Dedication or Stupidity

Dedication and stupidity two words that are synonymous amongst fisherman and depending on who you talk to and to what context you will get either one of those words as a response.

This past Saturday I put the statement to the test. For I and the ragtag group of fisherman I call friends call the events that transpired dedication, most of you probably reading this will think otherwise but I’ll let you be the judge. It started for me anyway as a harmless text message the Friday before from good friend Kyle Hammond. “I think we’re planning on fishing for trout and walleye in the morning if you would care to join us.” Simple, nice, short invite, now before you go oh that’s a simple answer Kyle lives in Ft. Wayne, a good 2 hour drive for this central native. But, be dedicated I accepted and we ironed out the details, I loaded the truck and hooked up the kayak trailer and I was ready for the sound of the alarm. My alarm went off way too soon, 4:30 came quick, got dress in my layers ready to battle the elements of the day hoped in the truck and I was off. As I rode along IN-69 jamming to the free 3 weeks of Sirus radio I got to thinking, am I dedicated or stupid? I’m driving 2 hours north to meet up with Kyle and Mike to drive even farther to get to a lake I have never fished, let alone heard of, in rather less than favorable conditions. NAH! I’m just a dedicated kayak angler. The miles droned on and soon my journey came to its end, meet up with Mike at Kyle’s house we hashed out the plan, well they hashed out the plan, I was just along for the ride at this point. We loaded up and another 1.5 hour trek towards the Michigan boarder to our lake of choice, Clear Lake. The plan was simple troll for walleye and trout. So we unloaded our kayaks, as I set mine on the ramp it got the bright idea to launch itself. Kyle and I literally watched my kayak slide down the icy ramp into the water and float out of reach. It was quite funny to see my boat just drifting 20 yards off shore with no pilot. No fear though Mike “Toboggan Run” Densel was on the job as he hopped into his Hobie and rode it all the way down the ramp into the water much like the Log Flume rides at amusement parks. By far one of the most epic things I have seen while kayak fishing. Kudos Mike, much kudos. Having my kayak retrieved we set out across the lake with cranks and flies in tow hoping for the tall tell rod been of fish on. Time passed with not even a nibble, Kyle said he had just got word of a hot trout bite on another lake. Mike and I agreed this lake was a bust so let’s move. We trolled back to the ramp loaded up and were off to lake #2. We arrived at lake #2 where Kyle’s intel man was waiting, we unloaded and were off again. After a short paddle under a low bridge we were on the main lake. This lake had way more chop than the last, I still feel like I’m bobbing up and down.  I dropped my 2 crankbaits into the water, paddled a short distance and BOOM! Rod bent, fish on. After a short, acrobatic fight I had landed a beautiful trout. This was my first trout ever out of the kayak which was nice, because one more fish off the list. I trolled awhile longer with no other fish to show. I left my comrades on the water as I had to head home and my drive wasn’t a short one. I pulled into my driveway a couple hours later pondering that age old question, was I stupid or dedicated just to catch 1 fish? You decided. Until next time, tight lines.

Enjoy this short video of the one fish I caught.

http://youtu.be/uru6p_utgEw 

A cold day is better than no day.

I get told a lot by my family and non-angling friends that I'm crazy for fishing as much as I do and even more so when I do it when its close to 40° or colder. Which I get, I am crazy for fishing in a kayak in cold weather, even more so when it's in a SOT and only inches out of the water. But, I endure the frigid winds and water for that next bite no matter how hard it might be to achieve.

