06-17-2005, 03:06 PM
I completed a truckload of work earlier this week, so I decided to take Thursday off. I hadn't been to Pelican Lake yet this year, so a friend and I decided that should be the place.
We met up in Orem at 3:45 a.m. yesterday and groggily made the three-hour drive to the Basin. Upon our arrival a little after 6:30, I was surprised to see how full the lake is. The last time I was there was in late October of last year, and the lake has risen at least six to eight feet since then.
In my 14-foot aluminum boat, we motored across the lake to a favored spot and found few willing takers on top-water frogs, Yamamoto Senkos and Kreatures, tubes, or crankbaits. It probably took over an hour before I landed two largies, but both were decent fish (for Pelican anyway) at 14 and 15 inches.
It didn't take long before we switched to "searching" mode. We motored around looking at various locations for schools of fish, and eventually we found some. Occasionally, by using this sight-fishing method, we'd hook into a largie or two that were usually quite small, so for a few hours it seemed like all we did was motor around, C & R one or two small largemouth, and move on.
Around 2 p.m. we located a bunch of bluegill hanging out in some thick reeds and switched to fishing with worms under a bobber. For about two hours the fishing was fast and furious, with my friend and I probably landing about twenty-five 'gills between the two of us. We released about half of them, since only about ten of them were of the true Pelican dinner-plate size variety.
At around 4 p.m. we decided to call it a day. For the most part, it was a very pleasant morning and afternoon. We saw a pronghorn antelope walk past us on the shore while we were fishing one particular bay, and, as usual, the bird watching was incredible. Pelicans, diving ducks, flying and nesting waterfowl, and courting yellow-headed blackbirds, etc. either flew, nested, swam, or made passes at each other in close proximity to the boat throughout the entire day.
A few negatives on the day: While sight-fishing for fish and targeting the 'gills in the thick reeds, the bugs were nearly intolerable. At times the reeds were too thick to motor through, so we paddled through them with oars, and seriously I about dove in the water a few times (swimmer's itch and all) to get all of the pesky gnats and mosquitoes off of me.
At one point I had an extremely thick cloud swarming my head and landing in my hair, ears, nose, and mouth and covering my entire upper body. Looking at my friend during one of our worst bouts paddling through the reeds, it looked like he was wearing a bug sweater. I went so far as to stick my head inside my t-shirt up to my eyes during the same paddling session just so I could breathe.
We learned that if we stayed out of the middle of the reeds, thereby not agitating the bugs, and fished the perimeter of various reed beds that the bugs were still very pesky but tolerable. Hey, on the positive side, next time I venture to Pelican, I'm not going to take a lunch, because I swallowed enough protein of the buzzing variety yesterday to keep me from reaching for food. [
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One more thing, the largemouth fishing yesterday was the worst that I've experienced at Pelican. The fish were smaller this year and the fishing was very slow it seemed, and nearly everyone I spoke with yesterday wasn't having any luck for the largies.
So much of the lake's shoreline vegetation is so deeply flooded that I wonder if they're not greatly dispersed and in nearly inaccessible areas, unless one's in the mood for full-on bug warfare to get to them.
All in all, however, I feel blessed to have gone to the Basin. I'm glad it's such a long drive out there, because if more people were to venture to this little gem, I believe it would be ruined. I'm glad there are so many bugs; I'm glad the fish have little yellow parasites in their flesh that keep people (me excluded) from eating them; I'm glad the lake is infested with a parasite that brings about swimmer's itch; and I'm glad it's over a 300-mile round trip to get there from the Wasatch Front.
Long live Pelican Lake! Thus endeth mine epistle.
[signature]
We met up in Orem at 3:45 a.m. yesterday and groggily made the three-hour drive to the Basin. Upon our arrival a little after 6:30, I was surprised to see how full the lake is. The last time I was there was in late October of last year, and the lake has risen at least six to eight feet since then.
In my 14-foot aluminum boat, we motored across the lake to a favored spot and found few willing takers on top-water frogs, Yamamoto Senkos and Kreatures, tubes, or crankbaits. It probably took over an hour before I landed two largies, but both were decent fish (for Pelican anyway) at 14 and 15 inches.
It didn't take long before we switched to "searching" mode. We motored around looking at various locations for schools of fish, and eventually we found some. Occasionally, by using this sight-fishing method, we'd hook into a largie or two that were usually quite small, so for a few hours it seemed like all we did was motor around, C & R one or two small largemouth, and move on.
Around 2 p.m. we located a bunch of bluegill hanging out in some thick reeds and switched to fishing with worms under a bobber. For about two hours the fishing was fast and furious, with my friend and I probably landing about twenty-five 'gills between the two of us. We released about half of them, since only about ten of them were of the true Pelican dinner-plate size variety.
At around 4 p.m. we decided to call it a day. For the most part, it was a very pleasant morning and afternoon. We saw a pronghorn antelope walk past us on the shore while we were fishing one particular bay, and, as usual, the bird watching was incredible. Pelicans, diving ducks, flying and nesting waterfowl, and courting yellow-headed blackbirds, etc. either flew, nested, swam, or made passes at each other in close proximity to the boat throughout the entire day.
A few negatives on the day: While sight-fishing for fish and targeting the 'gills in the thick reeds, the bugs were nearly intolerable. At times the reeds were too thick to motor through, so we paddled through them with oars, and seriously I about dove in the water a few times (swimmer's itch and all) to get all of the pesky gnats and mosquitoes off of me.
At one point I had an extremely thick cloud swarming my head and landing in my hair, ears, nose, and mouth and covering my entire upper body. Looking at my friend during one of our worst bouts paddling through the reeds, it looked like he was wearing a bug sweater. I went so far as to stick my head inside my t-shirt up to my eyes during the same paddling session just so I could breathe.
We learned that if we stayed out of the middle of the reeds, thereby not agitating the bugs, and fished the perimeter of various reed beds that the bugs were still very pesky but tolerable. Hey, on the positive side, next time I venture to Pelican, I'm not going to take a lunch, because I swallowed enough protein of the buzzing variety yesterday to keep me from reaching for food. [
![Tongue Tongue](https://bigfishtackle.com/forum/images/smilies/tongue.png)
One more thing, the largemouth fishing yesterday was the worst that I've experienced at Pelican. The fish were smaller this year and the fishing was very slow it seemed, and nearly everyone I spoke with yesterday wasn't having any luck for the largies.
So much of the lake's shoreline vegetation is so deeply flooded that I wonder if they're not greatly dispersed and in nearly inaccessible areas, unless one's in the mood for full-on bug warfare to get to them.
All in all, however, I feel blessed to have gone to the Basin. I'm glad it's such a long drive out there, because if more people were to venture to this little gem, I believe it would be ruined. I'm glad there are so many bugs; I'm glad the fish have little yellow parasites in their flesh that keep people (me excluded) from eating them; I'm glad the lake is infested with a parasite that brings about swimmer's itch; and I'm glad it's over a 300-mile round trip to get there from the Wasatch Front.
Long live Pelican Lake! Thus endeth mine epistle.
[signature]