After inundating the Chicago Tribune with dozens of emails, they sent out the following response:
Dr. Larson: I would like to know where you read that the Tribune has discontinued its outdoors coverage. We have not. We are revamping it with the inetntion of making it more complete, accessible and useful. The process takes time, but we're very serious about doing it right, and we hope to develop a product the late, great John Husar would be proud of.
Thanks for your concern.
Best regards.
Dan McGrath
Chicago Tribune sports
Now, we'll just have to be a watchdog and see if this is not corporate speak, and that they do intend to honor the memory of John Husar (who died from a brain tumor far too early), Dixie Carroll and others. If they don't, rest assured you will hear from me and they will hear from us.
Way to go people. Putting pressure on organizations like this shows the world the power that outdoorsmen have in shaping our future.
--Dr. Todd
Thursday, October 18, 2007
BREAKING NEWS: Fisherman! Your Help is Needed!
Fisherman! Your Help is Needed!
Long-time collector Dan Basore forwarded me a disturbing email that prompted me to put aside what I was working on and pen this special blog. It was with shock, frustration, and growing anger that I read that The Chicago Tribune has discontinued its twice-weekly Outdoors recreation coverage.
This decision is angering (and inexplicable) for any number of reasons. Traditionally, The Tribune has had a long history of great outdoor writers, from John Husar to Tom MacNally to Bob Becker to Larry St. John to Dixie Carroll. It has been a leader in alerting people to the outdoor pursuits available in the Greater Chicago area, as well as the surrounding vacation lands of Indiana and Wisconsin.
As Basore pointed out in his letter, 87 million Americans pursued outdoor sports last year. It is a multi-billion dollar industry, and I would surmise the Chicago region has a higher percentage of outdoor enthusiasts than many others. The decision to discontinue outdoor coverage is bizarre and indefensible in an internet era where thousands--if not millions--of readers go to the The Tribune to learn about the available vacation resources for the region. I know I regularly checked the Tribune web site for its outdoor coverage, and am one of those readers who frequents sponsors of such newspapers that cover the material I read. No longer. I will rarely, if ever, have much reason to visit The Tribune's web site anymore.
So how does this effect the non-Chicago fisherman and outdoorsman? As a flagship newspaper in the nation, The Tribune is one of the media leaders, and where they go others will follow. The ramifications of this decision may very well prompt your local paper to reconsider its own outdoor coverage, to the detriment of local outsdoorsmen and women everywhere.
What to do? Dan has forwarded me the following contact information. I am asking every reader of this blog to take two minutes out of your day and contact the following Tribune people by email or letter to express your displeasure over this terrible decision. You may very well be saving your own local outdoor writer in the process.
Ann Marie Lipinski, Editor - ctc-editor@tribune.com
James Warren - Managing Editor - JCWarren@tribune.com
Dan McGrath - Associate Editor Sports - DMcGrath@tribune.com
Chicago Tribune
435 N. Michigan Ave.
Chicago, IL 60611-4041
-- Dr. Todd
Long-time collector Dan Basore forwarded me a disturbing email that prompted me to put aside what I was working on and pen this special blog. It was with shock, frustration, and growing anger that I read that The Chicago Tribune has discontinued its twice-weekly Outdoors recreation coverage.
This decision is angering (and inexplicable) for any number of reasons. Traditionally, The Tribune has had a long history of great outdoor writers, from John Husar to Tom MacNally to Bob Becker to Larry St. John to Dixie Carroll. It has been a leader in alerting people to the outdoor pursuits available in the Greater Chicago area, as well as the surrounding vacation lands of Indiana and Wisconsin.
As Basore pointed out in his letter, 87 million Americans pursued outdoor sports last year. It is a multi-billion dollar industry, and I would surmise the Chicago region has a higher percentage of outdoor enthusiasts than many others. The decision to discontinue outdoor coverage is bizarre and indefensible in an internet era where thousands--if not millions--of readers go to the The Tribune to learn about the available vacation resources for the region. I know I regularly checked the Tribune web site for its outdoor coverage, and am one of those readers who frequents sponsors of such newspapers that cover the material I read. No longer. I will rarely, if ever, have much reason to visit The Tribune's web site anymore.
