I’m just about out of Words

That happens whenever I have to concentrate on finding work in a job market that chooses to ignore men over 50. Plenty of minimum wage offerings out there, up to $10 an hour. Usually part time. Doesn’t quite cut it.

But I am still going out and about, taking pictures, doing a little fishing. Might get out on a squirrel hunt or two soon.

Till I’m in the mood for it, the pictures will have to do.

This one has some words. Part of a fishing report I send off every week to Dale Bowman for his Chicago Sun Times reports. I have one more, after that they’ll mostly be pictures. I’ll do that till things turn around, they usually do, sooner or later.

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I had no choice but to get out on Sunday, it was far too beautiful, the wife was sleeping between work shifts and I had nothing else to do.

I was in a tremendous amount of pain from my leaf blowing, raking, burning endeavors the day before (I told you everything is related somehow), which caught me off guard. That shouldn’t have happened. I’m not in that bad of shape. The only way I’ve found to feel better whenever that happens is to keep moving. So I walked on shore and in the river for almost two miles. Some standing around looking at my surroundings. Some sitting just for the hell of it since I had no place else I wanted to be.

I decided to fish the north side of the river not so much because it was the sunny side and I thought the fish would be hanging out there, but because it was the sunny side and I wanted to be in the sun.

I didn’t care if the fish liked it or not.

For those that think October is the month to get in on a voracious river smallie bite as they begin to feed for the long winter ahead, think again. You missed it. You should have been out fishing in September. The same could be said for the white bass in the river. You missed that too. I’m working on the assumption that the walleye bite will be going strong soon, but I wouldn’t know. I don’t fish for them on purpose, but have caught them all the way into December, in years past, on accident.

Years past is how I’m basing what I said. I did a quick check of my past records and September was always the best month for smallies, white bass and a few other varieties of fish that don’t look like walleye.

The only two 100 fish days I’ve had on the Fox both came in September. This past September, just last month, may have been the best September I’ve had since I started fishing the Fox 15 years ago.

The smallies are still biting, you just have to work a little harder.

The white bass have disappeared.

This day, 18 smallies were caught and another 14 were missed. They were hitting hard when you could find them and the only place I was finding them was directly on current seams in 2 feet of water or slightly more. More or less water than that on the current seam and it was barren.

The only way to entice them to hit was to go back and forth across the seam, holding it still in the current got them to come up behind it and nail it. Moving it through the current, in other words, reeling, didn’t work. They were hitting hard though. Even the little guys got the drag humming a bit on impact.

One of the fish landed did look like it came close to the 20 inch mark.

Based on the fight of that one, a couple of the other fish I had on would have given it a run for its’ money. Heavy, drag humming, temporary fish on. I hate when that happens.

The long range temperatures show a long string of temps in the low to mid 50’s. A wise fisherman would start using minnows if they really wanted to catch fish. A wise fisherman wouldn’t give up just yet, either.

I finished this day standing in the middle of the river watching the light change. I like doing that. I only wish there were a tree that had got washed down river and lodged in the shallow water where I stood. Would be nice to have something to sit on to watch the light show.

I think the rest of these speak for themselves as to why I hang out in the middle of the river at sunset.