The surest way to drive me insane is to remove all color from my life. By the end of winter it’s not the cold or the snow or the short days that get to me. I need color. Two or three more weeks and the forest floor in the area I fished will be covered with a blanket of wild flowers for as far as you can see.
I can’t wait.
For now, the gray/brown still dominates, but that will be short lived.
When I got out to the creek I almost put on my coat. Would have been a dumb move. In no time I was sweating bullets in just my sweatshirt. I couldn’t help but feel under dressed. This was the first day without a coat.
I started out with 3 to 4 inch lures. I kept getting hits and missing the hook set. So I started counting them. Wound up missing 7 fish on short hits. So I switched to a jig with a small hook. Threaded on a tiny pearl twister barely 2 inches long. It got inhaled on the first cast. I guess if you’re only going to catch one smallie, it may as well be the fattest one seen in a long time and around the 17 inch mark.
You’ve probably noticed that horses are measured in hands. It’s based on the average hand being 4 inches wide. If you ever wonder how big a fish is in a picture, just look at the hands.
Everyone should recognize my left hand by now.
This is the spot that’s nine miles up from the mouth where it flows into the Fox River. There is no reason in the world for this fish to be this far up the creek already. Next winter on a warmer January day I’m going to come fish this spot. I have a feeling this fish will be there.
Also wound up catching a shiner, which was promptly thrown back into the hole while still hooked just to see what would happen. It got off the hook before I could find out.
One tiny largemouth bass from another creek I hit on the way home. I get a big kick out of creek hopping. Park on the side of the road, go fish a spot for a half hour, move on to the next creek.
I think most of my time was spent wandering through the woods. I might have been able to catch a few more fish if I could concentrate. But the smells of the spring woods had me tracking. I would follow a smell till I found the rotting wood or the patch of rich black dirt that was the cause.
What I have not smelled yet is spawning fish. It’s a kind of sweet musty smell that comes off the water. I can find bluegill beds that you can’t see through the water just by locating the smell. I have a feeling as I get older and my eye sight gets worse, this might come in hand. As long as my sense of smell doesn’t go away with my sight.
A few more weeks and everything will be turned on. Come May, carp should be feeding on the surface in slack water areas. I’ve been talking of sight fishing for carp with a fly rod. I already do it with spinning gear. I think it’s time to give this a try.
I have plenty of caddis looking things, but I think I can tie a lint ball from my pocket onto a hook and they’ll eat it.
Might be worth a try.
bob long jr
3 Apr 2011damn near had a heart attack or stroke to this one.
When i was a child, the first whiff of spring used to come in through my bedroom window. It was only cracked a little bit, but spring would annouce itself on southerly breezes blowing in through the crack.
Melting water, earth, wood, dethawing dog poop, rotting leaves. It was heavenly. I’d put my nose to the crack and INHALE. I would get dizzy with visions of green grass, flowers, trees in bloom. Even by age 8, I’d learned that short, rapid inhales and exhales allow one to smell scents far better than a long, single draw.
I’d like to say I discovered that on my own, or from watching Mr. Wizard, but truth is I learn it from my Dog, Prince.
I’d sit at the window and have visions of biking, playing ball, tops, running around, sweating. Then I’d run outside looking for anything green, or a bug, or something coming to life. Usually, I found dog poop coming to life, but sometimes, I’d find crocuses peaking up through soil or patches of left over snow facing the sun side.
Right now I am a nervous wreck with this posting of yours. I want spring, spring, spring. But, I try very hard not to rush a day, an hour, a minute. At this age, I wish patience with time, as for me and the Rolling Stones, time ain’t no longer on our side.
I remember what the old folks used to say to us when we were young’uns: “Ain’t no point in rushin’, boy. You only rushin’ to your grave. You’ll git there soon enuff.”
But…….(whispered), “c’mon spring.”
Ken G
3 Apr 2011I do the same thing, sniff like a dog. This time of year is a rush with the colors and the smells.
It’s odd how rotting things, come spring thaw, can actually smell good.
From rot comes life. I see growth from rotting stumps all the time.
John Delaney
3 Apr 2011Nice idea for a post and good eye. Enjoyed it. I was noticing the tree’s budding yesterday, today snow. Transition time.
Ken G
3 Apr 2011We just missed all the rain called for. Turned out to be a beautiful day. One benefit, the heat hasn’t kicked on all day.
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