So how does this effect the non-Chicago fisherman and outdoorsman? As a flagship newspaper in the nation, The Tribune is one of the media leaders, and where they go others will follow. The ramifications of this decision may very well prompt your local paper to reconsider its own outdoor coverage, to the detriment of local outsdoorsmen and women everywhere.
What to do? Dan has forwarded me the following contact information. I am asking every reader of this blog to take two minutes out of your day and contact the following Tribune people by email or letter to express your displeasure over this terrible decision. You may very well be saving your own local outdoor writer in the process.
Ann Marie Lipinski, Editor - ctc-editor@tribune.com
James Warren - Managing Editor - JCWarren@tribune.com
Dan McGrath - Associate Editor Sports - DMcGrath@tribune.com
Chicago Tribune
435 N. Michigan Ave.
Chicago, IL 60611-4041
-- Dr. Todd
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Voices from the Past: M.D. Brine
We are waxing poetic here at Fishing for History. Here is a nice one from an 1880s Harper's Weekly.
Beneath the quivering arch of leaves
Where sunlight flickered through,
While birds sang merry songs of love,
Each to its mate so true,
Where just below the mossy bank
The laughing stream flowed by,
We came, with fishing line and rod,
My blue-eyed May and I.
Oh, how her merry laugh rang out,
Startling the birds above!
And I forgot the shining fish
While whispering words of love.
And how the sunlight, falling through
The tangled web of green,
Came trembling down to crown her head—
My blue-eyed May, my queen!
Ah! years have passed since then, and she
Hath with them passed away;
But nature smiles no whit the less
For troubled hearts each day!
The leaves, the birds, the bank, the brook,
Their missions still fulfill;
But memory only cheers my heart,
And keeps me happy still.
-- Dr. Todd
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
A 1000 Year Old Field Find
Many readers know I am fascinated by fish hooks. The older the better has always been my theory when it comes to fish hooks, and recently, Swedish reader Patrik Lönell from Kalmar, Sweden sent me some pictures of a really great old fish hook that he graciously agreed to allow me to share with everyone.
This 1000-year old fish hook is approximately 4" long, and is made of hand forged iron. Patrik found it on the island of Öland in the Baltic Sea. Öland is famous for being the summer home of the Swedish royal family, and this narrow island, just four miles off the country's east coast, has been used by seafaring Swedes since the dawn of the iron age (Eketorp fort was excavated there in the 1960s and dates back to 400 a.d.). Today it is a popular tourist destination.
Like all early hooks (Patrik dates this to approximately 1000 a.d.), this would have been hand forged by a blacksmith, an arduous process basically unchanged from the time of the Romans up until the Kirby hook revolution of the early modern period. This is a large hook with a built-in swivel (an unusual addition) and would have been used with a hand-line for large cod and other fish. As Patrik declared, "Imagine a smith producing this hook with his bare hands!"
For most of us, a 100-year old fishing lure is ancient. But piscatorial artifacts such as this are so much older than what we normally come across that I think we have to reflect on just how rare such items actually are. Most reside in museums, and if you're lucky enough to own an Iron Age hook or a Native American fishing item, you are lucky indeed. Collecting early fishing artifacts is a frustrating and rewarding pursuit, but there is nothing like the thrill of finding a piece in the wild. My thanks to Mr. Lönell for sharing his field find with us!
-- Dr. Todd
Monday, October 15, 2007
News of the Week, 15 October 2007
The insanity of shark fishing from a kayak...a profile of Lew Childre...a monster goldfish on the loose...the reinvention of fly fishing...angler lands a 900 pound shark...a Duluth plumber invents a new trolling rig...35 years after the Clean Water Act our water still isn't clean...the overlooked Chum...it must be THE NEWS OF THE WEEK!
