03-10-2005, 02:58 PM
[black]Inspired by Fuzzyfisher's reports, I got off work a little early yesterday (Wednesday), went to Provo's Sportsman's Warehouse, purchased some frozen chubs, and pointed the truck in Provo Boat Harbor's direction.
When I reached the north dike, it was crawling with fishermen. I found a small gap in the line of anglers and squeezed in. I rigged my setup the same as Fuzzy's, so that the chub would rest on the bottom.
As soon as the bait was in the water, I began asking anglers how the fishing was. One guy who had been there for nearly an hour said that he'd seen two small 'eyes caught.
Paying close attention to the long line of anglers, I continued for the next nearly two hours (until about 7 p.m.) to watch not a single angler catch a single fish, except for one teenager who landed the most anemic, anorexic looking 8-inch mud cat I've ever seen.
Fishless and feeling a chill after the sun descended below the mountains, I called for my two sons, and we headed for home.
I guess that's why it's called "fishing" and not "catching!" Dang, finicky 'eyes! It seems like the trick yesterday was to get there before 4 p.m., because the bite seemed to shut off after that.
Aside from striking out with the fishes--it was a beautiful, sunny, windless, early-spring evening on the big, murky pond.
If you go, I wish you better luck!
PF[/black]
When I reached the north dike, it was crawling with fishermen. I found a small gap in the line of anglers and squeezed in. I rigged my setup the same as Fuzzy's, so that the chub would rest on the bottom.
As soon as the bait was in the water, I began asking anglers how the fishing was. One guy who had been there for nearly an hour said that he'd seen two small 'eyes caught.
Paying close attention to the long line of anglers, I continued for the next nearly two hours (until about 7 p.m.) to watch not a single angler catch a single fish, except for one teenager who landed the most anemic, anorexic looking 8-inch mud cat I've ever seen.
Fishless and feeling a chill after the sun descended below the mountains, I called for my two sons, and we headed for home.
I guess that's why it's called "fishing" and not "catching!" Dang, finicky 'eyes! It seems like the trick yesterday was to get there before 4 p.m., because the bite seemed to shut off after that.
Aside from striking out with the fishes--it was a beautiful, sunny, windless, early-spring evening on the big, murky pond.
If you go, I wish you better luck!
PF[/black]