12-01-2009, 02:15 AM
With Utah’s limited water resources, one might think that the angler has little to be thankful for, but Lake Powell is the great exception.
Thanksgiving day passed as always. A wondrous event with friends and family gathered together to give thanks for the blessings all of us have been given. The long holiday weekend provided the opportunity to return to the big lake for, what might be, the last fishing trip of the year.
With over a 120 miles of length to choose from, we elected to fish at the north end of the lake, launching from, the mostly dismantled, Hite Marina. We selected Hite not because the fishing was better there than anywhere else, but due to it being the closest jumping off point from home. At 5:00 am Friday we departed.
10 miles from Hanksville a tire on the trailer came apart. Not a cause for alarm, we changed the tire, stopped for a fast breakfast in town and headed south filled with anticipation.
Fifteen minutes later the truck and trailer shuddered as another tire came totally apart ripping the fender from the trailer. This was a serious setback. Both of the tires that had come apart were new with only a few hundred miles on them. We limped the boat back to Hanksville and purchased new tires. Once again we were underway, but had lost most of the day. Aside from the tires, the trailer and boat had suffered several hundred dollars worth of damage. The only positive thing was that we were going fishing and nothing was going to dampen our enthusiasms.
*
It was nearly 3:00 pm when we launched. Rather than going down the lake we decided to fish North wash directly west of the launch ramp. Not only would it allow us more time to fish, it had been extremely productive three weeks previously.
180 feet of 12 pound super braid line was let out allowing the deep diving lures to work down where they needed to be. Eyes scanned the sonar searching for the huge schools of bait fish that had filled the bay weeks earlier and the arches of big stripers that lurked underneath the smorgasbord above them.
The schools of shad were still present, but not in the sheer numbers before the water temperatures plummeted with the coming of winter to the desert. It was apparent immediately that the huge boils of shad and ravenous stripers were not going to happen in the colder water and we would have to work for the fish we caught.
Knowing that the stripers were finding all of the feed they wanted, we sped the trolling speed up to nearly 4 mph hoping for a reaction strike as the lures raced by.
Fifteen minutes into the afternoon’s fishing a violent strike bowed the port rod. A fat beautiful 5 pound fish came to the boat regurgitating shad as we placed it in the live well.
A harbinger of things to come, we hoped. For the next hour and a half we repeated the process. The line counters on the reel displayed 180 to 200 feet of line out placing the deep diving hard baits at least 25 feet down and the striped bass slashed at the lures as they passed. When we quit for the afternoon, a dozen big fish were in the live well. Life is good!
*
At breakfast in Hanksville the next morning we encountered several old friends who were planning their weekend. Several were targeting the slab sized black crappie while others were going to try their hand at spooning largemouth and stripers. All of us were confident and filled with enthusiasms.
An hour later at the launch area fishermen who recognized my boat from internet posts came to introduce themselves and report on their fishing experiences from the days earlier. Their tremendous success buoyed our already high spirits. We launched and turned the boat down lake away from the muddy waters of the Colorado and Dirty devil Rivers. The bountiful north bay would have to wait as we went in search of trophy sized crappie.
*
We fished two mile canyon with a little success and then moved on to four mile. The bay contained numerous boats and it appeared that everyone was catching the delicious pan fish. We stayed about an hour catching several dozen including several that were 14” and an honest 2 pounds on a certified scale. We realized that it might be possible to catch over a hundred fish, but why spend our time on the little fellers when there were 5 pound stripers to be had?
*
Striper City, Tracy, White and Farley canyons were all explored. One seemed as bountiful as the next. Occasionally we stopped in the back of the canyons to fish the stick ups for crappie and bass. I spent as much time marveling at the beauty that surrounded us as I did fishing. When the Creator made Utah he seemed to forsake portions of the landscape as barren desert, but the time He saved went into creating the visual masterpiece that is Glen Canyon. I cannot visit here without be taken back by the the canyons and the great lakes splendor. It can be overwhelming.
There are those that would take the giant dam at Page, AZ out, but what these selfish individuals can’t seem to realize is, that without the dam only a handful would see and enjoy this awe inspiring country while the huge impoundment and its splendor is enjoyed by millions of people. Let us hope that common sense prevails.
At the dawn Sunday we headed back home and as I finished packaging up the fillets I stopped and went to find a calendar. It looks like as the light of the big full moon washes over the desert lake and bids 2009 farewell, once again I will return to Hite.
