Post by reelteacher on May 13, 2012 15:27:18 GMT -5
Greetings from Louisville.
As you can imagine, I've been fishing pretty much non-stop since I moved here with my Amazing wife last summer. Lucky for me, she doesn't mind all that much, as long as I take her with me from time to time. She has become quite proficient as a caster and is now sending line 50 ft or more through the guides. Quite impressive, but what's more than that is she has the ability to catch most of the fish and always the largest fish. But this post is not about her, it's about an amazing fishery I have discovered! Actually, Pilot had the idea of floating this last fall and we knew it had potential then.
Sat. May 12, I woke early and drove the 45 min. east from my house to the put in site just north of Frankfort. I took my single man pontoon boat and paddled upstream about a mile through several riffles and long pools before I was stopped by about a 1/4 mile of consecutive rapids. I anchored my craft and waded upstream to the top of the rapids and worked a white streamer down through the white water and holes behind the larger boulders. To my great joy, I landed 5 smallies within about 15 minutes. Granted, they were only the 6 - 8 inch variety, but a blast in the heavy current and jumped three to four times, twisting and turning in the air. As I reached my boat at the base of the rapids, I tied on my favorite deer hair popper and began to work the edges of the current along the bubble lines. I was rewarded with two more fish before I climbed into the seat and began to drift back down to the car. As I was messing with the anchor, an enormous fish nearly ripped the pole from between my legs as it grabbed the popper swinging in the current below me. Trying to save my pole, I grabbed it with my free hand and gave it an awkward yank to try to set the hook. But, it was over... The monster had vanished into the deep swirling waters behind the smooth cuts of limestone ledges and rubble that offer prime habitat for such creatures. So it becomes just another story, in the millions of memories throughout my life that end with the words, "....it was gone!"
Trying to look on the bright side, I noticed that he didn't break my tippet or my pole for that matter. I regained my composure, and made several more casts around that area and further downstream. I approached a nice rocky wing dam that protruded out 5 ft. from the bank on the left side. I made a long cast just upstream of the structure and slowly popped the bug as it drifted down into the honey hole... Smash!! Another big bass broke the surface film and swirled around to engulf my hairy offering and I gave a mighty hook set and.... it too had disappeared... Gone, without a trace of evidence. I didn't even feel it. I through it back in disbelief, hoping for the return of the wicked beast, and nothing! 4 or 5 more casts... and nothing. Slowly, my frustration began to build. I checked the hook, it was sharp and appeared normal. I hauled up the anchor and continued to drift through the long pool, punctuated by stream side rocky substrate, shale and sandstone bluffs. I managed to land a few more fish in the 10 inch range, but didn't manage to bring up anything of real size. So, I decided to go with the Krebsie special popper. On the first cast, a nice 12" smallmouth jumped all the way out of the water to eat it. Even after all these years of catching countless smallmouth in streams all over the midwest, I can't get over that excitement of seeing those beautiful bronzebacks eat a surface bug and the fight they endure. My Fenwick 6wt. was bent double as the fish swam under my pontoon and charged toward my anchor rope. I swung myself around and stretched out my arm as I tried to clear the fish from beneath me. Luckily, that worked and after a few more jumps, I landed the nice bass beside me.
A few fish later and several hundred feet downstream, I cast under a large Sycamore tree. It had the characteristic root crown above the surface of the water, and several large boulders with a deep hole below them. I was daydreaming about how amazing the morning had been when a splash and swirl broke the tranquility of the moment. I set the hook into a heavy fish that dove hard into the water and was determined to go around every big rock that it could find. I pulled hard to bring it from the depths and could tell by the head shakes, that this was a great fish. He was a bruiser and I had dreams of the 20 inch club. He finally jumped out of the water and was large. I landed him and measured him to be 16 inches. I was thrilled and he was a nice fish. I considered myself fortunate to even hook it, after all my misses earlier in the day.
It was a great trip, and I can't wait to do this again!
Beautiful image of the Elkhorn.
One of many nice smallmouth landed that day.
It was full of brilliantly colored sunfish, most were spawning right next to the bank.
