Fishing in Kalamazoo

This weekend Claire and I were in Kalamazoo, Michigan helping my little sister move. Obviously I wanted to take the opportunity to do some fishing. I woke up at 5am EST (4am my time) on Sunday morning, headed to the nearest supplier of coffee (Starbucks wasn't open yet, McDonalds still did the trick) and made my way north to a small trout stream I'd read about on the Internet. I figured I could try for some stream trout for a while, then hit the Kalamazoo river since I'd be fishing very close to it.

There was supposed to be a street going to the stream, a street where I could park and not have to traverse any private property. Turns out this street was a dirt road, and it was closed. I spent about twenty minutes trying to find a way to get to the stream. Finally I found another part of it, farther upstream from the Kalamazoo, but it was clearly private property. The stream was about ten feet wide, and it most certainly ran through a series of backyards.

Well, I thought, I wouldn't be catching any trout this morning. I made yet another u-turn in the deserted country backroads and headed toward downtown Kalamazoo. Every now and then I'd stop and take a look at the map, trying to figure out some river access that wasn't private property. At one point I pulled into a seemingly abandoned industrial complex of some kind. There was river access, but it was behind very tall barbed wire fences.

I drove to a city park on the river, and when I got there I realized I'd actually fished there before. Last year, I happened to be in town and tried fishing from the bridge. Back then I didn't have a clue about river fishing (I still only have a clue, not much else) and was, as expected, skunked. This time I had waders, quickly made my way into the water.

A few years ago there was a major oil spill on the Kalamazoo, but cleaning efforts have been mostly concluded, except for a few stretches. There was no sign of the oil spill where I was; the river looked like a normal river. A lot more urban than I expected; reminded me of the Desplaines River in Chicago with its high banks that made me think of erosion. I was surprised by the depth and sandy bottom of the river. I was also surprised by the lack of current breaks in the form of rocks; there were some downed trees, and there was a bridge, and that was it. No boulders, at least as far as I could see.

I got some hits, then pulled out a monstrous 9" rock bass on a tube that immediately self-released from my hands. It was good to catch a fish- there's always a lot of (self-inflicted) pressure to catch at least one fish. After that I can relax a little.

Casting everywhere, I decided that if I were a smallmouth bass, I'd probably prefer an area with a rocky bottom and more current. The only place that existed was around the bridge, so I headed in that direction. I worked the downstream sides of the columns but no takers. Under the bridge there was a little riffle, and when I cast to it I was rewarded with my first Kalamazoo River smallie.

Pretty fish

Not a trophy, but a good solid fish with nice colors. I worked that area for another half hour, and when I decided to leave and find another spot, at least 10 tube jigs stayed behind, attached to various underwater obstructions. I couldn't retrieve them when I went to check out the spot, but I did notice a bunch of boulders; it appeared the smallies were hiding behind them. I also found a submerged stereo. I wondered if there were times fish gathered behind it, using it to hide from the current.

the "wet" knob on the reverb must have been turned up all the way (music nerd joke)

 

 

I got into my car and brought up Maps on my phone. I wanted to find a place with more current breaks, more variation in water depth. The river was mostly straight near me, but there was one big curve in the river. I know from the internet and some experience that in river bends the inside bend will be shallow, the outside deeper. I also have seen that bends like that tend to deposit trees and other current breaks as the current changes, providing more places for fish to hide. I headed to the curve.

It took me a while to figure out where to legally park and how to get down to the water. On one attempt I stumbled upon some homeless people living in a tent under a bridge. I suppose they could have been camping, but it looked like they'd been there for weeks. I wondered what I would do if I suddenly didn't have a place to live; permanently camping by a river seemed like a perfectly reasonable solution. I wondered if they would ask for some fish if I caught any, and if I should give them any. I decided I probably would give them some, even though the water quality wasn't the best. A contaminated fish might be better than no food at all.

After some major bushwacking through a solid wall of foliage, I stumbled down into the river and saw exactly what I was looking for. Lots of rocks, boulders, downed trees, bridge columns, deep water, shallow water; Maybe it was luck or maybe it was me, but either way I found a great spot. My good choice was confirmed as a good choice when I caught another smallie hanging out in a bunch of riffles.

Kzoo river smallie #2

 I lost some more tubes, got a few hits, and really enjoyed the experience. I was fishing in downtown Kalamazoo, a half mile from the Union where I'd played more than a hundred gigs... But I'd never seen this spot, nor had I fished it. I wonder what other hidden jewels I miss as I drive over bridges.