Thanksgiving day passed as always. A wondrous event with friends and family gathered together to give thanks for the blessings all of us have been given. The long holiday weekend provided the opportunity to return to the big lake for, what might be, the last fishing trip of the year.
With over a 120 miles of length to choose from, we elected to fish at the north end of the lake, launching from, the mostly dismantled, Hite Marina. We selected Hite not because the fishing was better there than anywhere else, but due to it being the closest jumping off point from home. At 5:00 am Friday we departed.
10 miles from Hanksville a tire on the trailer came apart. Not a cause for alarm, we changed the tire, stopped for a fast breakfast in town and headed south filled with anticipation.
Fifteen minutes later the truck and trailer shuddered as another tire came totally apart ripping the fender from the trailer. This was a serious setback. Both of the tires that had come apart were new with only a few hundred miles on them. We limped the boat back to Hanksville and purchased new tires. Once again we were underway, but had lost most of the day. Aside from the tires, the trailer and boat had suffered several hundred dollars worth of damage. The only positive thing was that we were going fishing and nothing was going to dampen our enthusiasms.
*
It was nearly 3:00 pm when we launched. Rather than going down the lake we decided to fish North wash directly west of the launch ramp. Not only would it allow us more time to fish, it had been extremely productive three weeks previously.
180 feet of 12 pound super braid line was let out allowing the deep diving lures to work down where they needed to be. Eyes scanned the sonar searching for the huge schools of bait fish that had filled the bay weeks earlier and the arches of big stripers that lurked underneath the smorgasbord above them.
The schools of shad were still present, but not in the sheer numbers before the water temperatures plummeted with the coming of winter to the desert. It was apparent immediately that the huge boils of shad and ravenous stripers were not going to happen in the colder water and we would have to work for the fish we caught.
Knowing that the stripers were finding all of the feed they wanted, we sped the trolling speed up to nearly 4 mph hoping for a reaction strike as the lures raced by.
Fifteen minutes into the afternoon’s fishing a violent strike bowed the port rod. A fat beautiful 5 pound fish came to the boat regurgitating shad as we placed it in the live well.
A harbinger of things to come, we hoped. For the next hour and a half we repeated the process. The line counters on the reel displayed 180 to 200 feet of line out placing the deep diving hard baits at least 25 feet down and the striped bass slashed at the lures as they passed. When we quit for the afternoon, a dozen big fish were in the live well. Life is good!
*
At breakfast in Hanksville the next morning we encountered several old friends who were planning their weekend. Several were targeting the slab sized black crappie while others were going to try their hand at spooning largemouth and stripers. All of us were confident and filled with enthusiasms.
An hour later at the launch area fishermen who recognized my boat from internet posts came to introduce themselves and report on their fishing experiences from the days earlier. Their tremendous success buoyed our already high spirits. We launched and turned the boat down lake away from the muddy waters of the Colorado and Dirty devil Rivers. The bountiful north bay would have to wait as we went in search of trophy sized crappie.
*
We fished two mile canyon with a little success and then moved on to four mile. The bay contained numerous boats and it appeared that everyone was catching the delicious pan fish. We stayed about an hour catching several dozen including several that were 14” and an honest 2 pounds on a certified scale. We realized that it might be possible to catch over a hundred fish, but why spend our time on the little fellers when there were 5 pound stripers to be had?
*
Striper City, Tracy, White and Farley canyons were all explored. One seemed as bountiful as the next. Occasionally we stopped in the back of the canyons to fish the stick ups for crappie and bass. I spent as much time marveling at the beauty that surrounded us as I did fishing. When the Creator made Utah he seemed to forsake portions of the landscape as barren desert, but the time He saved went into creating the visual masterpiece that is Glen Canyon. I cannot visit here without be taken back by the the canyons and the great lakes splendor. It can be overwhelming.
There are those that would take the giant dam at Page, AZ out, but what these selfish individuals can’t seem to realize is, that without the dam only a handful would see and enjoy this awe inspiring country while the huge impoundment and its splendor is enjoyed by millions of people. Let us hope that common sense prevails.
At the dawn Sunday we headed back home and as I finished packaging up the fillets I stopped and went to find a calendar. It looks like as the light of the big full moon washes over the desert lake and bids 2009 farewell, once again I will return to Hite.