The best fish of the day. Powerful!
A beautiful day on the water...
As you can imagine, I've been fishing pretty much non-stop since I moved here with my Amazing wife last summer. Lucky for me, she doesn't mind all that much, as long as I take her with me from time to time. She has become quite proficient as a caster and is now sending line 50 ft or more through the guides. Quite impressive, but what's more than that is she has the ability to catch most of the fish and always the largest fish. But this post is not about her, it's about an amazing fishery I have discovered! Actually, Pilot had the idea of floating this last fall and we knew it had potential then.
Sat. May 12, I woke early and drove the 45 min. east from my house to the put in site just north of Frankfort. I took my single man pontoon boat and paddled upstream about a mile through several riffles and long pools before I was stopped by about a 1/4 mile of consecutive rapids. I anchored my craft and waded upstream to the top of the rapids and worked a white streamer down through the white water and holes behind the larger boulders. To my great joy, I landed 5 smallies within about 15 minutes. Granted, they were only the 6 - 8 inch variety, but a blast in the heavy current and jumped three to four times, twisting and turning in the air. As I reached my boat at the base of the rapids, I tied on my favorite deer hair popper and began to work the edges of the current along the bubble lines. I was rewarded with two more fish before I climbed into the seat and began to drift back down to the car. As I was messing with the anchor, an enormous fish nearly ripped the pole from between my legs as it grabbed the popper swinging in the current below me. Trying to save my pole, I grabbed it with my free hand and gave it an awkward yank to try to set the hook. But, it was over... The monster had vanished into the deep swirling waters behind the smooth cuts of limestone ledges and rubble that offer prime habitat for such creatures. So it becomes just another story, in the millions of memories throughout my life that end with the words, "....it was gone!"
Trying to look on the bright side, I noticed that he didn't break my tippet or my pole for that matter. I regained my composure, and made several more casts around that area and further downstream. I approached a nice rocky wing dam that protruded out 5 ft. from the bank on the left side. I made a long cast just upstream of the structure and slowly popped the bug as it drifted down into the honey hole... Smash!! Another big bass broke the surface film and swirled around to engulf my hairy offering and I gave a mighty hook set and.... it too had disappeared... Gone, without a trace of evidence. I didn't even feel it. I through it back in disbelief, hoping for the return of the wicked beast, and nothing! 4 or 5 more casts... and nothing. Slowly, my frustration began to build. I checked the hook, it was sharp and appeared normal. I hauled up the anchor and continued to drift through the long pool, punctuated by stream side rocky substrate, shale and sandstone bluffs. I managed to land a few more fish in the 10 inch range, but didn't manage to bring up anything of real size. So, I decided to go with the Krebsie special popper. On the first cast, a nice 12" smallmouth jumped all the way out of the water to eat it. Even after all these years of catching countless smallmouth in streams all over the midwest, I can't get over that excitement of seeing those beautiful bronzebacks eat a surface bug and the fight they endure. My Fenwick 6wt. was bent double as the fish swam under my pontoon and charged toward my anchor rope. I swung myself around and stretched out my arm as I tried to clear the fish from beneath me. Luckily, that worked and after a few more jumps, I landed the nice bass beside me.
A few fish later and several hundred feet downstream, I cast under a large Sycamore tree. It had the characteristic root crown above the surface of the water, and several large boulders with a deep hole below them. I was daydreaming about how amazing the morning had been when a splash and swirl broke the tranquility of the moment. I set the hook into a heavy fish that dove hard into the water and was determined to go around every big rock that it could find. I pulled hard to bring it from the depths and could tell by the head shakes, that this was a great fish. He was a bruiser and I had dreams of the 20 inch club. He finally jumped out of the water and was large. I landed him and measured him to be 16 inches. I was thrilled and he was a nice fish. I considered myself fortunate to even hook it, after all my misses earlier in the day.
It was a great trip, and I can't wait to do this again!
Beautiful image of the Elkhorn.
One of many nice smallmouth landed that day.
It was full of brilliantly colored sunfish, most were spawning right next to the bank.
The best fish of the day. Powerful!
A beautiful day on the water...