09-18-2008, 03:14 PM
[font "Verdana"][#000000]Yesterday evening (Wednesday evening) I had a few hours free after work, so I packed the new float tube and other gear in the trunk and pointed the car in the direction of Jordanelle. As I snaked my way up Provo Canyon, enormous clouds, dark with the threat of rain and storminess, loomed in the sky in nearly every direction. Their proximity made me question my choice to fish on an evening forecasted to include such weather.
I needed to stop in Heber for gas, and when I got out of the car, I nearly had one of those Charlie Chaplain experiences where he holds onto something stationary while the wind lifts his body horizontally. A thick presence of dust and small objects blowing in the fierce wind pretty much made my mind up for me that I had made the thirty minute drive from Provo for nothing. After I filled up at the convenience store and climbed back into the car, I decided at the very least I would drive the ten more minutes or so to Rock Cliffs State Park and stand at the water’s edge. When I arrived at the boat ramp at about 4 p.m., small waves with white crests were breaking as far out on the water’s surface as I could see. Those whitecaps were not a welcome sight. Feeling dejected, I turned around and headed for home.
But then this little miracle happened. Several minutes later as I traveled the roadway back to Provo, I looked out from the perspective of the scenic overlook between Rock Cliffs and Heber and noticed that the lake had settled down considerably. I thought my eyes might be deceiving me, so I pulled over for a more detailed look. The closer I inspected the lake, the more tranquil it became. I spun around and in the few minutes it took me to make it back to the launch area, the lake was nearly completely calm. Remarkably, the water also was very clear, with no visible signs of mud and debris having been churned up by the gale force winds blowing just moments earlier.
I’m still a novice at the tubing thing, so it took me several minutes to get the new Outcast Fat Cat aired up with all my gear attached. This was actually my second voyage, but the first was so quick and fruitless in the fish-catching department, I’m not counting it.
I really like fishing Jordanelle, and as I began to kick across the bay to the shoreline opposite the boat launch, I hoped that my first-ever fish brought to the new tube might be an impressive ‘Nelle smallmouth. It’s been at least two years since I’ve fished Lake X, and I was pumped. I began casting a heavy crocodile perch-pattern spoon as I kicked across deep water hoping something might hit. No takers.
Once I reached the opposite shore, I began intermittently to cast a wacky rigged senko on one rod and a perch pattern Rapala shad rap on the other. Within the first few casts with the senko, I had an impressive strike—that I missed—which falsely led me to believe I might be successful with the soft baits as the evening progressed. I was wrong. That solitary strike proved to be the only action the senkos—in varied colors, because I kept switching them—would see.
Thankfully, I don’t have to repeat the same gloomy conclusion regarding the Rapalas. Not long after the senko strike, I hooked up with a very spirited fish on the perch shad rap. After a brief sub-surface tussle, the fish turned into an aerial acrobat, and after five very impressive jumps completely out of the water and more drag-screeching dives in between, I netted a beautiful, fully finned and colorful 17-plus inch rainbow. His jumps and spunk were so impressive, I welcomed him happily as the first-ever fish to my humble tube. As he waited on the Outcast’s new “rigid” stripping apron for his profile to be captured, I asked him if he would like to accompany me home as the guest of honor for dinner. I took his silence as an answer in the affirmative, and slipped him into my basket.
[inline NelleFirstBow.JPG]
(A quick note here about Outcast’s so-called new “rigid” apron. If that thing’s supposed to be rigid, I’d hate to see what Outcast’s definition of floppy would be. The thing laid across my lap like a sea slug the entire evening I fished, with no form or structure to speak of. I’ve seen boiled pasta noodles with more backbone. It does serve its purpose somewhat, I suppose, but I laugh at the fact that Outcast calls it rigid. I’ll probably not replace it, though I surely did miss the very sturdy homemade concoctions that TubeDude makes for all his tubes.)
