Most of this week has been spent telling myself I need to fish more. Fishing Sunday and Monday apparently wasn’t enough to make up for the recent dearth of fishing trips. What I’m really craving is a good trout fishing trip, but when the nearest trout water is 50 minutes away you simply take what you can get. About three miles from where I live is a small lake that most people would miss when driving by. It is tucked back in the woods mostly out of sight and the entrance is unmarked. However, it is a public lake with a TWRA boat ramp. When I first bought a float tube earlier this year, I envisioned evening trips to this particular lake on a regular basis, but so far those dreams have not been realized.
In an effort to start fishing more and begin learning the lake, I decided to drive over last evening to see what was going on. The float tube came out and was soon ready to go. I quickly dug through my fly boxes looking for enough random bass and panfish flies to make the evening a success. Soon I was on the road, happy to be going fishing again. The first time I took the tube out, pre-launch preparations took me quite awhile but this time I was in the water fairly quickly, kicking my way across the lake with a large diving hairbug in tow.
The first 20 minutes produced absolutely nothing on the large bassbug so I switched to a small Clouser. Again, nothing happened. While I don’t consider myself a particularly proficient warm water fisherman, I at least like to imagine that I can manage to get by. The first 30 minutes on the water had me wondering if I really truly had no clue what I was doing or if the lake only offered poor fishing. Finally, after kicking across the lake to another shoreline, I snagged my fly within a few feet of the bank and had to work in close to retrieve it. As I moved into the shallows, I saw small bass and bluegill spooking in all directions.
Convinced that it must be my method, I decided to try a smaller fly. Out came the fly boxes again and this time I decided to try a small Simi Seal Leech. These simple but deadly flies are some of my favorites for bluegill and small bass and work great for trout as well. Again I started slowly working the shoreline, but other than a couple of bumps, I couldn’t buy a fish. Moving into a cove, I finally discovered one reason that at least some of the fish weren’t biting well. I discovered a large area of bedded fish. There appeared to be both bass and some type of sunfish in this area although I can’t be positive that both were on beds since one may have been raiding the beds of the other.
The trip was pleasant and while it would have been nice to catch a few fish, the Mountain Laurel blooming along the water’s edge helped make my effort worthwhile. I still had to get back to the ramp though. The area where I found the large concentration of fish had been rested long enough so I slowly worked my way back. The first cast up against the shore produced a solid strike, and I soon was admiring a small bluegill. Releasing the fish, I quickly caught another, this time a yellow perch. Next, a nice 8” bluegill came to hand. Then the dreaded lull took over.
The evening shadows were growing long and the sun had disappeared below the hills. I decided that one last cast was in order before I called it a day. Most people have more than one "last cast," but I was actually reeling in line after this one. Right on cue, the largest bluegill of the day struck and staged a determined fight. The fish literally hit as I was reeling in the line so I just kept cranking away. The fish fought valiantly, but in the end I was the victor, my reward being a couple of pictures of the nice 9”+ fish. After watching the fish swim off, I started kicking back across the lake.
Probably midway back, excruciating pain surged through my leg. “What now?” I thought as a muscle cramp threatened to end my trip while I was still out on the lake. The leg simultaneously wanted to double up and straighten itself out. Balancing my fly rod across the tube, I massaged the tired muscles, hoping to end the misery. Reclining in the tube with my legs sticking straight out, I paddled slowly with my hands, laughing to myself at the absurdity of trying to go anywhere very quickly with my hands as the main propellant. I was making progress though and the thought of standing up to stretch my leg kept me going. By and by I realized that I could kick with the one good leg without going in circles if I was careful. Slowly the pain eased and by the time I approached the boat ramp, I was again kicking gently with both legs.
While some people would be worried about going out in a float tube again, I took the muscle spasms as I sign that I need to get out more. After all, the best way to avoid a problem of this nature is to strengthen the muscles involved. Last minute trips always seem to have a random occurrence, it just so happened that this one was quite unpleasant. Maybe next time I’ll make up for it by catching a monster fish.