I was almost out of tubes, so I thought I'd try another approach. I definitely use tubes and jigs too much for smallies; I've never caught one on anything else. I pulled out a gold and red spinner I made (with a paperclip for the wire shaft) and clipped it to my line. When I was testing its action in the water not two feet away from me, I saw and felt fish come up and nip at it! Awesome! I'd been standing still for a few minutes, and it appeared fish were using me as a current break. I had heard of that happening, but never experienced it myself.

So I cast out my spinner, downstream into the current break I was creating, and sure enough connected with a fish. Another rock bass. My first river fish on a homemade spinner! I made it extra heavy to dive deeper in heavy current. This seemed to be the perfect place to use it.

I made that spinner! First fish caught in my own wake

It took about 5 minutes to remove the treble hooks, but after a few minutes holding the fish in the slack water behind me, he came to and swam away just fine. As I was doing so some guys came upstream in a boat, giving me dirty looks. I wondered if I was in "their" spot. I asked them how they were doing, but they didn't seem interested in talking to me.

I caught another rock bass behind me, but couldn't coax anymore smallies. Nobody asked me for fish, nor did I see anybody in the tent. Maybe they were still asleep; it was early after all.

When the time came I made the reverse bushwhacking trip through the thick trees; it seemed clear to me not too many people fished this spot. At least not wading. I wondered if wading in the Kzoo was a bad idea after the oil spill; but I didn't see even the slightest indication of any topwater oil slicks or contaminated rocks or plants. I know that doesn't always mean it's clean, but I felt fairly protected by my waders. Except for the small leak they seem to have developed. I guess I'll find out...

Although I didn't do any trout fishing like I'd hoped, it was a good outing with some nice fish. 2 smallies, 3 rock bass. One of those guys was a GIANT! Not the best trip, but certainly not the worst. It's very encouraging to know that, at least in some circumstances, I can explore a new body of water and successfully find fish.

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.

Adventures in Kayaking on the Fox River

loaded up and ready to go

After a great and incredibly informative outing with Sam Bennett the day before, I headed back out to the river. This time, my kayak was strapped to my roof, and my car was chock full of gear. The only time I'd kayaked the Fox was in the fall, right at I-90. At the time there was almost no current and I didn't manage to land a single fish.... But after many trips to the river, I had more experience and a better idea where to find them. Hanging out with Sam certainly didn't hurt my understanding of the river either.

I figured I'd launch near my usual stretch of the river, and paddle around looking for good spots. Although I've caught smallies holding close to shore in practically no current, most of them have come from seams, relating to the current. Seams, I'm fairly positive, are the things between two different currents; the area where a faster current and a slower current meet. It seems to me smallies like to hang out on either side of a seam, perhaps catching a quick bite as the conveyor-belt-like current delivers snacks to their mouths. I had a fairly good idea where to find them; now the task was to locate these places in the kayak and fish them.

I managed to bring my kayak and all my gear to the river in two short trips from my car. My kayak is light enough I can carry it on one shoulder, so I can fill my other arm with paddles, rods, and even my anchor. Looking at my watch I noticed I was in the water, in the kayak, exactly one hour after leaving my driveway in Itasca. That's pretty good! Only took me about 15 minutes to get the kayak off my car, take it to the water, rig up the rod holders, paddle, rods, tackle backpack, anchor, and then suit in my waders.

my kayak, fully loaded and ready to do some fishing

Immediately I realized this wouldn't be as easy as I'd been imagining; most of my kayaking has been done in little or no current. As soon as I paddled out into the river, the relentless current began to push me downstream. I paddled furiously, but watching the trees on the bank stand motionless, I realized I wasn't actually going anywhere. I looked down and saw the bottom of the river about a foot under the water. Instead of paddling like a madman against the current, I just hopped out of the kayak. I tied a line to the aft of the yak, and clipped it to my vest. Although the current pushed the kayak downstream, my body weight kept it from getting away from me.

I had visions of the clip snapping and watching my prized boat quickly float down the river away from me. I wondered if I'd run after it. I wondered if I would eventually find it at the bottom of a dam farther downstream...

I worked my way upstream, trying out a variety of lu res. This time I brought three rods with me- my kayak was like a fancy rod holder, holding all my gear so I didn't have to wear it all. One on I snapped crankbaits onto a swivel snap; one I tied on jigs (twister tails and tubes); and on the third I rigged a slip bobber with a 1" gulp alive minnow. I've been hearing great things about these little minnows, so earlier in the day I picked some up at Dick's. It was so great to be able to quickly try out a different lure without having to retie.

I made my way close to the first spot Sam and I visited the day before. This time I could work the eddy from the opposite side- standing in the water I seemed to have a much better angle of attack. With a white twister, I cast right into the seam about 5 feet from the bank of a little island. Immediately I got a small hit, but my hook set launched the jig out of the water instead of into the fish.

