Catfishin' After Dark

Jon and I arrived at the river around 18:30 for some overnight catfishing. The weather had been another in a long stretch of hot late August days were the temp had reached above 90 degrees. Carp were surface feeding along the far shore and people were clearing out. Most likely they had been there a good portion of the day. We unloaded all out gear and set up for the night. Our lines had not been in the water more than twenty minutes and my buddies line started moving up stream rather quickly. His fear was one of those big Carp had grabbed the line and was headed towards the damn. When he set the hook he got his answer rather quickly. The fish went straight to the bottom. Jon fought with him for a few minutes and when he broke the surface with a swirl we knew it was a catfish. He pulled it in measured and weighted it then put it back to grow a little more. We have a standing rule when we fish. No fish is to be kept under three pounds or over forty. Neither of us have had to worry about that forty pound class as of yet. Most of what we catch is between the six and twenty pound range. The fishing went extremely quiet for almost two hours. When the full moon finally revealed itself as an orange ball climbing into the sky we started getting a few nibbles but still not real bites. We kept moving the bait up and down the shoreline. We also varied the length of our casts from way out to only a few feet from shore. I was getting a little impatient and started pulling my line in. I move it about two feet and wham! Something grabbed the bait and started up stream like it had stolen a prize bait from all the others. I lifted the rod tip as high as I could and held it there until it formed a rainbow. At that point I dropped the tip slightly and jerked back setting the hook. After about thirty minutes the reason for our lack of bites was landed. I had landed a forty-five in Northern Pike. We moved up stream just a little and found a huge cut in the bank and several large rocks forming a small rapids. Jon fished the up side of the rocks and I went after the cut in the bank. We fished for two hours before packing up and going home. The smallest catfish of the eight we kept was a mere six and a half pounds. The largest was twelve pounds seven ounces. Once we got home we cleaned all the fish and prepped them for the next nights feast. Deep fried catfish with baked potato and some juice to wash it down. We rolled the catfish in a Shake-n-Bake for chicken then deep fried it for a few minutes.  Just one of the simple pleasures mmmmmmmmmmmm.

Bested by a Trophy Pike

I am reminded of the time Mike and myself went out fishing for anything that would bite. We had gone all the way around this small lake with plenty of fish caught. It was early in the evening in late August and the fish had all at once quit biting. We started casting up tight against the lily pads and reeling back slowly using black and white spoons. We sent cast after cast into the pads and back again with nothing to show. We had already put a couple good sized Pike on the stringer and were looking to end the day on a high note. I felt a slight tug as if I had snagged the weeds again. There were lots of them on this day. I pulled and reeled back towards the snag up. Pulled again and reeled, over and over again. We say this huge mass of weeds come floating to the surface alongside the boat. I saw a set of eyes poke out from under the weeds then the long body of a huge Northern Pike slowly swimming along then we notice that the large fish had another cross ways in his mouth . I quickly released the reel bail and watched as the line went out and down then stopped. I was hoping the larger would grab the small one from the front and I could get a hook into him. No such luck. I waited for nearly twenty minutes before bringing the smaller fish in. We noticed the cut marks on the sides of the smaller fish which was about two and a half pounds. We took a small fishermen's tape measure and measured the distance between the cut marks. Thats when we truly knew a monster pike had gotten the best of me. It was nine and half inches between those tooth marks. We estimated the fish to be in the twenty to twenty-five pound bracket. We fished that entire end of the lake with different methods and baits for nearly three hours. He had gotten the best of me and was not interested in trying his luck again. This all happened on a lake in Minnesota.

Ice Fishing

The other day my son Jon got a first hand lesson on why we wait for the ice on the rivers and lakes to get a foot thick. He was walking along the edge of a river with moving water and fell in up to his knees. He was about a mile from home so when he got home he was a little on the cold side. We dumped water out of his boots and stood his frozen pants in the shower with him to thaw them out. I think next time he will wait. He has not been to the river since he fell through. Until next time, keep fishin' and practice catch and release. Ps ... don't forget to put a few of the larger ones back to keep the average size up.