London's Daily Mail reports on insane fishermen who catch sharks from their kayaks. I'd actually prefer gator fishing.
The Carolina Antique Tackle Collector's Club gets some love from The News & Observer.
From the You Can't Buy That Kind of Good Press File: Consumerist on-line illustrates how Quantum Fishing gains a lifelong customer with its repair policy.
An inspirational story about a young angler who hauls in a very large fish.
The Fort Wayne Journal Gazette reports that a Stewart Gordon is reinventing fly fishing. Most people thought there was nothing wrong with it in the first place...
The NFLCC Gets good press again from Dallas' Ray Sasser. Could someone please get this guy a complimentary NFLCC and ORCA membership???
Angler lands monster 844.4 pound Mako shark, has nightmares for weeks after.
From the Obvious File: The Annapolis Capital declares small baits are the key to success.
Duluth Plumber invents new tackle gadget for trolling.
BREAKING NEWS: The Beetle Spin still catches fish.
U.S. Fly Fishing Team ready to "tackle" the world. I just now got that. By "tackle" the author meant "take on." You see, its a clever play on words; tackle meaning both fishing tackle and taking on at the same time. How witty!
Burnham-on-Sea opines on a new tackle shop.
The Fayetteville Observer tells us to Cast our Worries Away. And by "cast" they mean...oh never mind.
Sport Fishing tells us about an all-lady fishing tournament in Islamorado.
Next week is the 35th anniversary of the 1972 Clean Water Act. Problem is, our water is still polluted.
Penn Fishing Tackle is promoting the Angler's Legacy Pledge. It is a MUCH better idea than the ill-fated Penn Fishing Bikini Team:
The Courier Post alerts us to the alarming fact that Striped Bass are breaking their curfew. They are the nogoodniks of the fish world.
Sega Bass Fishing for the Wii gives slacker youth the ability to fish without leaving their parent's basements. There's an even cooler game than Sega's version, its called FISHING. You do it outdoors. On water.
In the largest treaty of alliance since the Nazi-Soviet Non-Aggression Pact, Rapala inks alliance with Shimano.
The Atmore Advantage writes on Lew Childre, famed reel maker.
Hayward Musky tournament anglers catch and release 76 muskies over 34 inches. In other news, Dr. Todd now knows why he didn't catch any musky.
Wife's dislike of fishing creates office filled with mounted fish.
The Contra Costa Times reports that Franklin D. Roosevelt liked to fish.
The Olympian chastises us for being prejudiced against the mighty chum.
The Hampton Pilot tells us how tournaments open the eyes of the world to fishing.
OBLIGATORY LADY ANGLER ARTICLE/TRITE PHRASE OF THE WEEK: Luring ladies to fish.
A monster goldfish lurks in a Washington County lake, and was caught-and-released. Uhm, lady, how do I say this politely...THAT'S AN INVASIVE SPECIES
Competitive bass fishing...as a high school sport?
The Antique Outboard Motor Club is putting on a show.
The Pensacola News tells it is flat fish time. And no, they're not talking about Charlie Helin's lure.
And to leave on a high note, The Benton County Daily Record preaches the merits of taking a child fishing.
-- Dr. Todd
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Postscript: All Good Things Come to an End
Postscript: All Good Things Must Come to an End
As I left Wisconsin on Saturday morning for the long trip home, it was 29 degrees outside. The heater in the cabin brought the temperature up to a balmy 58 degrees, which made for a very cold night sleeping.
Fall fishing in the north woods is an incredible experience, but this year, I was witness to one of the more amazing meteorological experiences. I have written several times on how low the water had become in Northern Wisconsin. My first day there, the water was so low the beach had reached epic proportions, as evidenced by this photograph (and yes, we actually went swimming).
Notice the water level
Now check out a photograph from a day later:
Notice the water level
Here is another example, this time of the point at our cabin.