Well at least I found some fish!

I keep thinking about something I've read repeatedly- 90% of the fish are in 10% of the water. Who knows if this is true, it did come from the internet after all. But based on my limited experience, this absolutely seems to be true. It makes me all the more prouder when out of the entire river at my disposal, I manage to find that 10% where there are actually fish. I didn't give myself a pat on the back though, since I'd missed that fish.

No matter what I did, I couldn't get it to give me a second chance for a picture of the two of us. I slowly waded toward the eddy, towing my kayak behind me.

I noticed a few people fly fishing across the river. They were talking very loudly (something I didn't think fly fishermen did) but they were having a good time.

I waded through the eddy, trying to get some more fish to bite. Nobody wanted my gulp minnow under a slip bobber, something I was pretty disappointed about. I'd have to try it at the pond later... [I actually did try it later that night, and I watched bluegill come up and stare at it. The same thing happened a few weeks ago after a cold front- it's one thing to read about cold front fishing on the internet, another to see a bluegill refuse some delicious bait.]

Confident there were no fish to be had in the immediate area, I hopped into my kayak and started to paddle upstream. Difficult does not even begin to describe how it was trying to paddle upstream through a small break in two little islands. The current was so strong, my weak kayaking arms were no match. And then, paying attention to the various currents and seams, I managed to move the kayak into an area of slightly slower current. Slowly but surely, I was gaining inches against the river! After a few minutes I made it past the current and eddy, and was on the other side.

I fished for a moment before I realized the current was taking me back where I had just been! Quickly paddling, I made my way to a little gravel bar and "parked" the kayak on the rocks.

Nothing there, I continued paddling upstream. I was now in an area I think might be called "flats"- a large area without much current or change in depth. And then BAM! BAMBAM! I ran right into a giant boulder. My kayak tipped, the current trying to convince it to capsize, a stream of profanity came from my mouth. I got the boat level, and tried to paddle around the rock.

Losing the battle, I decided to step out of the kayak and tow it upstream instead, as I had done earlier. As soon as I tried getting out, one leg in the water and one in the kayak, the current ripped the kayak downstream, and I started to do the splits in the river. I grabbed a rope I'd tied to the stern, bringing the boat closer and easing my burning thighs. Finally I got my other foot out of the yak, and was standing in the flats.

I saw what I guessed was a carp swimming around; I was pretty sure carp like to hang out in shallow flats like this. Later in my nonstop internet fishing research I read walleyes also like to hang out in flats at dawn and dusk- I'd have to remember this spot.

As I slowly waded upstream, I cast a bit but didn't expect much. There wasn't much cover or current, I doubted there would be any smallies here. Although I really want to catch a carp, I wasn't sure how to approach it with the selection of lures I had with me. I noticed the sky was now dark and ominous; actually it had been getting darker all along, but I'd been too busy almost flipping my kayak to notice.

I saw a few sprinkles come down, and then more, and then it was outright raining. No thunder though, so I figured I'd be fine. Then it started to REALLY rain. Heavy, cold raindrops falling straight down into my open kayak, onto my flannel fleece and Bell's Two-Hearted Ale hat. For whatever reason, I decided perhaps I should head closer to the shore, maybe even downstream closer to my car... Just in case I wanted to quickly exit the river.

It's amazing how quickly one can move with the current downstream in a river, especially after fighting the current the whole way upstream. It's also amazing how easy it is to miss boulders in the water, even though normally I scour for them because fish hang out around them. Paddling down the river full speed, I see the boulder a few microseconds before my kayak and I ram into it with the full force and speed of the river.

kaBAM! BAMABMAB!

Once again I almost found myself in the river proper, but thanks to my durable kayak and questionable paddling skills, I managed to stay afloat and in the boat. I seem to remember a particular curse word coming out of my mouth repeatedly as I sped toward the rock, but that didn't stop my kayak from ramming the boulder. I was glad to have the kayak I had, and not a more fragile fiberglass one that might have just shattered on that rock.

I continued downstream as the rain picked up even more. It's a very interesting sound, surrounded by water as the rain falls- it would have been more pleasing if I hadn't been getting soaked and carefully watching for more boulders as I sped down the river. I quickly passed the two fly fisher-people (a man and a lady) who were huddled under an overhanging tree. As the rain pelted the top of my kayak loudly, I decided it would be a good idea to find some shelter under some trees as well.

I found an area with overhanging trees that happened to be full of rocks that seemed to be close to deeper water. Seemed like a spot I'd be in if I were a fish- I figured the rain might knock bugs off the trees into the water, not to mention the near safety of deeper water and possible crayfish in the rocks.