My alarm sounded which followed by a look at my weather app, today's high a sweltering 48° with a low in low 30's. Yep going to be one of those why am I getting out of my toasty bed kinda days. Well I roll out of bed throw on my thermal base layers, wool socks, jeans, hoodie and my heavy coat, out the door I go. As I'm loading up for the days journey I'm scrapping frost of not only my car windows but my kayak, all the while thinking why did I get out of bed? I arrive at the launch point, fashionably late due to a rather low rear tire, Tom had been patiently waiting for my arrival. We quickly ready the kayaks and where in the water. We had only traveled a short distance from the launch and made a handful of casts before I drew first blood. I had pitched to this sunken log, picked up the slack line before I realized my line was moving the opposite direction it had started. I quickly set the hook and landed a respectable spotted bass to which was released to see another day. As the fish swam off I was on a slight high of excitement in knowing this was not going to be a skunk day. Always good to the stink out early I like to say. We continued a ways a bit up stream before fish #2. I had made a blind cast towards some rip rap, slowly dragging my bait back, then suddenly my bait got increasingly heavier until the tall tale rod bend of fish on. A very nice and healthy 3# Indiana smallmouth. After the obligatory photo shoot the fish was released. We had traveled further upstream before I scored not only fish #3, but by far my biggest smallmouth out of my kayak or at all this year. Tom had stopped by a bridge for a bio break, so I was blind casting/diking around a small chatterbait I had tied on at the start for giggles with no real intention of actually catching anything on it. Boy, was I wrong. Upon my second cast about 3/4 through the retrieve, to what seemed like slow motion, the leviathan arouse from his deep water hiding place and engulfed my bait. With the water be as cold as it was the fight was short, but spectacular. As I netted this beautiful creature I was awestruck by its size. After removing the hook I snagged a quick weight which sealed the deal on my assumptions. Coming in at 4# she was indeed my largest smallmouth of the season. I snapped a few quick pics to immortalize the event in time I released her. Tom and I paddled a little further upstream until we hit a impassable riffle, which I picked up one more fish, but in no comparison in size to the previous. we started to float back towards our cars, casting along the way until the wind that was pushing up back up stream became to much to handle. As I loaded up the car for probably the last time of the season I reflected on this past season. I have not only made a lifetime of new memories, but some new lifelong friends. I signed on as prostaff for WCO. I was able to competed in several tournaments both local and afar, scored a first place in one. I have tons of new water that I would have never dreamed about fishing or tried. I crossed off a few new species off my bucket list and tried a myriad of new fishing techniques and tricks to try to score that fish that's bigger than everyone else's. So when people tell me I'm crazy for fishing in weather like this I just laugh to myself, because I'm not crazy I'm just creating memories. Until next time. Tight Lines. -Kyle P.

    

The dragon and the dragon slayer.

I loaded up my trusty steed with my largest of swords post night so I may make a hasty departure in the earlier morn. Having a restless night having dreamed of going toe to toe with the beast of legends and lore. As the dawn broke I arose to the sound of the crow, dawned my armor, mounted my steed and was off to the land the dragons. My journey to the land to north was long but pleasant, for my electric Baird was filling the air with rock of old. As I near my destination I stopped in the local market to pick up some daggers to add in my quest. Chatted with the local shopkeeper who was amused to hear I was going into battle upon the mule I had in tow behind my steed. I assured him that I was up for a challenge that only the noblest of knights take on. Shortly upon leaving the market I arrived at my battle grounds. I, being only a squire, enlisted the help of a local crusader. We geared up, mounted our stallions and went into battle.

Now if only if my story could be great enough to have stood toe to toe with Lancelot, King Arthur and the Round Table. Unfortunately this story is far from glamorous and exciting. As stated above I headed north in hopes of muskie, the fish of a thousand casts. I met up with Mike Densel at a local northern lake. Having never chased this elusive fish I was glad I had Mike there, helped past the endless drone of cast, retrieve, figure eight, repeat. We threw just about everything we had and covered almost every inch of the lake only to come up empty handed, not even one follower, one of the many fun qualities of the muskie. Even though I still have yet to put a check mark next to this on my "Fish to Catch Out of My Kayak" list I had a good time with a new fishing friend. I'm sure I will be going back to land of dragons in the future. But as for now this young squire, sore from burning baits that resemble boat anchors with the size to match, I am just going to dream and prepare for my next chance to go into battle. Until next time. Tight Lines. -Kyle P.

