03-30-2013, 03:01 PM
With a couple of days of good weather and a half a day off, I decided to look around and wet some lines over by Lincoln Point. My boat is still not ready for spring so I loaded up my old tube. I got to Lincoln beach about 4:30 P.M. and there were 7 boat trailers in the parking lot. I saw one guy in a toon near the slough mouth,1 boat at the Island, and 2 small but tight clusters of floating fisherman off the orchards. I continued South in search of solitude and a spot I had picked up my first November kitties last year.
Without all the fancy stuff on my tube, I didn't get a water temp reading, but based on TubeDude's report from Lindon the day before, I would guess it was ecactly 43.5. Based on the cramping that soon started in my legs he was right, either the water was still TDC or I was TOOS.
I started out working tandem jigs in the shallow rocky areas and dragging a bait with the other rod. I got no encouragement from anybody. Next I moved out and worked the transition from rock to mud bottom with the same gear. I should not admit this in public, but I was dreaming of finding a toothy critter lying along the transition waiting for the next wind storm, or the full moon later that night.
After about 20 minutes I got a solid thump on the jig rod and it was game on! It was a heavy fish and with the exhilaration of the first battle, it took me about 20 seconds to settle down and analyze. Too heavy to be a white, too fast to be a cool cat and too erratic to be a walleye. It had to be a golden warrior[:/] Those guys with the nets must have missed one. After 2 or three runs I saw the golden scales and I could only remind myself that it was still fun to battle a 5 pound fish. When it came to the net I saw that the upper jig was square in the middle of its back. Surely it had hit the lower jig and then gotten tangled in the upper one during the grueling fisht for it's life! When I realized it was foul hooked, I looked around to make sure nobody was looking and then, just in case, I hollered "It was accidental, I swear it!" Fortunately I really was alone.
About 20 minutes later I had another hit and another hookup, but the fish came off when it reversed direction and showed me it's other side. My guess was I didn't set the hook hard enough to drive the point thought those huge golden scales. The next cast I lost my jigs, so I started working a floating crawler rig I had set up on the third rod.
Giving up on the shallows I turned west in search of deeper water. The cats I had found last fall were in about 8' so I thought I'd try. The wind was steady at about 10 MPH and I was headed right into it. When I got halfway to where I was going one calf started cramping. All I could think was, "That mature gentleman in the green tube is tougher than I am. HE does have an electric motor though." I headed south and west on 1. 5 fins, while I nursed the cramp in one leg. My thought was the wind would return me to shore if both fins gave out[]
I dragged both rigs for about 2 hours at depths ranging from 5 to about 9 feet and had only one hit. Something attached the crawler once but I had gotten too distracted but the beauty of the surroundings and the lack of feeling in my legs. I had both rods in the holders and missed it. The vibrational frequency of the rod tip before the line released combined with the lack of large lacerations on the crawler made me think white bass.
Just as the sun started to set I looked over and saw I was slightly upwind and way offshore of the car. I was down to only the starboard fin and was spending large amounts of time pulling on the tip of my left one to relieve the cramp in my port calf. I started to feel some pain in the starboard side and then it hit me. Sunset, approaching darkness, sometimes the wind changes after dark. If I lost my remaining 3/4 of a fin, they may find my lifeless body somewhere near Saratoga. Choosing the better part of valor, I headed for the car. I never wanted to be remembered simply as "bob!"
When I hit the shore, I pulled the tube up on the rocks to let it dry. It was not quite dark and I was alive, so I put a bobber on each rod, cast them out a short distance and started loading gear. Halfway through my first trip the car, the bait rod bobber started dancing. I raced over, reeled up slack and set the hook. Fish on! Again there was decent weight and a couple of slow flops told me it was a cold channel. 21" long and looking a little skinny after the long winter, it was still edible. By the time I remembered, it was too dark for a cell phone picture.
