Preparing for Spring Trout

I took a few hours today to perform some much needed maintenance on my long line arsenal.  While I watched college basketball, I stripped off roughly a mile and a half of mono and replaced it with fresh new line. 

I can go several years before an all out line replacement is required.  This last batch of line was on for 2 full seasons from early spring through late fall.  It endured some heavy use from trout to walleyes, almost always with a planer board pinched on. 

I'm not willing to gamble losing the fish of a lifetime for the cost of a few bucks worth of mono.  Perhaps you've heard about the absolutely giant brown trout showing up in Lake Michigans waters lately?

Having the proper tools on hand makes replacing 2,500 yards of line much more manageable.  Namely a high speed line stripper, and a table mount for line spools.  These items make this job a piece of cake.  Both are worth their weight in gold.  I consider these tools "must haves" for any serious trolling junky.

I'm now ready to rock.  In a few short weeks I'll be breaking my rig out of storage after a long winter slumber.  Bombarding the beaches of Lake Michigan is on my mind, in a big way.  Could you tell?

Stay tuned.

Super Steelheading

As I arrived at the river, conditions were ideal.  40 degrees, calm, with light drizzle.  Now would the steelhead cooperate?  Only time would tell.

I approached a great pool for winter steel, and made a few dozen drifts with only a small skipper to show for it.  Discouraged, I moved on. 

After several more runs and pools and not a single take, I was now seriously begining to question my decision of coming to the river.

Then it happened. 
My float zipped under, barely 10 feet from the tip of my custom Rainshadow rod. 

It's always a great feeling when you load up the rod, and the fish doesn't move but just shakes it's head in protest.  At that moment, there's no question that you've got a serious battle brewing.

After several nice runs, I was able to finally subdue a beautifully colored winter hen.  I gently slid her onto the rocks for a quick photo then sent her on her way, no worse for wear.

After every battle with a good sized fish I religiously retie my leader.  This process serves two important purposes. 

The first is to simply replace my typically damaged line.  The second, is to briefly reflect on the great fish that I had to good fortune to encounter.  To bask in the moment of glory, if you will.

I moved further upstream to the next likely winter holding water.  Three feet into my second drift, my float once again submerged. 

As I set the hook, and laid the wood to the fish, the rod just stopped.  It didn't move at all.  This was a pig.  A monster.

I couldn't budge it off the bottom of the slow, deep pool.  It's head would just shake.  It'd move left, it'd move right, but it wasn't coming in. 

After changing the angle of my rod relative to the water several times, I was able to finally lift the fish off the bottom and bring her ashore.  What a beauty!

Upon the release of my second great fish of the morning, and grinning ear to ear, I hiked further upstream in search of some new undisturbed water.

It didn't take long before I was once again hooked up with another solid adult steelhead.  After a relatively brief fight, I had the buck beached. 

Upon a closer review, I realized he had somewhat of a unique tail. This is the second fish I've caught this year with such an odd feature.  The first fish I'd seen like this we landed several weeks ago in the "winter plug bite" video. 

I couldn't help but wonder what causes this tail deformation?  Perhaps it's from spawning males nipping at each others tails?  Or maybe a hatchery defect?  A hungry northern pike?  Bacteria?  I'd never seen such a deformity before this winter.

I put "Mr. Funky Tail" back, then moved on to a very consistent spot for me.  A slow, deep pool that almost always houses a steelhead or at least a few browns.  Over the years this particular place has yielded many nice fish for me. 

I carefully approached my trusty old friend with a heightened sense of awareness.  The bite was on, and I knew it.

I made a dozen or so drifts with the hot jig of the day, and... nothin.  Not a single bump. 

Undeterred, I retied with a new color combo.  I knew the fish were there, I just needed to feed them what they wanted.

Hardly a few feet into my first drift with the new jig, the float zipped under the water.  I'm hooked up yet again!

This was a hot fish.  Peeling line like crazy.  A thumping rod.  Wicked acrobatics.  A very "springlike" battle.  

Between the feisty fish, and the warm(ish) weather it actually felt like spring! 

This turned out to be the smallest fish of the day, yet she had the most heart.  A quick photo, and this hen was on her way. 

Without moving my feet, I recast as far across river as I possibly could into the distant seam.  Sure enough there was a gnarly buck living there too, and away we went.

I'd now hit all my usual haunts for winter steel in this particular section of river.  It produced a much greater yield than I expected.  Especially for February! 

I ended the day going 8 for 10, all steelhead.  3 skippers, and 5 adults.  One hell of a day that I won't soon forget!

February Bounty

Today I had the opportunity to join a long time fishing buddy of mine on a perch pounding mission.  We hit the water at day break with much anticipation, for today would be somewhat unique.  We'd be sight fishing our quarry.

