River me this, River me that

I am starting this off by saying I have utterly failed my love so far this year. I have not given her the attention she needs. I have only floated the river twice this year. That just sickens me. Between weather, tournaments, life and ect. I just haven't had great opportunities to have my way with her like I normally do. Well thanks to the last 3 weeks of solid rain and mass flooding, I saw my chance to take a go at my mistress and reap the benefits of an untouched river. With a final break in the weather I put the old internet to work. Scoured gauge and weather reports. GOOD NEWS! Levels are falling fast. So put out the APB on Facebook, hoping to get a comrade in my adventure to make things easier. Days pass with no word from the kayak brigade, until Friday, I get a call from fellow WCO teammate Kyle Hammond. He asks if I'm still planning on fishing on Sunday. Which of course I was. Told him I would get back with him Saturday evening to work out the details.

Saturday comes we decide a river. Kyle suggests a stretch which I have never fished so I was totally game. Picked an afternoon float and it was on. Kyle arrived at the take out a few minutes before me which gave him ample time to shoot me a call to tell me the river couldn't be in better condition. I pull up to what I can only call Perfection. What I am about to describe will only truly be appreciated by the other RiverRats out there. The water had a perfect flow rate, slight off color, nice riffles, boulders, gravel bottom, lay downs, down right perfection. We decide to leave Kyle's truck at the take out and run my rig up to the put in. As he is loading up his gear into my truck I suddenly realize that I had forgot my paddle. After a few minutes of bewilderment I decide I've come to far and its been too long I'll make it work. I mean I'm floating a river, no worries. My cohort and I make the short jaunt up the road to the put in and made haste to launch. As we were launching I remembered I had a piece of PVC pipe in my kayak. SCORE! Makeshift paddle. Right off the bat Kyle draws first blood with a nice 12" smallmouth to which I returned with the devil of the river, a rock bass, hate them things. As we floated it was very apparent that these fish were hungry. They were absolutely crushing our baits. Kyle was killing them on a white Zoom Fluke and a Bomber crankbait and I on a Power Team Lures pearl Grub and a Susky Slayer Food Chain Tube. Every textbook spot there should have been a fish there was a fish, if not multiple. We were catching some decent fish with a majority in the 12-14" range until we came up on a nice little split in the river. Kyle made a perfect cast between two trees and with a couple cranks of the reel, it was on. All I could see was his rod pumping. He had was getting bulldogged like crazy. He was finally able to subdue the beast, a gorgeous fatty. We put her to the board and she topped out at 17", a great smallmouth in anybody's mind. After some pictures she was released and I was able to pull 6 more fish out of the same hole as Big Mamma. None in comparison to his but all decent fish. The float continued and finished with more fish caught and the agreement that we will do this float again, only with my paddle next time. Until next time, Tight Lines. -Kyle P.

"Plan B"

Plan B. Those proverbial two words every angler or anyone for that matter don’t want to hear or utter. In light of recent storms and upcoming tournament I thought I would sit back and reflect on how important “Plan B” should be.

I, as most of us kayak anglers, attempt to get out as much as humanly possible. So when a good friend asks if you want to fish a private lake loaded with big, fat mama’s you don’t decline. Which is the case of my last outing. I most of my fishing exploits begin I was lazily sitting watching TV early in the week relaxing from not only from a grueling previous week of work but also my recent tournament on Patoka, which her and I have much unfinished business. You know what you did! Anyway, as I sit enjoying whatever brain rotting smut is on the tube I receive a text from good buddy and fellow Bass Crazy nut, Chad. He informs me that there is an awesome private lake loaded with fish and would I be inclined to join him on the adventure. Like a child getting asked if he would want ice cream for dinner I excitedly said yes. As the week progressed and the rains fell in central Indiana, close to a week straight I paid little attention. For rain while on a lake is no big to me, just another day on the water. Rain on my river days, we got a problem. Friday rolls around, another text from Chad.

“Looks like rain tomorrow.”