      

Gotta have at least one bad day or two, or three...

I know it has been a while since I have documented some of my kayak fishing adventures. Well it is hard to write about the bad days. They just aren't fun to read about no fish or one fish. But that's fishing.
Well like I said I have been in a rather low slump this past month or so. Between family functions, cleaning out the garage, playing dad, ect. I just haven't been on the water as much as I would like, especially coming off a win on one tournament and missing 5th place by 1/4" in another. The last 3 times I've been out fishing have just plain SUCKED! Now before all you bass guys go talking about the changes in the weather and blah, blah, blah. I know that all plays. But I've been fishing what I know, The River! I understand river smallmouths like they are my own children. I know to slow way down on presentation, I know to down size, I know to look for slower water cause its warmer, I know all the things I should know about this time of year. It's just for some odd reason the fishing gods have not been nice to me these past few trips.
Now having said all that above. Yesterday was a slightly decent day. Just like I have started so many stories in the past with "met up with Tom to do a little fishing" this day is no different. We decided to fish a stretch of White River I had never fished before, but I was not scared and I love new water so bring it. We met at the at the take out which I have started many a float in my past years, loaded up Tom's car top and head up river. We put in at another familiar spot from my years. Again I know I'm talking about how I know these two points, which is true, but I have never floated from one to the other. Anyway, we launched in the cool morning sun, we drifted not far from the put in when I decided I need to change up a bait. I figured while I was swapping out a bait on one rod I'll throw out another, so grabbing said other rod I made a short cast just to get it away from the boat and stuck it in the rod holder. I went about my ways rummaging through my many latch cases and plastics bags trying to decided what to throw when I felt a slight tick. Now I didn't pay much mind to this thinking it was just a submerged stick or something else that's common in the river that I bumped into. Well I finally picked a bait, got it tied on and made ready to fire out a cast as soon as I reeled in the one I had out. I plucked the rod from its nest and began to reel in the slack when suddenly the slack started to tighten and the plastic worm on the felt a lot heavier than when I threw it out which only means 2 things 1, I've got snagged or 2, FISH ON! Thankfully it was the latter. The fish began to just slowly pull drag, there was no runs, no acrobatics, really no fight. As I play this fish out I'm constantly wondering what is this fish, it's not fight like a smallie, the are bulldogs with acrobatic flair, it's not a catfish or I would be going for a sleigh ride around the river, I know maybe it's a walleye, they don't fight but rather just give up the moment they've been hooked. So as I get the fish closer it shows it's self in a grandiose manner with a beautiful leap out of the water which confirmed 2 things, this fish is a smallmouth and a toad of one. Well I got it landed and was amazed at the chunkiness of this fish. I have caught several large smallies on the river and they all look the same, long and slender, but this one was short and thick. A beautiful fish. As I remove the hook from the fish I'm thinking, yes the fishing gods have smiled upon me and graced me with what is going to be a great day of fishing. WRONG! I quickly found out my camera battery was dead and I forgot to hit record on the GoPro, so I had no photo or video proof of this beautiful fish. But, lucky for me I have a Tom, who was snapping photos like a mad man as I was unhooking the fish, so I grabbed a few candid photo ops before releasing her to catch another day. The rest of the day went on pretty uneventful. Both Tom and I threw about every lure and plastic we owned only to a couple more fish for the effort. So as I sit here and type looking at the extended forecast counting down the days I have left to fish out of my kayak before old man winter puts his icy grips on the water, I ask the fishing gods to bless me with just one last great day before I have to hung up the kayak for an ice auger.
As always, Tight Lines everyone. -Kyle P.

A day with my Mistress...