Before
This is the point just 24 hours later:
After
What made such dramatic changes? Try about eight inches of rain in around four hours. I have not seen such incredible torrential rains in years, and it not only raised the water level of an 875 acre lake by four full inches (an inch an hour!) but sank the boat. I spent the afternoon bailing the boat, cleaning the engine, etc.
More importantly, the weather changed the fishing pattern dramatically. Instead of hot weather, the temperatures dropped to the mid-40s during the day, much more typical for this time of year. This required three levels of clothes when out on the lake.
Grandpa manning the boat while granddaughter readies to fish
With the freakish warm weather behind us, we settled in to enjoy the incredible sight of late fall in the woods. The winds calmed and the sun shone brightly on the lake, creating breathtaking memories.
The best vista in America
Fishing was good; we switched to pitching deep running crank baits off the edges of weedbeds, with good results. A number of 18-20 inch smallies fell, but unfortunately, no walleyes.
Another typical 18-inch smallmouth, measured, recorded, and released
We found out why the walleyes were scarce when my daughter was cranking in, and her Rebel got gobsmacked right next to the boat by a solid seven pound northern. More interestingly, the fish hit in full view of the boat, and behind it were four other northerns about 6-12 pounds. The daughter did great, as fighing a fish that hits so close to the boat is never easy. Soon the fish was boated and released.
The sun began to set on our fall vacation, but suffice to say it was one for the books. The look on the daughter’s face as the sun receded behind the pines said it all.
I feel sad for those who don’t get to fish with their fathers, or their children. Truly there is nothing in the world like it.
-- Dr. Todd back in Cincinnati, Ohio
As I left Wisconsin on Saturday morning for the long trip home, it was 29 degrees outside. The heater in the cabin brought the temperature up to a balmy 58 degrees, which made for a very cold night sleeping.
Fall fishing in the north woods is an incredible experience, but this year, I was witness to one of the more amazing meteorological experiences. I have written several times on how low the water had become in Northern Wisconsin. My first day there, the water was so low the beach had reached epic proportions, as evidenced by this photograph (and yes, we actually went swimming).
Now check out a photograph from a day later:
Here is another example, this time of the point at our cabin.
This is the point just 24 hours later:
What made such dramatic changes? Try about eight inches of rain in around four hours. I have not seen such incredible torrential rains in years, and it not only raised the water level of an 875 acre lake by four full inches (an inch an hour!) but sank the boat. I spent the afternoon bailing the boat, cleaning the engine, etc.
More importantly, the weather changed the fishing pattern dramatically. Instead of hot weather, the temperatures dropped to the mid-40s during the day, much more typical for this time of year. This required three levels of clothes when out on the lake.
With the freakish warm weather behind us, we settled in to enjoy the incredible sight of late fall in the woods. The winds calmed and the sun shone brightly on the lake, creating breathtaking memories.
Fishing was good; we switched to pitching deep running crank baits off the edges of weedbeds, with good results. A number of 18-20 inch smallies fell, but unfortunately, no walleyes.
We found out why the walleyes were scarce when my daughter was cranking in, and her Rebel got gobsmacked right next to the boat by a solid seven pound northern. More interestingly, the fish hit in full view of the boat, and behind it were four other northerns about 6-12 pounds. The daughter did great, as fighing a fish that hits so close to the boat is never easy. Soon the fish was boated and released.
The sun began to set on our fall vacation, but suffice to say it was one for the books. The look on the daughter’s face as the sun receded behind the pines said it all.
I feel sad for those who don’t get to fish with their fathers, or their children. Truly there is nothing in the world like it.
-- Dr. Todd back in Cincinnati, Ohio
Friday, October 12, 2007
Friday Funhouse
The Friday Funhouse comes to you from frosty Duluth, Minnesota today. This week your favorite fishing blog has been beamed from Hayward, Wisconsin and Bemidji and Duluth, Minnesota, all without interruption. Got to love technology!