First cast with the white twister, right into some submerged branches, and I'd hooked into my first kayak bass!

Although I've caught bluegill, perch, and even catfish in the yak, I had yet to catch a bass. I did hook into a real nice one at Busse, but I couldn't maintain the tension and it threw the hook at the last moment.

This time was different- this smallie was clearly a little lethargic, and quickly tired out. It ran a few times, but I managed to keep him on the little hook. Excited, overjoyed, I hauled in my scrappy catch over the side and into the kayak. I caught a fish!

the single fish of the day.. a beauty

Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing wrong; I commonly read of 5-10 fish caught per outing, even in this cold weather... And I'm lucky to tangle with even one. I chalk it up to lack of experience and technique- I hope someday to make multiple-fish outings a regular occurrence.

But when I looked at this fish, this beautifully patterned smallmouth bass, it was all good. I coaxed him out of hiding, tricked him into thinking my little bit of metal and plastic was food. Out of the 90% of water where there probably weren't any fish, I somehow fished the 10% where they were. Success! It certainly doesn't hurt to have people like Sam giving me tips.

I worked that spot for at least 45 minutes after that fish, the rain collecting in the trees and falling into the river in much bigger drops. Falling onto my head too. I paddled to a few other spots, I found a trench where walleye might hide (?) and made a mental note of it for later. The other anglers told me they pulled 4 smallies out of the rocky area where I got the one- later I wondered if I should have downsized my presentation to get more fish...

I was completely soaked, there was a growing pool of water in my kayak, and the rain showed no signs of stopping. I made the call to call it a day. It was only when I took off my various layers of soaking wet outwear I realized how wet I had gotten! My baseball cap weighed at least 20 pounds due to all the water; I could barely lift up my flannel. All in all a great outing, very instructive, and perhaps a nice story too.

the two of us together
(notice the rain-soaked flannel)

Fishing in the wind and the rain

Wading in the rain

Sunday afternoon I found myself standing in the water on the Fox River, watching storm clouds fly far over my head. Occasionally they decided to open up and sprinkle me with water. Thankfully there was no thunder or lightening, so I stayed in the water fishing.

Counting up my trips now, I count this as my 45th fishing trip since January 1. That's a lot of fishing! But just like saxophone or anything else, practice makes perfect.

I worked a slightly different stretch than I usually do (thanks for the tips Ken) and it was great to do some exploring. This was my first time wading where I started in short sleeves (got my waders in October) but I quickly put on a sweatshirt on account of the hurricane-like winds.

Storms coming...

Lately I've been torn between working one lure in many different ways or many different lures more quickly... This trip I gave each lure about 20 minutes each to prove itself, trying to find out what the fish wanted. I mostly stuck with white jig and twister and olive tube jig, but I also threw a white spinnerbait, crankbaits, and a swimjig. I actually got hits on the spinnerbait, but they were surprisingly light. I mostly fished a particular seam, as well as an area right next to a rock wall.

They were hanging right up against the wall

I had it on good authority that there might be fish in this spot... I stood here for quite some time, throwing lures into the wall and watching them plop down into the water. My first cast here I got a hit right on the drop, but couldn't connect. Second cast with my olive tube jig, and a smallie smashes it like a semi running over a watermelon!

Chunky Fox River smallie

This one put up quite a fight too- I was surprised it didn't jump out of the water though... So far none of the smallies I've caught this year have done that. I guess the water is still a little cold- I bet in a few weeks they'll be back throwing my hook like in October.

What are these bones from?

Taking a break from fishing, I did a little exploring and found a bunch of interesting bones. They seemed like fish bones, but I couldn't figure out where on the fish they would come from... I wondered if they were the work of a lazy fisherman or a hungry animal.

Then I noticed a lure sitting on the rocks a few inches from the bones, which made me think it was the work of a fisherman. Looked like a lure a smallie would go for. I don't have anything against people keeping legal-sized fish for the table- but I always think of the smallmouth bass as a game fish, a fighting fish, not really for eating. I hope this one was of a legal size, if that's what the bones were from.

And I hope it was tasty, whatever it was. That's actually one of my greatest worries about harvesting fish- catching a nice fish and not giving it the honor of a delicious preparation.

If it's a nice fish with a nice fight, the least you could do is cook it up real nice out of respect.

Another new lure

Turns out this was my first found lure on the Fox! The lip was gone, but I have lure making supplies at home... I could fix it. It occurred to me that only one of the crankbaits I've been using was actually purchased by me- all the rest were found while fishing or kayaking. I think it evens out when I think about how many expensive lures I've lost on the first cast.

After about four hours of fishing with only a few light bites and one fish, I decided to throw in the towel and head home.