My first thought was "all that paddling and cramping and worrying and I probably would have caught more fish if I had stayed on the shore and enjoyed the sunset. I gave the tube an hour to dry and had only on more timid hit.
So, two March trips to Utah Lake, one cat each trip right at dusk and near shore. There must be a short feeding period in this cold water and the spring is still very young.
[signature]
Without all the fancy stuff on my tube, I didn't get a water temp reading, but based on TubeDude's report from Lindon the day before, I would guess it was ecactly 43.5. Based on the cramping that soon started in my legs he was right, either the water was still TDC or I was TOOS.
I started out working tandem jigs in the shallow rocky areas and dragging a bait with the other rod. I got no encouragement from anybody. Next I moved out and worked the transition from rock to mud bottom with the same gear. I should not admit this in public, but I was dreaming of finding a toothy critter lying along the transition waiting for the next wind storm, or the full moon later that night.
After about 20 minutes I got a solid thump on the jig rod and it was game on! It was a heavy fish and with the exhilaration of the first battle, it took me about 20 seconds to settle down and analyze. Too heavy to be a white, too fast to be a cool cat and too erratic to be a walleye. It had to be a golden warrior[:/] Those guys with the nets must have missed one. After 2 or three runs I saw the golden scales and I could only remind myself that it was still fun to battle a 5 pound fish. When it came to the net I saw that the upper jig was square in the middle of its back. Surely it had hit the lower jig and then gotten tangled in the upper one during the grueling fisht for it's life! When I realized it was foul hooked, I looked around to make sure nobody was looking and then, just in case, I hollered "It was accidental, I swear it!" Fortunately I really was alone.
About 20 minutes later I had another hit and another hookup, but the fish came off when it reversed direction and showed me it's other side. My guess was I didn't set the hook hard enough to drive the point thought those huge golden scales. The next cast I lost my jigs, so I started working a floating crawler rig I had set up on the third rod.
Giving up on the shallows I turned west in search of deeper water. The cats I had found last fall were in about 8' so I thought I'd try. The wind was steady at about 10 MPH and I was headed right into it. When I got halfway to where I was going one calf started cramping. All I could think was, "That mature gentleman in the green tube is tougher than I am. HE does have an electric motor though." I headed south and west on 1. 5 fins, while I nursed the cramp in one leg. My thought was the wind would return me to shore if both fins gave out[]
I dragged both rigs for about 2 hours at depths ranging from 5 to about 9 feet and had only one hit. Something attached the crawler once but I had gotten too distracted but the beauty of the surroundings and the lack of feeling in my legs. I had both rods in the holders and missed it. The vibrational frequency of the rod tip before the line released combined with the lack of large lacerations on the crawler made me think white bass.
Just as the sun started to set I looked over and saw I was slightly upwind and way offshore of the car. I was down to only the starboard fin and was spending large amounts of time pulling on the tip of my left one to relieve the cramp in my port calf. I started to feel some pain in the starboard side and then it hit me. Sunset, approaching darkness, sometimes the wind changes after dark. If I lost my remaining 3/4 of a fin, they may find my lifeless body somewhere near Saratoga. Choosing the better part of valor, I headed for the car. I never wanted to be remembered simply as "bob!"
When I hit the shore, I pulled the tube up on the rocks to let it dry. It was not quite dark and I was alive, so I put a bobber on each rod, cast them out a short distance and started loading gear. Halfway through my first trip the car, the bait rod bobber started dancing. I raced over, reeled up slack and set the hook. Fish on! Again there was decent weight and a couple of slow flops told me it was a cold channel. 21" long and looking a little skinny after the long winter, it was still edible. By the time I remembered, it was too dark for a cell phone picture.
My first thought was "all that paddling and cramping and worrying and I probably would have caught more fish if I had stayed on the shore and enjoyed the sunset. I gave the tube an hour to dry and had only on more timid hit.
So, two March trips to Utah Lake, one cat each trip right at dusk and near shore. There must be a short feeding period in this cold water and the spring is still very young.
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