Mike and I fished a new stretch of river on Sunday. I had been up til 3 playing cards the previous night, but met up by 8:30am and on the water around 10am. Big fish from new water are just better than a big fish from the same water, we decided 8-) . Despite being late in the year, we thought we'd give a new stretch a try. Bigger water, warm, clear despite 2 days of rain, had barely come up. Like fishing in the IMAX theater all day, a fantastic voyage of reds, greens, browns, oranges, and grays. I under dressed. In typical MC fashion, he had several extra garments to borrow.
I threw a Sammy 115 early, connecting with a 17.25" and 18"er early. We mostly had lots of slaps that missed entirely. Nothing else seemed consistent.
After those fish we duelled Sammies, but it was slow until about the middle of the wade where mini crankbaits caught some fish, then MC caught fire and caught like 8 or 9 in a row, including a 16" and 15". Fish were biting light again. This later gave way to the worst whiffing. We fishermen had many blow ups failing to even hit the lure. Frustrating. Problem was, nothing else covered ground and drew strikes. This culminated in a couple of lucky fish 15-16" bass to me. The smallmouth were hooked in the dorsal fin and cheek only. One particular 15"er was followed back to me by a 18"-19 fish. It peeled off after coming within 5' or so. Not long after, Mike's lure was attacked by the same fish from 12', peeling drag. Unfortunately, he was at a straight on to the bass' mouth, a poor hooking angle. The pig quickly came off. We were both downtrodden.
The weather changed 50 times during the day. Rainy, windy and cold, sunny and completely comfortable, then windy, then sunny, then cloudy, etc... Weirdest day fishing in a long time. UNTIL 5. Suddenly, connections were automatic! I pick a 16.25" fish. I lose one larger. Felt like a leaf on my line until it went airborne. We fished an incredible pool almost for naught. I had to drop deuce and moved up to do so in a gully. The back of a super pool funneled between cliff and sandbar. Mike catches a dink there casting long to willows, but fails to see a funnel close to him caused by the gully's clutter. Short toss, two big fish in there. They fight over my Sammy. Good shot, but the bass looked thicker than this in person. Terrific fish just short of 19". The second fish went back to feed position, but creeped out when we offered to it.
The stretch of 2.5 miles didn't seem to want to end. We had less than 2 hours to get to the takeout and me to ride close to 10 miles to the truck on the bike. Turned out the wade was more like 4.5-5!
Mike nails a fish, I measured at 18" or maybe a hair under. Yes! We had to get moving at this point. It was a real shame because every time I march casted there was another bass. MC basically marched. If we knew where the bridge was we could have fished longer. And there was that bike ride. I pulled away a little doing this.
Final score was a little wider than when we were both going at it.
35 mile an hour in the face winds, biking up mountains, 10 mile bike ride immediately following a power march to get off the stream, darkened country roads never before seen in person made the shuttle stuff of legend. An hour and fifteen minutes later, I pulled up in Mike's truck, to his relief. It was pitch black.
BT 32 SMB (18.75", 18", 17.25", 3-16.25", 3-15")
MC 21 SMB (18", 16", 3-4 15")
I threw a Sammy 115 early, connecting with a 17.25" and 18"er early. We mostly had lots of slaps that missed entirely. Nothing else seemed consistent.
After those fish we duelled Sammies, but it was slow until about the middle of the wade where mini crankbaits caught some fish, then MC caught fire and caught like 8 or 9 in a row, including a 16" and 15". Fish were biting light again. This later gave way to the worst whiffing. We fishermen had many blow ups failing to even hit the lure. Frustrating. Problem was, nothing else covered ground and drew strikes. This culminated in a couple of lucky fish 15-16" bass to me. The smallmouth were hooked in the dorsal fin and cheek only. One particular 15"er was followed back to me by a 18"-19 fish. It peeled off after coming within 5' or so. Not long after, Mike's lure was attacked by the same fish from 12', peeling drag. Unfortunately, he was at a straight on to the bass' mouth, a poor hooking angle. The pig quickly came off. We were both downtrodden.
The weather changed 50 times during the day. Rainy, windy and cold, sunny and completely comfortable, then windy, then sunny, then cloudy, etc... Weirdest day fishing in a long time. UNTIL 5. Suddenly, connections were automatic! I pick a 16.25" fish. I lose one larger. Felt like a leaf on my line until it went airborne. We fished an incredible pool almost for naught. I had to drop deuce and moved up to do so in a gully. The back of a super pool funneled between cliff and sandbar. Mike catches a dink there casting long to willows, but fails to see a funnel close to him caused by the gully's clutter. Short toss, two big fish in there. They fight over my Sammy. Good shot, but the bass looked thicker than this in person. Terrific fish just short of 19". The second fish went back to feed position, but creeped out when we offered to it.
The stretch of 2.5 miles didn't seem to want to end. We had less than 2 hours to get to the takeout and me to ride close to 10 miles to the truck on the bike. Turned out the wade was more like 4.5-5!
Mike nails a fish, I measured at 18" or maybe a hair under. Yes! We had to get moving at this point. It was a real shame because every time I march casted there was another bass. MC basically marched. If we knew where the bridge was we could have fished longer. And there was that bike ride. I pulled away a little doing this.
Final score was a little wider than when we were both going at it.
35 mile an hour in the face winds, biking up mountains, 10 mile bike ride immediately following a power march to get off the stream, darkened country roads never before seen in person made the shuttle stuff of legend. An hour and fifteen minutes later, I pulled up in Mike's truck, to his relief. It was pitch black.
BT 32 SMB (18.75", 18", 17.25", 3-16.25", 3-15")
MC 21 SMB (18", 16", 3-4 15")
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