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.

Little Adventures on the Fox

Early morning on the Fox

I'm definitely addicted to river fishing.

My first experience was last fall when I was on a mission to catch some smallmouth bass. At first, it was very overwhelming to me- all the different patterns of current on the water, it seemed difficult to control lures in the current, and of course I had no idea where I'd find fish. I caught my first smallies of last year from the shore, but soon got waders, and started catching the feisty fish in their living rooms. After much google-searching, forum reading, and many hours on the river, I think I'm starting to figure it out. At least a little.

There's something almost magical about walking into a river, literally surrounded by nature and geese and ducks and fish and squirrels and current and bugs that is a completely different experience from lake fishing. I still love lake and pond fishing too, hey I just love fishing period. But river fishing, man, that's where it's at. When a hooked smallie can swim around you in circles, that's definitely a unique experience.

Headed back to the Fox on Wednesday morning, hoping to continue my trend of catching at least one fish on every Fox trip. I haven't been having the same luck at other waters lately, but somehow I've been avoiding the skunk on the river. I got there before sunrise, made the short hike to the water, and started fishing.

As is the theme lately, the water was stupidly cold. There was a week, I think last week, when water temperatures everywhere went up- but that week has been erased from history, and all the waters I've been fishing are back to their low temperatures. The air temperature was relatively nice, but standing in the frigid water, I felt like it could have been well below freezing out.

Especially when the water came up above my midsection region, if you know what I mean. When that happens, for some reason, everything seems MUCH colder.

And then there was the wind. My phone said it was gusting to speeds of 35 mph. As I worked my way up the river (for some reason I decided to wade upstream instead of downstream) at various times I was casting into the wind. Sometimes there would be no wind, but as soon as I cast the wind would viciously pick up, sending my lure right into some trees.

And then there was my line. I've been using braided line this year- got it for Christmas - and have been absolutely loving it. I was running out of line, so I learned the yucatan knot and spooled on some mono line to the little bit of braid I had left. I forgot about mono and it's memory, the way it stays somewhat spooled up even when you cast it. The wind plus my new line gave me no end of frustartions; every 10th cast I'd have to fix a bird's nest.

And the fish weren't cooperating. In my recent effort to diversify my lure offerings, I changed my lure and presentation every 15 minutes or so. Reading reports of people catching smallies on everything from white spinners to crankbaits to stickbaits, I tied those on and tried them out. All of my smallies to date have come from jig'n'twisters or tubes. That means anytime I have something else tied on my line, I wonder if I shouldn't switch back to what I know has worked in the past. But no- I need to figure out what the fish want, not what I want to throw.

The sun was lighting up the treetops on the west bank of the river

Standing on the east side of the river, I looked to the west side, which was being illuminated by the rising sun. I thought about the water temperature, and wondered if the water might be warmer over there. If I were a fish, I might prefer to be in warmer water... So I decided to try something new, and cross the river.

I'd seen the river in very low level conditions last year, so I had some idea of what was under the surface. Watching the currents on the surface, I had some guesses into the deeper parts and the shallower parts. There were geese standing in inches of water, which gave me some more hints. I started wading out into the river.

At first it was fine; as I slowly made my way across, I fished any place that seemed fishy. Areas where the water was deeper or went in little circles (pools?), areas where two flows of water met (seams?) and areas around obstructions (riffles?). I'm still not entirely sure about the terminology.

And then I found myself standing in water up to my chest in very quickly flowing water. I didn't have my wading staff, and I started to worry. I moved at a snail's pace through the water, imagining the current picking me up and sending me downstream to Yorkville or some other place. I was excruciatingly close to the opposite shore, just a matter of feet, but I couldn't find a safe route there. Looking at the water, I identified some areas I thought were deeper areas (pools?) which I soon confirmed with my feet. A few times I almost found out exactly how deep they were.

I was within 10 feet of the shore, I held my arms up to avoid the water, I kept my side facing the flow of water to present a smaller surface area, but it was slow going. Some geese sitting on the shore honked and squawked at me. I wondered if I should head back. Instead, I kept going.

Finally, I made it to the shore. I slowly emerged from the water, my waders dripping all the way up to my chest, my legs feeling very light now that they weren't constantly being hit with flowing water. The geese dispersed angrily, and I stopped to catch my breath. There was a very weathered picnic table on the island, I sat down to rest, and ate some muffins and beef jerky. I didn't question why there was an old picnic table on this island, I was just thankful for a nice spot to rest.