We basically drilled a monster hole in the ice, and gazed into the weedbed below.  Once the perch showed, we'd do our best to hook up!  There's really not much to it, but boy was it fun.  It felt like I was fishing in an aquarium!

Packs of hungry perch would pass by as I'd quickly make my jig dance trying to get their attention.  Sometimes they'd come in for a look, other times not. 

What a riot.

The fishing was good, but the eating... oh man!  Where's my beer?

Winter Plug Bite

After cutting and splicing roughly 6 hours, or 65 gigs of high definition video last night, I've finally got the finished product to share with you.  

On this particular outing the fish were far less cooperative than the previous trip, but we still managed to boat some solid Michigan chrome in front of the camera.

Let me know what you think.

Sneak Peek

We had another good day pulling plugs on the river today.  Between the 3 cameras onboard, Ric and I captured some great footage. 

Now the real work (editing) begins.  Stay tuned...

Tip-up Walleyes

My wife and I finally had the opportunity to get out for some walleye on the hard water.  We were quick to take advantage.  They wanted nothing to do with jigs that night, it was all a tip-up bite. 

Here's the vid.

Pluggin' for Steelhead

Several days ago I had the opportunity to fish with a couple of the most hardcore steelheaders that I've ever known.  The Heller brothers take steelhead fishing to a whole new level.  They're good, and very intense.

For a change of pace we decided to pull some plugs in the lower river.  With the recent thaw and rain, the river was up roughly 25%.  This proved to be just enough excess water to shake things up, and reignite the fishing.

Watching these two interact with their witty banter provided more than enough entertainment for the day.  The multiple, savage strikes that ensued by pulling plugs was just an added bonus.  With so much going on in the boat, I decided it was best to simply sit back and film while letting the experts go to work.

To shoot this, I utilized 3 cameras.  A fixed GoPro on the dash, a "mobile" GoPro on a homemade pole mount, and a Panasonic handheld camera.  I basically used the dashcam as a fulltime, always on camera.  I'd then intersperse the others after we'd hook up with a fish.

Be sure to watch this in HD on full screen mode.  It's much more entertaining that way.

Bucks of 2011

These are a few of the better bucks I was able to capture on camera throughout 2011.  Unfortunately, none of which I ever laid eyes on in person. 

To the best of my knowledge, most survived the hunting season.  I'm anxious to see if I can get some pictures of these same bachelors next summer.  With any luck, I'll finally get a crack at one of them next fall.

January Slab Hunt

Winter Chrome 2012

Nite Bite Crappies

Last of 2011

On my way home today I decided it was probably time to pull the last of my trail cameras from the woods.  There were some pretty interesting shots to be seen.

See if you can spot the buck in this next shot... He's a good one too.  Unfortunately this was the only picture I've seen of him all year.

First Ice 2012

This has been the best fall/winter on the river that I can recall in recent memory.  The wet fall of 2011 has produced some beautiful chrome bullets on the end of my line in the river, as well as on the lake.  It really has been superb.

The mild, arguably warm fall has now given way to winter.  Much to my suprise, it's been a mild winter so far.  Unlike last year's never ending blizzard that lasted from November through most of April.  

Winter is by far my least favorite time of year.  With that said, there are some activities that I do enjoy during this season that help to pass the time.  Painting and tying jigs, steelhead fishing in the rivers, downhill skiing, and of course ice fishing.

Several weeks ago we had established enough ice to safely fish.  So I made my way to a lake 40 miles north of here that's known to give up some good numbers of slab crappies. 

I wasn't disappointed with the results!  Check it out.

December Dime

Christmas Chrome

Smoked Salmon Dip

This is the worlds greatest smoked salmon dip.  Seriously.  I had a few requests for the recipe over the holidays, so here it is.


Ingredients

• 12 ounces of chopped smoked salmon
• 8 ounces of cream cheese, warmed
• 1 cup of sour cream
• 1 cup of mayo
• 1 T hot sauce
• 2 cloves garlic, chopped
• 1 bunch of green onion, finely chopped

Directions

1. Warm cream cheese, until slightly runny in microwave
2. Mix cream cheese with chopped salmon
3. Stir in hot sauce, sour cream, and mayo
4. Add onions and garlic
5. Stir well
6. Cover and refrigerate for at least several hours
7. Serve with crackers, tortilla chips, french bread, pretzel rods, or your favorite dip-delivery implement!

Great Lakes Steelhead

Mint Anyone?

I hate those cheap flimsy plastic containers that wax worms and spikes are sold in.  They're just not durable enough to withstand a trip afield, and I usually end up with sawdust all over my gear. 