After the quick bump on the wacky senko and the taker on the shad rap, I had high hopes for an evening of fast fishing, but those two moments of early action would be the precursor to several hours of nothingness. I tried different colors of senkos and Rapalas, but nothing produced even a nibble. (If Cliff, Doggonefishin, or The Dude himself could offer some advice on what I may have been doing wrong with my presentation of the senko, I would appreciate either a PM or some replies to this post. I would cast the wacky senko in close to all types of shoreline structure, bottom bounce it back to me, and it only produced one strike the entire evening. Once the senko reached deeper water, I doubt it touched bottom very often. Maybe I wasn’t letting it sink enough? A little help here? Maybe I should have tried dropshotting to get some soft plastics down deeper? I’m all ears here.)
Anyway, despite the fact that certain fish didn’t want to recreate with yours truly for some time, I had a very pleasant time watching the evening progress to dusk and eventually to sundown. The wind never reared its ugly head again, which made the few hours I was on the lake very peaceful. I kicked my way over a lot of territory, and I snapped a few cell phone pics due to the fact that I wasn’t entertaining any fish at my tube.
[inline NelleShoreline.JPG]
[inline ShadRapatSundown.JPG]
The action certainly did pick up once the sun went down, however. As I patrolled a vast stretch of shoreline while positioning myself to kick back across the bay to my car, I began to pick up some small smallies on a blue and silver shad rap. I couldn’t get any big guys or gals to play, but a few juvenile bronze backs did manage to bring the evening to a fun close. All of the little tykes I caught tonight are still alive and kicking in Lake X, but with the added knowledge that hard-plastic baits aren’t very satisfying to eat. I was able to snap one very cool pick at sundown of one smallie that was about 2 ½ times as big as the Rapala he attacked.
[inline LakeXSmallieatSunset.JPG]
After the smallest of smallie action and once I had positioned myself to begin a direct shot across the bay back to the car, it was dark. The night air and sky were completely peaceful as I leaned back in my seat and looked up at the clear night sky, bright with beaming stars, unfettered by a single light from civilization. As best as I could figure I was the only one on the water within eyeshot. I haven’t felt that calm and peaceful in quite some time. I guess that’s what fishing in sublime outdoor settings can do for a person. When various scenes and situations blend themselves together under just the right recipe, a supremely tranquil and remarkable moment can be the result. I was grateful to have experienced it. Hope you enjoy my retelling of it, and I hope a few of you chime in so next time I might catch more smallmouth!
Note: Once again, I apologize for the poor picture quality. I'll start bringing my camera on these trips and not rely on the cell phone cam.[/#000000][/font]
I needed to stop in Heber for gas, and when I got out of the car, I nearly had one of those Charlie Chaplain experiences where he holds onto something stationary while the wind lifts his body horizontally. A thick presence of dust and small objects blowing in the fierce wind pretty much made my mind up for me that I had made the thirty minute drive from Provo for nothing. After I filled up at the convenience store and climbed back into the car, I decided at the very least I would drive the ten more minutes or so to Rock Cliffs State Park and stand at the water’s edge. When I arrived at the boat ramp at about 4 p.m., small waves with white crests were breaking as far out on the water’s surface as I could see. Those whitecaps were not a welcome sight. Feeling dejected, I turned around and headed for home.
But then this little miracle happened. Several minutes later as I traveled the roadway back to Provo, I looked out from the perspective of the scenic overlook between Rock Cliffs and Heber and noticed that the lake had settled down considerably. I thought my eyes might be deceiving me, so I pulled over for a more detailed look. The closer I inspected the lake, the more tranquil it became. I spun around and in the few minutes it took me to make it back to the launch area, the lake was nearly completely calm. Remarkably, the water also was very clear, with no visible signs of mud and debris having been churned up by the gale force winds blowing just moments earlier.
I’m still a novice at the tubing thing, so it took me several minutes to get the new Outcast Fat Cat aired up with all my gear attached. This was actually my second voyage, but the first was so quick and fruitless in the fish-catching department, I’m not counting it.
I really like fishing Jordanelle, and as I began to kick across the bay to the shoreline opposite the boat launch, I hoped that my first-ever fish brought to the new tube might be an impressive ‘Nelle smallmouth. It’s been at least two years since I’ve fished Lake X, and I was pumped. I began casting a heavy crocodile perch-pattern spoon as I kicked across deep water hoping something might hit. No takers.