I think this is now mostly used by geese

I looked back at the river, wondering how I would get back across. I imagined myself stranded, only beef jerky and any fish I caught to sustain me. Sometimes I daydream about being stuck in nature, or a post-apocalyptic world. Then I'd have to fish to survive, and I'd have to basically camp 24/7. That sounds exciting to me, until I think about the stuff I wouldn't have, like music or computers or cast iron cookware. Little adventures like this is probably a good middle ground; it would probably be best if there is no zombie apocalypse.

After a few minutes I headed back to the water. The whole idea of crossing the river was to fish on this side (which turned out to actually be an island in the middle of the river) so I fished. The whole morning I hadn't seen any baitfish or anything else that obviously clued me in to the bigger fish. As I entered the water, scanning the surface to locate fishy areas, I heard loud squawking and hissing a feet feet behind me.

I turned around and saw a seemingly gigantic goose, next to a pile of straw and sticks and eggs, who was extremely pissed.

Then I saw another goose who also started to hiss and honk and yell at me.

I was standing in 3 feet of water, very close to shore, and these geese were getting angry. The one by the nest was lowering (her?) head, and it reminded me of nature videos of snakes right before they pounce. I didn't want to get pounced on! I made it this far, I wasn't going to get knocked down by a goose.

I quickly shuffled out into the water, away from the angry geese. They continued to hiss, but didn't seem to be coming after me. (A few hours later, I'd read of a very similar account by Ken G in his blog. I guess it's a recreational hazard, attacking geese that is...)

I tried everything I knew around this new shore; tubes, jigs, swimgjigs, crankbaits, spinners, inline spinners, and nothing. I thought I saw some baitfish boils every now and then, but couldn't connect with any fish. After a while, I headed back to the east shore.

On my way, I discovered some more deeper holes, and large areas without a change in depth (flats?). I was once again in water up to my chest, but the current wasn't as strong as before. I made it to the other side more easily this time, but had to leave the water because I was freezing cold.

I sat down on a log to eat a snack, a PB & J sandwich I'd prepared early in the morning, well before sunrise. I found a clearing with sunlight, hoping to warm up my legs before I went back to fishing. I bit down into a mushy, soaking wet sandwich. For a split second I was extremely confused, and then I remembered there was a backpack on my back... That was surely underwater for an extended period of time in one of my river crossings.

A few minutes later, I carefully stepped back into the water. I discovered at this particular location, there is a 2 foot drop from the shore to the riverbed. Miraculously, I had the foresight to check the depth with a tree branch before walking (falling) in, so I once again avoided being soaked my the river.

Now I worked my way downstream, casting my entire arsenal, and then it happened. I had cycled back to the good old jig'n'twister, cast it downstream right into a seam, and connected with a fish. After a short reeling in (not much of a battle at all, this fish seemed very lethargic... The water was very cold, as all my parts knew firsthand) I pulled a beautiful little smallmouth bass out of the water. I giggled like a schoolgirl.

Bronze gold!

One of the benefits of fishing super early on weekday mornings is usually there isn't anybody else fishing. That means I can fully express my child-like ecstacy when I catch a dink of a fish, without worrying what other anglers think. Of course I write about it here, but if you read this blog you probably know even the smallest fish makes me giddy, and if you didn't like that you could just stop reading.

And then, it was time to go. My legs were freezing cold, my now wet hands were being blown by the wind, causing everything to seem even colder, and a few more minutes of fishing hadn't found any more willing sparring partners.

I walked out of the river, with my soaking wet backpack and aching legs, jumped in my car, and turned the heat on full blast.

I love smallmouth bass

Kayak wading Salt Creek

I'm going to attempt a short post.

I realize I often write and write and write, probably to the point of rambling. I'm going to try a new thing here, and write a short, succinct post. This trip is a good candidate for that, since not much happened.

Even though there was a cold front coming through (I was in a kayak in Beck Lake when it happened, and let me tell you it was definitely cold) I had to get out and do some more exploring. My kayak was already strapped to my car, and my waders were already in the trunk, so I headed out. I stopped by Salt Creek a few days ago to check it out, but had a hard time getting into the water. I figured I'd take the kayak out, and if I found some fishy spots I could get out and wade.

While I unloaded the kayak, a forest preserve officer in a truck watched me. I wondered if I was doing something wrong and was about to get a ticket or something. Once I got the kayak to the water, he moved along. Got the yak in the creek, two rods in the rod holders, waders on, fishing vest stuffed with gear, and off I went.

Kayakin' the Salt

This was the first time I've kayaked with waders, and I love it. I got out of the yak about 15 times to fish promising spots, but didn't get even a hit. I'm sure the cold front doesn't help. I've heard of pike, musky, and even smallies in the creek, but I've only caught panfish and tiny largemouth bass in it so far. I threw some inline spinners (I love how they look in current), jigs and twisters, tubes, cranks, but nothing.