“And?” I reply

“Oh, nothing just though you would like to know before you drive down.”

“Nope, I’m good. No lightening and gale force winds. I’m sound as a pound. Besides we’ve had approximately 6 days of straight rain, what’s one more day?”

  “Awesome, see you in the morning.”

4 am comes quick when you can’t sleep. But, unlike work days I pop out of bed and ready myself for the day without hitting the snooze, cursing at the time or drag to get ready, for there are fish to be had. Being the ultra-prepared I fisherman I am, I was loaded up the night before, so a quick turn of the ignition and off I go. Upon arrival it was quite clear that they had received some pretty severe storms that we did not, but again lake, no worries. With all meetings of fisherman there is a ritual exchanging of formalities.  After the greetings I am informed we are still awaiting the arrival of our third cohort, who apparently unlike every other fisherman I know is good friends with his snooze button. Chad and I finally get tired of discussing fishing, the tournament on Patoka and our upcoming project and decide to head out and Sleeping Beauty will meet us there. As we whipped and winded through the back roads of rural southern Indiana it was very clear just how bad the storms were the night before. Several spots of high water, downed trees and all around windblown carnage. We finally arrived at the crossroad to salvation. All that separated us from fat bottom girls and heart ache was a right turn. We quickly noticed a couple of vehicles on either side of a rather large puddle that had formed over the road. Now I am no stranger to high water and I have done some crazy things in the past so I got this. Upon further investigation into the situation I happened to notice a mailbox, or what I can only assume was a mailbox as much of it was underwater. It was at that moment the realization that “I got this!” turned to “HOLY S*** THAT’S SOME DEEP WATER!” To both Chad and I’s amazement we sat and watched a rather large diesel take on what I’m referring to Heartbreak Lake. He slowly and cautiously forded through, to which the water rose to roughly halfway up the door. It was apparent we’re not going that way. Quickly the phones came out and an alternate route was the goal much to no avail. So just like that hopes, dreams, ambitions and whatever other thoughts of joy were gone. CURSE YOU HEARTBREAK LAKE!! So Chad being the gracious host that he is quickly made some calls, Plan B was in full swing. A quick rendezvous back at the house with Sleeping Beauty and off to spot number two. Which much to our surprise came with just as much excitement as Plan A. Mainly the complete removal of a couple of downed trees from the road. The day did in the water and did not end with a skunk. But it shows to importance of having that all-encompassing “Plan B” or “C” or whatever letter you make it to. Even now as I sit here, scouring over weather charts, gauge readings farmers almanacs, ect. in preparation for the Midwest Madness tournament. Which if you fish just one tournament a year or thinking of fishing one. This tournament is awesome. Any public water in the state is fair game, party at weigh in, amazing prizes. But anyway, I’m planning my “Plan B.” So just remember that we may all hate “Plan B” but we should never overlook the fact that it is just as important, if not more important than “Plan A.” Until next time, Tight Lines.     

Gone Crazy..... BassCrazy365

This past Saturday I had the pleasure of hanging out with the founders of the BassCrazy365.net, Chad Brock and Zach Bailiff. Before I get started let us go back in time to the Boat, Sport and Travel show, this was the first time I got to witness the Crazy in BassCrazy. While working the Wildcat Creek Outfitter booth while they were interviewing fellow WCO team member Jameson Olsen about kayak fishing and whatnot they decided to take the Jackson Big Rig for a spin in the pool putting the 500lbs weight capacity to its limit by putting them along with their camera man on said kayak. Now I sat there watching 3 grown men act like children I knew I liked these guys before I met them. They were my kind of people. They looked at fishing the way everyone should a fun fueled roller coaster with a no line to wait in. So after that day I have talked with them several times through Facebook and got to know them a lot more. Laughing at the transition of a big boat angler to the kayak angler the two are going through. The battling of boat control, the ever madding dilemma of gear vs space you don't have to fight in a bigger boat, the game of inches vs pounds (by far this best, don't think they will get the hang of that one). Anyway Wednesday I receive a  message from Chad asking if I want to go fishing over Memorial day weekend. I obviously do cause it's fishing and I don't pass that up, told him I would check with the wife and get back to him. Check with my lovely, beautiful, super understanding wife. She gives me the OK for Saturday. I get back with Chad we work out the details, Yellowwood Lake at 6 a.m.

