The weekend began with Meg and I taking an impromptu run to Ohiopyle for a day of laying next to the river, bruising our butts on natural waterslides and raising enough fish on Stimulators to make us forget about the snakes that seemed to be around every corner.
Saturday is a day that will live forever in infamy as the day that my sometimes huge male ego was crushed to pieces by none other than my own girlfriend. Dad, Julia, Meghan and I spent the day floating the Yough looking for smallies and whatever else felt like eating what we were throwing at them. "Whatever else" ended up being, smallies, spotted bass, rock bass, sauger, saugeye and a walleye that would count as a trophy anywhere in the country. Throw in shots at carp, sheephead and the odd chance at a toothy critter and you have a recipe for a very interesting day (and that was just the fishing). Compound fishing with the antics of Julia and Meghan - who have earned themselves a reputation a reputation as "Matches & Gasoline" (I'm not sure which is which) - and the day is that much more entertaining.
To fill in the blanks; We had floated over 3/4 of the way throwing 8 weights rigged with standard smallie foods such as Gurglers, Lazy Strippers and both floating and sinking Clouser Minnows. For the uninitiated, this is about as close to rapid fire fishing as you can get. Hit the banks, strip the fly back and hit it again...and again...and again. Tired of fishing? Good. You can row until you are ready to fish again.
We may take it a bit easier on the girls, but I assure you that by the time we had reached the afrorementioned 3/4 point, there was a good bit of talk going around about sore casting arms and wrists. It is for this exact reason that Dad sometimes (very quietly) stuffs a spinning rod under the rowers seat.
I swear it wasn't two minutes after Meg tied on a 1/4 oz white spinnerbait when her drag started screaming and the biggest smallie of the day came into the boat.
Everyone was excited (except for Julia who had some choice words for Meg) and before that could even wear off, Meg's rod was bent in half again. This time, the fish was fighting hard, but a bit differently. It stayed deep and took a couple short runs before I caught a glimpse of it and screamed "Musky!" It turns out that my 4 years pursuing a fisheries biology degree were a complete waste of time, because I can't tell the difference between a musky and the biggest walleye any of us have seen in quite some time. The fish taped out at 24", which coincidentally was just small enough to fit right in our cooler and into a frying pan (in fillet form) shortly after. Yes; we are murderers, but if all fish tasted like walleye there would be a fillet knife shortage and no fish left to catch.
We returned home shortly after dark and I had made plans ot meet Dad back at the river in the morning. Upon looking at the weather forecast - which was calling for an 80% chance of severe T-Storms - we decided to bag the trip to avoid the risk of becoming barbeque.
Imagine my suprise when I woke up and saw just one little green blob on the radar. I swear if I ever see a weatherman on the street...
There was no time to be angry! It was 8am on a Sunday, and a cloudy Sunday nonetheless. I grabbed my gear and headed to the river to a creek mouth where I spotted and promptly proceeded to spook 3 of the biggest carp I have seen in quite some time. These weren't big, they were BIG. Big enough to have me wondering if 200 yds of backing was going to be enough. Needless to say, I never got to find out the answer to that question for multiple reasons...
Reason #1) Carp don't respond well to a weighted fly landing on their head in 8" of water.
Reason #2) It's hard to change flies when your hands are shaking
Reason #3) Carp are smarter than I am
The first two reasons are undeniable. Anyone who doesn't spend a considerable amount of time with me may question the third. But I swear, these fish are something else. To watch 15 lbs of fish swim up to your fly... smell it...and turn away to continue feeding and never look at that fly again is something that anyone who is breathing should try at least once. I'll leave it at that.
On the plus side, I stumbled onto another opportunity for a mixed bag day when I wandered up the creek and found chances to catch Carp, Sheephead, Smallies, Largemouth, Smallmouth Buffalo (I told you I had a fisheries degree) and even a Channel Catfish. I wish I could say I salvaged my ego by catching everything I saw, but only the bass were cooperating by trying to knock the claws off of my crayfish! 
Although the day was somewhat salvaged, I still hate the weatherman, I need to fool a carp again and I will be out fishing again this weekend. The forecast is calling for 90 degrees with a small chance of a shower...I may pack my snowsuit just in case.
No comments:
Post a Comment