It was a nice paddle up the creek, and it was fun to float back, casting the whole way. A lot of the creek where I was had a very rocky bottom, which is very different from the bottom farther north. Where I usually fish it it's a mucky mud bottom. The water down here was also much clearer, about a foot of visibility. Although residential areas surround the creek, at times I felt like I was much farther away from civilization. Except for the jumbo jets flying overhead every five minutes on their way to O'hare, the busiest airport in the world, a few miles to the east.

I spent about two hours in the creek, and it was a very enjoyable experience. I saw plenty of baitfish, so I'm sure there are gamefish around. I found the baitfish by trying to read the water, to figure out where fish might be... And at least as far as baitfish are concerned, I found them! Now I just have to find whoever is eating the baitfish. I'd love to catch some nice bass wading in a stream 15 minutes from my house.... I'll definitely be back.

I hit the retention pond on the way home, and nada there too. Oh well, the season is just starting, and I'm getting tons of casting practice.

Smallies on the Fox

The prize of the day- 16-17" smallmouth bass
(The biggest I've caught, I think)

I've been having a skunk fest the past week or so. For as often as I've been fishing (pretty much every day, sometimes twice a day) the number of fish I've been catching is dismal. I want to chalk it up to the season and the weird weather, but reading reports of others having great luck has been a little disheartening.

I decided to head to the Fox River, which I think I can say now is my absolute favorite place to fish. Ever. I really like the Rogue River in Michigan, with it's crystal clear water and all the baby trout I caught there, but it's not the Fox. Last fall I caught my first smallie there (well, my first smallie when I knew what it was I caught) and caught a few more before winter. I had my first experience wading on the Fox. Last October I caught the biggest smallie I'd caught...It's a great river!

Woke up at 5am, brewed coffee, heated up some oatmeal, jumped in the car, cranked "Common" Pandora radio, and headed west. My plan was to get to the river a little before sunrise, and that I did. Thankfully the gate was open, and I rolled in greeted by an empty parking lot. Just the way I like it! Hopped out of the car, jumped into my waders, and a few short minutes later I was on the water.

For whatever reason, I decided to work my way south from my starting point. I know many people say you should always fish upstream so your lures are retrived with the current (and you don't spook the fish) but I've had much more luck doing the opposite. Before entering the river, I fan cast the area just in case there happened to be a hog chilling out close to shore. (And it happens too- this spot was where I landed the big smallie in the fall, about 3 feet from shore in 2 FOW!)

Duck, goose, goose, goose

No fish, so I walked into the river. The water level was higher than I was used to, and it was flowing relatively fast. It took me a few minutes to remember how to wade, especially since I haven't been using my wading staff (broom handle) this year. The sun slowly made it's way up, although you wouldn't know it due to all the clouds. There were geese (but not too many), woodpeckers, those black birds with red on their wings, and lots of other animals I heard but didn't see. As the water rushed around my legs, I remembered why I came here- even if I didn't land any fish, this alone was worth the car ride!

I spent half my time admiring nature and half my time bouncing my little jig up and down in the river. Every now and then I would switch out the jig and twister for a tube jig, since both have landed me fish on the river before. I worked my way downstream, trying to read the river and figure out what was under the surface. If I were a fish, where would I want to be? Areas with less current? Seams between fast and slow water? Around fallen timber? I've caught fish in all these places before...

About half an hour in, I found myself standing under some very low hanging tree branches. I'd caught some smallies here before; they had been hanging out under the branches, perhaps eating bugs that fell off the tree, or getting some shade, or eating smaller fish that were eating bugs and getting shade. Dazed by nature, I accidentally hooked a tree branch 6" from my head, and in unhooking it with a cast it splashed into the water right next to me. And there was another big splash, about a foot from my knees, that definitely was not caused by my jig.

Whenever this happens, I always cast right into the splash, just in case. I did this time too, and suddenly my jig was hooked to a fish!

This one gave me the stink eye

In my limited experience with smallmouth bass, I have tremendous respect for the fish as an adversary. They seem a lot more savy than other fish, they are strong from living in current, and if I can manage finding them and hooking them, they are extremely good at throwing the hook in a show of aerial acrobatics. This is why they are so fun! They aren't like the average fish- they are fighters.

This one was no different- as soon as it realized it was hooked, it sped through the water like a missile. I tried to keep tension on the fish, trying to keep it hooked to my line- I just wanted a few pictures of the two of us. The fish swam around me three times, and as it did I spun around, following it, keeping the line tense. After a short battle, I got it close enough I could lip it, and it stared at me angrily.

