04-09-2007, 07:12 PM
I feel a bit wary posting these reports on such a popular board, as both places I fished this weekend don't appear as either could use any more pressure. Also, neither report is all that exciting, and I didn't snap any pics to boot.
Report No. 1:
Had a few hours to kill Friday evening, so I donned the waders and headed down to the Spanish Fork River inlet on Utah Lake. It was an unplanned, very quick trip, but it was great to enjoy a pleasant spring evening and get out and wade for the first time this year.
Normally I wouldn't hesitate posting a UL report, but the anglers were wedged in shoulder-to-shoulder from the mouth of the river out to about 150 yards into the lake. There must have been about 25 anglers in that relatively short stretch of water. I witnessed a couple of verbal sparrings between agitated anglers who felt their too-proximate neighbors were utilizing more than their fair share of real estate with their casts.
Not wanting to be a part of the fray, I made casts around the periphery of the inlet for several minutes, hooking into a couple enormous bugle-mouthed golden walleyes (whom I would have gladly performed complimentary gill-ectomies on before safely releasing them had I landed them) until I saw a spot open. Two Asian gentlemen cordially, smilingly welcomed me to a spot between them after I asked if I could squeeze in.
Before long I landed a couple of scrappy white bass, big enough to keep but certainly nothing to brag about. I got a few more bumps here and there for the next two hours or so, but I felt lucky to get that. I considered any fish who was gullible enough to accept my offerings of tiny chartreuse jigs a real treasure, after those same fish had run the gauntlet of countless other tossed jigs and baits up and down the river and its mouth.
I released all two of my landed fish, but that was not the case with other anglers. Every five minutes or so, one of the horde would land a nice whitie or two, and into a basket or onto a stringer it would go. I'm sure just within that couple of hours I was there, I witnessed 30 or 40 white bass being harvested. Given that this was just one evening within a very short stretch of time, it makes a guy wander how long unrestrained white bass harvests might continue before we all see the WB fishery go the way of the do-do. (Or maybe I have no idea whatsoever what it is I'm talking about.)
I also saw a couple of very nice walleye taken by my friendly Asian fishing neighbors, and again, into their baskets they went. (Must have been karma rewarding them for being so kind to me.) As the sun began to dip into the horizon, and as my waders have small leaks in them and my legs were quivering violently, I retreated to the shore -- walleye-less once again. But dang that was a nice evening of hand-to-hand combat muddy water fishing.
Report No. 2:
My wife took our kids to her parent's home for an Easter shindig on Saturday, and she said I could go fishin' if I wanted. I wanted. Parden me if I don't tell you the exact community pond I floated for most of the day in my small aluminum boat, but it was busy enough with anglers aplenty once I arrived around well before noon.
Targeting promising holes with a Texas-rigged Senko, I fooled a few respectable largemouth into striking and managed to haul a few pounds of them into my craft prior to turning them loose and watching them swim away. The best catch of the day was a big, belly-fat mamma, who appeared to be brimming with eggs. I gave her a wanton peck smack on her kisser before granting her an extra-gentle release.
Before leaving around 6 p.m. I thought I'd try for a kitty fish and therefore soaked some jumbles of worms on a big hook in a past-proven hole. Either last year's stock has been completely harvested, or the whisker fish were too busy locating some well-hidden, colorful eggs to play with me, because honey hole of days gone by produced absolutely no honey at all. The bobber just bobbed there for several minutes, taunting me.
As I'd already felt highly rewarded by big mamma largie's kiss, I considered the day well-spent and paddled to the shore once the evening was beginning. I was missing my own offspring terribly and had some Easter stuff to buy at Wally World before returning home, so I called the evening quits early.
It was another very nice time on the water. It's been months and months since I've fished twice in two days. If I can talk the kids into joining me, I intend to make it a habit.
[signature]
Report No. 1:
Had a few hours to kill Friday evening, so I donned the waders and headed down to the Spanish Fork River inlet on Utah Lake. It was an unplanned, very quick trip, but it was great to enjoy a pleasant spring evening and get out and wade for the first time this year.
Normally I wouldn't hesitate posting a UL report, but the anglers were wedged in shoulder-to-shoulder from the mouth of the river out to about 150 yards into the lake. There must have been about 25 anglers in that relatively short stretch of water. I witnessed a couple of verbal sparrings between agitated anglers who felt their too-proximate neighbors were utilizing more than their fair share of real estate with their casts.
Not wanting to be a part of the fray, I made casts around the periphery of the inlet for several minutes, hooking into a couple enormous bugle-mouthed golden walleyes (whom I would have gladly performed complimentary gill-ectomies on before safely releasing them had I landed them) until I saw a spot open. Two Asian gentlemen cordially, smilingly welcomed me to a spot between them after I asked if I could squeeze in.
Before long I landed a couple of scrappy white bass, big enough to keep but certainly nothing to brag about. I got a few more bumps here and there for the next two hours or so, but I felt lucky to get that. I considered any fish who was gullible enough to accept my offerings of tiny chartreuse jigs a real treasure, after those same fish had run the gauntlet of countless other tossed jigs and baits up and down the river and its mouth.
I released all two of my landed fish, but that was not the case with other anglers. Every five minutes or so, one of the horde would land a nice whitie or two, and into a basket or onto a stringer it would go. I'm sure just within that couple of hours I was there, I witnessed 30 or 40 white bass being harvested. Given that this was just one evening within a very short stretch of time, it makes a guy wander how long unrestrained white bass harvests might continue before we all see the WB fishery go the way of the do-do. (Or maybe I have no idea whatsoever what it is I'm talking about.)
I also saw a couple of very nice walleye taken by my friendly Asian fishing neighbors, and again, into their baskets they went. (Must have been karma rewarding them for being so kind to me.) As the sun began to dip into the horizon, and as my waders have small leaks in them and my legs were quivering violently, I retreated to the shore -- walleye-less once again. But dang that was a nice evening of hand-to-hand combat muddy water fishing.
Report No. 2:
My wife took our kids to her parent's home for an Easter shindig on Saturday, and she said I could go fishin' if I wanted. I wanted. Parden me if I don't tell you the exact community pond I floated for most of the day in my small aluminum boat, but it was busy enough with anglers aplenty once I arrived around well before noon.
Targeting promising holes with a Texas-rigged Senko, I fooled a few respectable largemouth into striking and managed to haul a few pounds of them into my craft prior to turning them loose and watching them swim away. The best catch of the day was a big, belly-fat mamma, who appeared to be brimming with eggs. I gave her a wanton peck smack on her kisser before granting her an extra-gentle release.
Before leaving around 6 p.m. I thought I'd try for a kitty fish and therefore soaked some jumbles of worms on a big hook in a past-proven hole. Either last year's stock has been completely harvested, or the whisker fish were too busy locating some well-hidden, colorful eggs to play with me, because honey hole of days gone by produced absolutely no honey at all. The bobber just bobbed there for several minutes, taunting me.
As I'd already felt highly rewarded by big mamma largie's kiss, I considered the day well-spent and paddled to the shore once the evening was beginning. I was missing my own offspring terribly and had some Easter stuff to buy at Wally World before returning home, so I called the evening quits early.
It was another very nice time on the water. It's been months and months since I've fished twice in two days. If I can talk the kids into joining me, I intend to make it a habit.
[signature]