6 a.m. Saturday rolls around I'm waiting at the ramp to Yellowwood. Now I have not ever fished Yellowwood. My first impressions were this looks like a nice little lake, ~110 acres, electric motor only and surrounding by beautiful Yellowwood State Forest. I also did my research and from what I found it is not known for big bass, but big panfish. Even though the bass are known to be small they said there are a few hidden gems in there. So Chad and Zach roll up, we make the typical 6 a.m. greeting and talk fishing. Now I told them I wouldn't bring this up but it was to funny not to. They both showed up in not only matching kayaks but also matching shirts and these weren't like team jersey's but actual matching shirts. So we had a good chuckle over the his and her kayaks then it was down to business. I started off throwing a frog through what I thought would have been amazing frog water. Shoreline lined with grass in about 2 foot of water. After about 30 min with only one missed strike to show for it I switched tactics. Started throwing a weightless stick worm through the grass after a tip from another yakker, Joe Gentry, that also met up with us for the fun. I immediately hooked up with a small fish, then another. While chatting with Joe about the most recent IKA event on Hurshtown he set the hook in one of those hidden gems. A nice, fat, healthy 5 lbs bass.  After some pictures she was released. After several more small fish a "meeting of minds" if you will and use that term loosely happened in the middle of the lake at the bewilderment of on lookers. We sat and discussed the growing trends in yak angling, what events we would like to see (still trying to get somebody to host a One Bait Challenge) and just all around fishing stuff. We finished up our pow wow and it was back to more fishing. Several more small fish and several more small fish I finally found a gem. I caught a nice 2 lbs bass. Not the 5 lbs monster Joe caught but a nice change of pace from the several small fish we were catching. More time past, more small fish were caught, then towards the very end of the day I caught a fish the lake is known for, a monster hybrid bluegill. It put up quite a tussle. After some pictures I released her to grow even bigger. As we loaded up back at the ramp, we swapped fish stories of the day and threw out ideas for our next BassCrazy adventure. As I pulled away from the ramp and headed home I knew I had found some new friends, friends that going to take their kayak fishing to the extreme like I have been doing since I started. I look forward for the next time the crew and I fish. Until next time. Tight Lines.

New season, New reason

I know it has been a long time since the last post. Well I've been crazy busy in between the last couple of outings so far, an epic trip down to Louisiana (story below), The season kick starter Indiana Kayak Anglers tournament on Hurshtown Reservoir which I secured a solid 4th place finished and a very uneventful trip to scout out some new water (stay tuned for that trip).

Back in November/Decemberish my good old buddy Tom calls me up and asks if I down for the Jacksonville Kayak Fishing Classic again. I tell him I'll need to check with my amazing, terrific, beautiful loving wife since I missed not only Mother's Day, but also her birthday because of it. She being the awesome wife she is said "NO!!!! But if you want to go a trip you get 1 week it just can't be that weekend." Fair enough, relayed info to Tom and it was on to Google to see where to go. Keyed in "top kayak fishing destinations" and you get a couple of lists from YakAngler magazine. I noticed between the list there was 1 place that kept showing up in the top 5 if not the #1 spot. Grand Isle, Louisiana. Did another search and found that there was a reason for its placings. GI is crazy kayak friendly. You can literally launch everywhere! There is marsh as far as the eye can see on one side of the island and the Gulf on the other. Talked it over with Tom and it was settled, Grand Isle are the end of March.