Oh my mistress. She is beautiful, she is tranquil, she is warm, she is cold, she is curvy, she is angry, she is up, she is down, she is peaceful, she is raging. For my mistress, she is the river and on this day she was the greatest she has been.
Now before I start I was on more of creek than an river, but who's counting. For those of you that know I am a true river rat when it comes to fishing. If it is a flowing body of water, I wanna be on it. I love a peaceful float, enjoying the ever changing scenery and wildlife you just can't get on a lake. I love having to plan the day based on rainfall, flow rate and clarity. I just love the river. Well today was a river day and what a day it was.
The started off like some many this year. Met up with Tom, then it was off to virgin waters. For me anyways. After a short jaunt we landed on the shores of the beautiful Sugar Creek. Surprisingly with the recent rain we had it was not up but maybe a foot, it did however stain the water a touch. This really played to our advantage as Sugar is normally crystal clear. Today was also the day I figured I would try a new technique I have been milling over for awhile now, the Mojo Rig, think finesse Carolina rig with only a hook and a split shot.
Shortly after we set off from the put in I got the skunk out of the boat with two fish back to back. As we progressed to our destination the Mojo Rig seemed to be the right choice. Having caught many, many small to decent smallmouth I still hadn't snagged the big ones that lurk in the holes and shadows of rocks, well that time was coming. I floated by some textbook structure, cast, thump, FISH ON! Finally, the fish I have been waiting for not only since I started the day, but all summer. She ended up being a very nice 2lbs fish. After the photo op a quick revive, she was off unharmed to be caught again only a little wiser.
The continued with both Tom and I scoring fish after fish, Tom with his spinnerbait and I with the Mojo. While floating by some nice rock lined banks, Tom throws his spinnerbait which was quickly and violently hit. The hit being so quick Tom didn't even have time for a hook set before the fish dropped it. I quickly fired my bait in the area of the miss only to feel the thump followed by my line screaming off in another direction. I slammed home the hook set for another Sugar Creek toad and a stellar assist. The day continued and ended with too many fish to name or photo.
Once again my mistress was kind to me and showed me a great day on her. Tight Lines -Kyle

  

Kayak Angling with Kaiden!

For those of you that don't know me there are only a few things in life I love and enjoy more than being on the water. One of those few thing are my kids. Well today I was able to enjoy both of those at the same time.

For the last 2 years my son has been my bank fishing buddy. He loves going down to the pond to fish with dad. I love hearing his "I catched a fish" to which I politely correct. Well ever since I teamed up with WCO and that crazy group of guys. I have been on the water pretty much every weekend rain or shine. Kaiden always watches and helps me load up and get ready for these outings always asking if he can come with, to which I reply a heart aching no. Now before anyone starts hammering me on being a horrible father hear me out a second. For one Kaiden has no had a proper pfd until recently and two during my adventures I am constantly looking for good water to take him. Water that has easy in and out, a decent amount of fish in the "Kaiden" size category, low boat traffic and low current speed in case of the always present worst case scenario. Well today his day finally came. I had got him a proper pfd, respooled his pool, made sure the camera was charged and prepared myself mentally.

Our day started a little later than what dad would have like, but when you stay the night at Grandma's you tend not to want to leave. So after lathering on the sunscreen, grabbing the Cars and Star Wars poles, some of daddy's jigs we were off. After a stop at the bait shop on the way to the put in for some minnows to help increase our odds for success. We finally arrive at our spot, later than I would like, I see many cars and trucks and trailers. Our spot is rather crowded with the weekend paddlers. Our spot is overrun with kids with paddles and oars and giant metal floating drums. So I'm already praying that we catch a least one fish. I unload the yak from the trailer and with the help of Kaiden quickly load up and hit the water. Now this particular stretch of river I knew met my checklist from the previous day's fishing. We paddle up stream a bit from the ramp find some nice shade and begin wettin some lines. Kaiden throwing a Beetle Spin and I with a bobber rig. Which I might add if you have never seen a grown man throw a 2' Star Wars themed pole that lights up when you push the button like a pro bass angler, it's a sight... Well we chill in the shade for a bit with no bit. I started thinking to myself "Wait, this is not how I fish for smallies. I float!" So we do just that. I move us to the middle of the river and start drifting. Kaiden still throwing the BS and me with the bobber. I cast out the minnow and just let it drift with us as I start throwing my UL from yesterday. After a few casts I look to where the bobber should be and to my surprise no bobber. I quickly say to Kaiden to grab the rod and reel, reel, reel. He looks at me with the confused yet amazed stare. As he's reeling his heart out the acrobatics begin. That's when the look I was waiting for all day happened. His eyes grew about 4 size along with the grin on his face. Not only has he hooked a fish, but he has hooked his first smallie (first of many to come I hope. Got to the boat, took the photo and release. The rest of the day went uneventful, the weekend paddler traffic increased and this dad say it's time to go home. We drift back to the ramp load up and head home, but without making a stop for some celebratory ice cream. As we make our way home somebody takes a nap and the other reflects on the day. Let you guess who did what. As I stare at him through the rear view this dad finds a tear in his eyes. Because this dad knows that there are many more of these memories to come and one day when the torch is past onto from father to son when son becomes father that he too will be in the same place as I was today. Until next time. Tight lines.

