a trout on it) so I got Huma-hopalicious, which I first enjoyed at our rehearsal dinner almost a year ago. (Whoa, almost a year ago!!) Fishing, and beer, two things I love. Oh yeah, and there was family too. :-)

We drifted around the lake, without much control over our location. The wind was relentless. Every so often, we'd get a tap or two, but nothing strong and no hookups. After an hour or two, I was frustrated. I remembered reading a post referring to Lake Nepessing as "Lake Not-a-thing." I thought about how skunk-tastic Busse Lake usually is, but my persistence has often paid off with big fish.

Eventually we repositioned ourself to be just upwind (I think that's the term) of the weedlines. The wind slowly pushed us back into open water, but finally we were able to land some fish!

First fish of the afternoon! That's Katie in the background

Small, and not especially feisty, but hey- at least we beat the skunk. Caught a few more little guys, but at this point honestly I didn't mind. As much as I claim to love fishing, I actually love catching, and if I don't have a choice I'd rather catch dinks than not catch monsters. Claire landed a veritable monster (it was tiny.. at least it was pretty) but unfortunately Katie and my dad weren't having too much luck.

Another itty-bitty guy

We saw some other boats fishing on the west side of the lake at the weedlines, so we decided to move over there. As we were approaching, we saw a guy on the boat posing for a picture, holding a fish. It looked big. As we got closer, we realized it was really big.

"What did you catch?" I shouted. The guy turned towards me, and we saw the full length glory of what he was holding. It was very big. "27 inch pike" he shouted back.

I won't lie, even though writing a second-hand account like this always provides the opportunity to get away with it. I was devastated. Up until this point, I was happy catching dinky little fish, it was fun, and we were having a good time. I figured that was the best we could do for now, and since nobody else seemed to be catching fish I didn't feel too bad.

But 27 inches of michigan pike, now that's something to be jealous of.

It was on. I grabbed a different rod and rigged a white spinnerbait, something I've heard pike are very fond of. I began to cast feverishly; oh man I wanted to hook into something longer than 3". We were in a perfect position, right at the weedlines, so I cast parallel to the weeds just along the edge. When that didn't produce, I tried casting perpendicular, from shallow to deep water. Nothing.

I switched to a medium diving crank. Did the same thing, and nothing. No follows, taps; nothing.

I looked back at the boat with the master pike-catcher on board. I squinted, trying to see what he had tied to the end of the line. I saw something spinning, reflecting the setting sun. It seemed smaller than a safety-pin style spinner, maybe it was a crankbait? For whatever reason I didn't shout out again to ask him what he was using. I didn't want to seem desperate, even though I was.

I felt a little bad at this point, as I was determined to catch a monster, and had stopped eating and drinking and talking with my family, and gone into fish-finding mode. I scanned the surface, trying to find anything that would belie the location of fish. I squinted through my polarized sunglasses, trying to see any tiny flash under the water that could be a fish, any fish. Nothing.

Eventually, we continued drifting around the lake, trying different spots. I threw everything I could think of- cranks, spinners, wacky-rigged senkos, tubes, minnow-tipped jigs- and nothing. I knew I could have probably landed some more baby fish with some nightcrawlers, but that was of no interest to me at that point.

The sun set behind the trees, creating a beautiful painting of a sky, a really great backdrop to our fishing. I wasn't going to catch a monster today. It would have been nice to catch a nice fish, and it was frustrating to see someone else catch such a specimen, but it was still a great day on the water. When you get down to it, you can't really beat fishing on a boat, on a beautiful day, with family, tons of snacks, and many many delicious beers.