This week, as previously mentioned on Joe's Board, is the TV show Jimmy Kimmel Live from an NFLCC member's tackle shop. Not often the NFLCC gets on late night TV!
A very rare reel with a very high opening bid is
this Benjamin Thumezy baitcaster. Will someone bite at this price?
Few people ever made better reels than Talbot, and here is an affordable example of his work.
Bronson Invader reels bring surprisingly high prices.
So do these Montgomery Wards Hawthorne Reels. See any similarities?
Winchester reels are common but Winchester reel boxes are not.
A really nice fly rod is this Hiram Leonard Tournament Bamboo rod.
The Heddon of the week is this Green Crackleback Dummy Double in the Box.
Looks like a bidding war has broken out over this Black Pastel and Gold Rib Spinno-Minnow.
Finally, a nifty combo is this South Bend Bass-Oreno in Red Pagan scale, new in box.
-- Dr. Todd from Duluth, Minnesota
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Wisconsin Fishing, Part II
A Hot Day Turns Into a Hot Night
We rested in the afternoon and filled up on burgers for dinner, and were ready to tackle the big water a second time in the day. The 85 degree day had given way to a 78 degree evening, with over an hour of light still left. The humidity was amazing, making it feel much warmer. We were in light shirts when we should have had on heavy jackets. In an even more bizarre twist, the weather triggered a hatch, and a strange black gnat-like bug swarmed the surface of the water. A hefty Brown Trout came out of the water not ten feet from where I caught an eight pound brown a few years back.
My brother took us to one of his favorite spots. The week before, he landed seven smallmouth in 30 minutes, the smallest of which went 19 inches. We anchored in less than a foot of water and tossed our tube craws out into the drop off, letting them settle before working them slowly up the side. Literally two minutes in, my seven-year old daughter was into a fish. She did her best to stick the hook, and was soon tussling with a big smallmouth.
Setting the hook
Daughter working hard to keep the rod tip up
The daughter fought the fish like a true champion, and it was amazing watching her eyes grow big as the football-sized fish vaulted itself all the way out of the water. Only my poor photography skills kept us from having a truly memorable photograph.
What kind of fish makes a splash like this?
Daughter fights the fish all the way to the boat, where my brother’s expert hands land the great fish. With over 750 18+ inch smallies to his credit in his lifetime, there are few anglers in the world more adept at landing a fish like this.
The daughter smiles for the camera, and why not? How many 7-year olds have boated a 19 inch smallie?
The daughter was positively giddy, and despite losing two extremely large smallmouth in the next ten minutes, continued to plug away. I was fishing the far side of the drop off and catching walleyes, although none of them were of legal size so back they went. Then the daughter hit paydirt a second time.
This one was considerably bigger than the previous one, and once again I almost caught it vaulting out of the water. Damn slow reflective lens on the digital cameras!
A big fish makes a big splash
The daughter does everything right, making her old man proud. Five minutes later, the smallie is in the boat! And at nearly 21 inches it is a magnificent specimen.
A fish to remember
Measuring the fish to ascertain the exact length, as we do with all our catch-and-release bass
Although we catch more fish, this is the pinnacle of the evening. Not many days when you can say that everyone in the boat caught a 20 inch smallmouth bass! The humidity in the air, however, meant something ominous was on the way. How ominous we would not know until we woke up the next morning…
-- Dr. Todd from Northern Minnesota
Tomorrow: God Breaks the Sky
We rested in the afternoon and filled up on burgers for dinner, and were ready to tackle the big water a second time in the day. The 85 degree day had given way to a 78 degree evening, with over an hour of light still left. The humidity was amazing, making it feel much warmer. We were in light shirts when we should have had on heavy jackets. In an even more bizarre twist, the weather triggered a hatch, and a strange black gnat-like bug swarmed the surface of the water. A hefty Brown Trout came out of the water not ten feet from where I caught an eight pound brown a few years back.