Here's my solution.

Centerpin Steelhead

Ice Cold Steel

Frosty Morning

A couple pix from my latest card pull that I thought were kinda cool. 

Float Fishing in HD

This was my first attempt using my new Gopro Hero2.  The footage was shot last Thursday when I made a quick stop at the river.  I think it turned out pretty well. 

November Steelhead

Measuring Success

It's been 54 days since the whitetail deer season opened here in Michigan.  For the bulk of that time I've been perched in trees and in ground blinds, waiting and watching...

Deer hunting can be extremely boring.  Anyone that tells you otherwise is lying to you.  Hours on end counting trees and birds is really what deer hunting boils down to.  A test of endurance. 

So why do I continue to venture afield toting a bow or rifle if it's so damned boring?  Simple.  The excitement of taking my chosen animal far outweighs the boredom.

As I've addressed in previous posts, my 2011 deer pursuit has been a real challenge.  Earlier in the fall during the bow season, I shot a buck that I was sure I made a lethal shot on.  I didn't know it at the time, but my arrow had lodged in his front shoulder and not penetrated into his heart or lungs.  I never touched a vital organ. 

After tracking him for hours on end, the blood trail turned cold.

For the first time, I'd wounded a deer.  It was devastating for me.  Not getting my buck wasn't what bothered me.  It was that I'd wounded an animal and didn't finish the job.  I was absolutely sick.

As the season progressed, I'd seen a few more bucks well within my range with a bow as well as my trusty rifle.  But nothing I was willing to put a tag on.

Let me back up for a moment.  For the first time in my life, I'd prepared for this 2011 deer season months in advance.  Starting in March I began to scout new locations for stands.  I trimmed trees, and hung treestands.  I planted food plots.  I put out trail cameras throughout the spring and summer to take a census of my properties.  I moved the cameras to new locations in the fall to best interpret the deer's changing movements.

As of yesterday, I was 53 days into the season... buck-less.

I decided it was time to change it up.  I needed to make a move to some new ground. 

A fresh, unexplored piece of state land did the trick.

I loaded my pack with enough food and gear to spend a day afield.  I didn't yet know where, I just knew what I needed to do.

I hiked back several miles where I came upon an area that the natural topography made a funnel of sorts.  Several fingers converged into one basin along a swamp edge.  There were a half dozen very well used trails in the area, as well as numerous rubs and scrapes.
 
This was the spot I'd been hoping to find.  I climbed atop a suitable ridge and sat myself down against a massive maple, settling in for an all day vigil. 

I'd no sooner got myself set up when I scanned the far swamp edge to discover several does emerging.

I now had little doubt I was onto something.  It didn't take long, and a buck followed the does out.  "Here we go" I thought to myself as I eased up my bino's to get a better look.

He was out about 200 yards.  I was elevated well above him so I was basically looking out through the tops of the small trees below.  There was no way I could fit a bullet through.  I'd just have to be patient.

20 minutes pass, and the buck eventually wanders out of sight.  I pull out my bleat can, and let out a few seductive yelps.  This did the trick.  The buck comes charging over the far ridgetop searching for his new found love.

This time I've got a clear shot, and I took it.  My bullet found its way across the steep ravine and punched through the buck standing atop the far ridge.  One of my longest shots in to date.

At first I wasn't sure of the hit I'd made on him.  I slowly collected my gear and hiked down to where the buck ran to the bottom and bound away.  Sure enough, I discovered a few spots of blood, but not a lot. 

My heart sank.  "Not again..." I thought. 

I searched 2 different fingers before I finally discovered the correct route the buck took in his final moments.  I glanced further up the hillside where I discovered he laid amongst the pine needles in the early morning light.

For me, success in the deer woods isn't measured by points or inches.  It's measured by a sense of accomplishment, and this buck certainly fit the bill.  My in-season scouting/hunting mission had paid off. 

My buck is obviously not huge, but I'm hugely proud nonetheless.

Shifting Gears

My deer season has been terrible.  I've passed on a handful of small bucks.  Very few opportunities at shooters in many hours afield makes for one cranky hunter. 

Especially when I have hundreds of trail camera pictures of my hit list bucks from earlier in the year.  It seems they have just disappeared into thin air.  To say I'm confused is a serious understatement.

My mind has begun to wander to grand visions of chrome.  River chrome.  It won't be long until I make the annual exchange of my centerfire for my centerpin. 

I've missed the river.

Things are looking good for my favorite hobby of winter.  It's been a wet fall, and the river has had a nice push of fish.  I can't wait.

In fact, the river is falling fast.  It might be time to toss my waders into the truck... hmm.