Departure day came quickly. Tom, Lester (friend of Tom's) and I loaded up in his RV and were off. The 2 day trek down was fun, 3 guys swapping fishing stories, dirty jokes, etc. Finally arriving we were giddy as school girls to get on the water and wet some lines. We quickly readied the RV for our stay and we were off. We didn't need to drive far for water that looked fishy. The three of us launched into that brackish tea stained water that is the Mississippi Delta. Quickly we realized why this was the #1 kayak fishing destination, FISH EVERYWHERE!!! Tom and Lester hooked up quickly with a couple fish, I on the other hand, not so much. I struggled to land my first redfish. With the light fading and still no fish I spotted a small cut in the marsh where some mullet were going crazy. I ninja my kayak into the cut and notice why they were going crazy. There were several reds pushing them up to the back of this cut. I launch a my new Arashi Wake Bait into the fray. I reel in the bait with the anticipation of a violent strike. As is gets closer and closer visions of a screaming drags and bent rods are a flurry in my mind. Then......NOTHING! I launch the bait several more times into school with the same result. Finally on my last last cast before its too dark to find our way back I get the violent strike I was waiting for. The drag screamed, the rod bent. It was not the biggest fish of the trip, but it was the greatest catch of the trip. It was my first ever redfish. After years of watching tv and Youtube videos I finally realized why these are sought after fish. I was hooked.

The next morning came with a revisit to the spot before with the same stellar results. Being adventurous and being there is thousands of acres of marsh we picked a different local for the evening. As we slowly drifted along, blind casting we pass some high voltage power line towers. I think "Hey, that looks like there might be hanging out near the pillions." I pitch my swim bait in between two of them with real no thought that there might actually be a fish there. Not paying to much attention as I'm retrieving came the thunder. A strike that nearly ripped my brand new Denali Kovert from my hand into the drink. Quickly regaining my composer I began the battle. After about 5 min or so the fish surrendered, a beautiful 28" red. The biggest redfish of the trip. Day 3 morning came, back to the honey hole. This time TAILERS! Everywhere we looked we saw tails in the air from rooting fish. This what you see on tv, guys sight casting to fish. The three of us had a blast casting to these fish. The take was visual and aggressive. Pitch a Gulp! shrimp ~2ft or less in front of them, a couple little hops and BOOM! Fish on. We fished the morning tide with several hook ups, a few misses and couple of heart breaks. The evening tide came around and so did a trip back to spot #2. This time I had a new plan, beat the big red from the day before. I picked up some frozen mullet for bait. I told Tom and Lester to go off and do their thing I was gonna fish a deep channel. They went off, I dropped a bait and drifted slowly with current. With the rod in my holder I drifted off into the daze that is the beauty of the marsh. Suddenly the rod snaps sideways and I snap to. Grabbing the rod with the feeling of nothing on the end my heart sinks. I reel what I think is possibly an empty hook. As I get the bait close to my kayak, it skips across the surface when about 5' from the kayak emerges a grey fin. I immediately pull the bait from the water in utter shock and awe, trying to figure out what that was. Dolphin, shark, no clue. I snapped myself back into reality and drop my bait back into the water. The line goes tight as soon as it hits the bottom then just as fast goes limp. I reel it it, I've been clipped. So now knowing I'm dealing with a shark I grab a steel leader tie it on and drop another bait. I drift for about 15 seconds, line goes tight, drags starts screaming, FISH ON! A rush of excitement comes over me as I have just caught a shark from my kayak, no sooner I realize that I realize I JUST CAUGHT A SHARK FROM MY KAYAK! CRAP! So here I am, alone, with a shark on my line. The tug of war begins with give and take of line from reel. I finally just say F It! Crank the drag down and let him take him take me for a nice little ride. ~10 minutes pass with no give in either opponent. I'm trying to call for help via my phone with no avail, to which about that time Tom and Lester round the corner only to seem we with a bent rod and look of help on my face. "Big red!" Lester yells out to which I reply "SHARK!" They realize my predicament, paddle over snap some photos and release a nice 4' blacktip. By far the greatest highlight of the trip for me and with most likely be my all time favorite catches. The final day came with the only skunk day of the trip. As we headed home plans for next years trip down to Grand Isle play out in our minds.

Until next time. Tight Lines

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.