Once I reached the opposite shore, I began intermittently to cast a wacky rigged senko on one rod and a perch pattern Rapala shad rap on the other. Within the first few casts with the senko, I had an impressive strike—that I missed—which falsely led me to believe I might be successful with the soft baits as the evening progressed. I was wrong. That solitary strike proved to be the only action the senkos—in varied colors, because I kept switching them—would see.
Thankfully, I don’t have to repeat the same gloomy conclusion regarding the Rapalas. Not long after the senko strike, I hooked up with a very spirited fish on the perch shad rap. After a brief sub-surface tussle, the fish turned into an aerial acrobat, and after five very impressive jumps completely out of the water and more drag-screeching dives in between, I netted a beautiful, fully finned and colorful 17-plus inch rainbow. His jumps and spunk were so impressive, I welcomed him happily as the first-ever fish to my humble tube. As he waited on the Outcast’s new “rigid” stripping apron for his profile to be captured, I asked him if he would like to accompany me home as the guest of honor for dinner. I took his silence as an answer in the affirmative, and slipped him into my basket.
[inline NelleFirstBow.JPG]
(A quick note here about Outcast’s so-called new “rigid” apron. If that thing’s supposed to be rigid, I’d hate to see what Outcast’s definition of floppy would be. The thing laid across my lap like a sea slug the entire evening I fished, with no form or structure to speak of. I’ve seen boiled pasta noodles with more backbone. It does serve its purpose somewhat, I suppose, but I laugh at the fact that Outcast calls it rigid. I’ll probably not replace it, though I surely did miss the very sturdy homemade concoctions that TubeDude makes for all his tubes.)
After the quick bump on the wacky senko and the taker on the shad rap, I had high hopes for an evening of fast fishing, but those two moments of early action would be the precursor to several hours of nothingness. I tried different colors of senkos and Rapalas, but nothing produced even a nibble. (If Cliff, Doggonefishin, or The Dude himself could offer some advice on what I may have been doing wrong with my presentation of the senko, I would appreciate either a PM or some replies to this post. I would cast the wacky senko in close to all types of shoreline structure, bottom bounce it back to me, and it only produced one strike the entire evening. Once the senko reached deeper water, I doubt it touched bottom very often. Maybe I wasn’t letting it sink enough? A little help here? Maybe I should have tried dropshotting to get some soft plastics down deeper? I’m all ears here.)
Anyway, despite the fact that certain fish didn’t want to recreate with yours truly for some time, I had a very pleasant time watching the evening progress to dusk and eventually to sundown. The wind never reared its ugly head again, which made the few hours I was on the lake very peaceful. I kicked my way over a lot of territory, and I snapped a few cell phone pics due to the fact that I wasn’t entertaining any fish at my tube.
[inline NelleShoreline.JPG]
[inline ShadRapatSundown.JPG]
The action certainly did pick up once the sun went down, however. As I patrolled a vast stretch of shoreline while positioning myself to kick back across the bay to my car, I began to pick up some small smallies on a blue and silver shad rap. I couldn’t get any big guys or gals to play, but a few juvenile bronze backs did manage to bring the evening to a fun close. All of the little tykes I caught tonight are still alive and kicking in Lake X, but with the added knowledge that hard-plastic baits aren’t very satisfying to eat. I was able to snap one very cool pick at sundown of one smallie that was about 2 ½ times as big as the Rapala he attacked.
[inline LakeXSmallieatSunset.JPG]
After the smallest of smallie action and once I had positioned myself to begin a direct shot across the bay back to the car, it was dark. The night air and sky were completely peaceful as I leaned back in my seat and looked up at the clear night sky, bright with beaming stars, unfettered by a single light from civilization. As best as I could figure I was the only one on the water within eyeshot. I haven’t felt that calm and peaceful in quite some time. I guess that’s what fishing in sublime outdoor settings can do for a person. When various scenes and situations blend themselves together under just the right recipe, a supremely tranquil and remarkable moment can be the result. I was grateful to have experienced it. Hope you enjoy my retelling of it, and I hope a few of you chime in so next time I might catch more smallmouth!
Note: Once again, I apologize for the poor picture quality. I'll start bringing my camera on these trips and not rely on the cell phone cam.[/#000000][/font]
]). The white you were using I would think would be effective. This has always been money for me all year, including last weekend.