The Ultra lighter side of life

As the fog rises off the sheet glass water, a loon calls in the distance, the sun breaks the horizon as if to tell the angler "good morning you are in for a great day of fishing." Alas I would like to say my mornings were that perfect every time I went out, but alas we all know that ain't true. My day started off like every other day on the water for me. Meet up with some fellow WCO members (Tom drew the short straw today ;) ) at the previously decided spot, hit the water, catch fish (or I should say hope to catch fish). Today though was a little different for me. I was on a mission. I was playing Captain Ahab. I was chasing my white whale, given my white whale is bronze and didn't take my leg. For those of you at a loss as to what I'm talking about, smallmouth. Yes, smallmouth. That is the one fish that has eluded me all season this year. Every chance I have gotten on the river I have either A. got skunked or B. ended up chasing something more toothy. So my day had only one goal, BOAT A DAMN SMALLIE!

Now having way more control than ol' Ahab I looked for something to focus more of obsession towards. I decided to try the ultra light challenge. For those of you that don't know what this is I'll break it down for you.

Rod: Ultra light action rod in the 4-5.5' range
Line: 2-4# test. normally mono. (cheated slightly, used 4# braid)
Baits: Lures and jigs 1/64-1/4oz

As you can see small, oh so small. So armed with my 5' UL and a handful of some small jigs and lures the ultra light challenge was on. Now I'm no stranger to tackling large fish on lighter than normal tackle, but I would be lying if I said I was hoping to land a monster. In reality I was just wanting to catch some fish. A toad would be nice, but I wasn't completely sure my equipment or I for that matter could handle it.

So Tom and I launched, paddled up river a bit to a nice riffle. We both beached the kayaks and did a little wading. Working a Teeny Pop-R I quickly decided this bait isn't cutting it. I grab what tiny tackle box I had brought and tied on the smallest Chatter Bait they make. I tipped it with the closest thing to a crawdad I had which was a brown curly tail grub. First cast into the definition of a perfect eddy line and BAM! Now of course I'm thinking smallie. I mean it was textbook location. Oh how much to my dismay to have pulled in those lovely pit pulls of the river a rock bass. Quickly released and went back at it. After a few more hook ups of rock bass and an over zealous largemouth a slight funk come over me. Am I going to go bust again on smallmouth? Am I destined to go all season for one?  At this point is were Ahab and I are one. I continued to completely and probably overly worked that riffle. Then suddenly a thump on the line, fish on. Thinking great another rock bass, then the tall tale sign I was waiting for all morning, the acrobatics of a smallie. Finally my dry spell is over. I have never been so glad to catch a fish. It wasn't big, or average size for that matter. But it was the first smallmouth of the season. It can only get better from there.

The day went on with both Tom and I boating some more fish, including 2 nice catfish Tom managed to get. With the take out in sight I think that not only did I take on the ultra light challenge (which I will take on again in the near future), but I also ended an 8 month slump. Until next time. Tight Lines.