Hooray, I caught a fish! At this moment I forgot of all the times I'd caught nothing and only thought of how great this was, what an awesome fish this was, and what a great day to be out on the water fighting little feisty fish. After a few snapshots, I returned the little guy to the water, and he happily swam away.

Mission accomplished. I beat the skunk. Well worth getting up at 5am! But of course I wasn't done yet, I was just getting started...

I worked that area for a bit, but there were no other takers. Maybe I scared them all away with my jig explosion. No worries, I just continued downstream, half-absentmindedly casting and retrieving, taking in the sounds and sights around me.

And then all of the sudden I saw a bald eagle in a tree. I immediately knew what it was, and knew they hung out around the river sometimes, but I'd never seen one myself. Maybe it's not that big a deal, but I've certainly never seen a bird like that in nature. It was giant, perched on a branch near the top of a tree. I was stopped in my tracks in awe of this impressive bird, and slowly reached into my pocket to get my phone, hoping I wouldn't scare it away.

Bald eagle!

I stood there, transfixed, for a few minutes, until it suddenly flew away. I've seen a bald eagle flying away on countless times- movies, commercials, shows, etc. but it's even better in person.

Eventually I made my way to a small stretch of the river where I'd had the most luck in past outings. I don't know what it was about this stretch, but there always seemed to be a smallie there waiting for me. What's even weirder is there's almost no current, no change in bottom composition, no holes (that I know of) and it's not particularly close to any seams or riffles. Does that mean it's a pool? I'm still foggy on the nomenclature for these things.

I worked my little white twister tail all around, trying to cover the whole area. And then, BAM there was a fish on my line! I could tell as soon as I felt it that it was a much bigger fish than the previous one... Maybe even bigger than any other smallie I'd caught. I caught a glimpse of it in the water, and it was confirmed- big.

Where the other fish fought by swimming in circles, this bigger fish used it's brute strength. It zigged and zagged, and not very quickly either, almost casually trying to get away. I kept the tension, my rod tip bent over, and all I could think was "keep it on, keep it on, holy crap, keep it on!" As I brought it closer to the surface I saw it's whole body, and wanted even more to land it! This was almost certainly the biggest fish I'd hooked on the Fox.

I was standing about 10 feet from shore- I carefully moved toward the shore, easing the big fish to the shore as well. I didn't want to loose it. Then in one fell swoop, I reached down and lipped it. I won the battle! Two for two. And this was a beauty!

I kneeled on the shore, admiring my catch. It had ferocious red eyes, and it glared at me (in anger? or confusion?) It had a big belly, and was a lot heavier than it looked. It reminded me of good produce- it should be heavier than it looks. This was an awesome fish, and although I was happy with my first fish of the way, I was ecstatic with this hog.

Ok, I need to weigh it... And then I realized my brand new boga grip was in my garage, for some reason I didn't bring it. Damn! Well I wouldn't be able to get a weight... I held the monster up to my rod so I could measure later. I had no idea how long it was, but it was most certainly the biggest smallmouth bass I'd ever caught. (Later I measured on my rod, and I estimate the fish at 16-17" long)

The fish in one hand, my iphone in the other, I scanned through my apps looking for that one photo app that has the picture timer on it. I wanted to get a shot of me holding the fish properly! No can-do, apparently I'd deleted it. Damn again! It occurred to me I could take a video, then grab a screen shot for a picture. I started recording, set my phone on some rocks, and very geekily filmed my catch.

Turns out this is my first fishing video! Maybe I should do more of these, maybe score them with some CB music as well... More on that later. Watching the video now the fish looks much smaller than it did on the river, but maybe that's how it goes. It looks much beefier in this picture:

Big fish (for me) on the Fox

After making the video, I brought the fish back to the water, held it there for bit to make sure it was ok. After a few seconds, it knew what was happening and casually swam out of my hands, away from this jerk who stuck it with a hook. Watching it swim away, I thought how crazy it was a big fish would want to eat such a small lure. I guess trout are like that too. Very strange. When I'm hungry, I want a big ol' pile of food!

I continued fishing, but I was already completely satisfied. I'd had so many recent outings without so much as a bite, I was overjoyed to have two nice fish in one morning. I didn't end up catching anything else, but did revisit the spot where I caught my first 2011 smallie. Every time I come here, I wonder how part of a car ended up on the riverbank.

How? Why?

Later that day I made my first visit to Beck Lake in my kayak. It was incredibly windy, incredibly cold, and nobody was catching anything.

Not much to say about it- the highlight of the evening was when the wind pushed me close to shore. I turned and found myself face to face with a beaver, sitting on the shore motionless, about a foot from my head.

In case you didn't get enough of her before

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.