My brother took us to one of his favorite spots. The week before, he landed seven smallmouth in 30 minutes, the smallest of which went 19 inches. We anchored in less than a foot of water and tossed our tube craws out into the drop off, letting them settle before working them slowly up the side. Literally two minutes in, my seven-year old daughter was into a fish. She did her best to stick the hook, and was soon tussling with a big smallmouth.
The daughter fought the fish like a true champion, and it was amazing watching her eyes grow big as the football-sized fish vaulted itself all the way out of the water. Only my poor photography skills kept us from having a truly memorable photograph.
Daughter fights the fish all the way to the boat, where my brother’s expert hands land the great fish. With over 750 18+ inch smallies to his credit in his lifetime, there are few anglers in the world more adept at landing a fish like this.
The daughter was positively giddy, and despite losing two extremely large smallmouth in the next ten minutes, continued to plug away. I was fishing the far side of the drop off and catching walleyes, although none of them were of legal size so back they went. Then the daughter hit paydirt a second time.
This one was considerably bigger than the previous one, and once again I almost caught it vaulting out of the water. Damn slow reflective lens on the digital cameras!
The daughter does everything right, making her old man proud. Five minutes later, the smallie is in the boat! And at nearly 21 inches it is a magnificent specimen.
Although we catch more fish, this is the pinnacle of the evening. Not many days when you can say that everyone in the boat caught a 20 inch smallmouth bass! The humidity in the air, however, meant something ominous was on the way. How ominous we would not know until we woke up the next morning…
-- Dr. Todd from Northern Minnesota
Tomorrow: God Breaks the Sky
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
An Average 85 Degree October Wisconsin Day, Part I
Just Your Average 85 Degree October Day, Part I
I don’t know if I believe in Global Warming, or Climate Change, or whatever you want to refer to it. Perhaps I’ve read too much of “Bad” Bob Miller’s writings on ORCA’s Reel Talk. Miller, an exceptional geologist, speaks from actual knowledge instead of off the top of his head, like most people on the subject.
However, I must say that my skepticism was mightily shaken when I awoke on Saturday morning after my conference to a Sand Country already at 70 degrees and climbing. By noon, the temperature was well over 80 degrees, and considering the all-time high temp for that day was around 76, we were truly in record territory.
Just your average 85 degree mid-October day in Northern Wisconsin
With daughter in tow we hit the beaches. Two weeks ago, I noted in The News of the Week that Lake Superior was at an all-time low. This shot of the beach—where a year ago there was no beach—illustrates how low the water is in the Sand Country.
The water was warm enough we actually went swimming
We decided to hit some noon fishing in the north end of the lake, and brought along some Rebels, tube craws, and in my case, a 1950s Creek Chub Jointed Striper Pikie Minnow in Pike Scale. This warrior came out of the tackle box of a dedicated musky fisherman (some day I’ll blog about his tackle box, which I have retained intact), and still has killer action.
We fished vintage Creek Chub pikies for musky and big northern; this was my Jointed Striper Pikie in Pike Scale
With temperatures soaring (and humidity that made it feel like mid-July), a nice wind kicked in to keep us cool. With my brother running the back of the boat and daughter set up in the middle, we were ready for fish.
Marc and daughter pitch tube jigs for bass while I cast the Pikie out the front
Nothing moving on the Striper Pikie, so I switched to tube craws, letting them sink into the weedbed and popping them up in rhythmic motion. Fortune smiled as a tubby Largemouth hit the craw like a freight train and I was on to my first fish of the day. For the record, we released all fish with the exception of walleyes.
Get my first hit of the day—a nifty eighteen inch Largemouth Bass
The daughter was getting anxious, seeing the Old Man land a fish, but her wait was not long. Soon she was on to a fish, but what was it? She set the hook and began cranking as the fish fought back.
Daughter gets a hit! What is it?
Near the boat, we discover it is one of the prize walleyes that make the region so desirable to fishermen. The first of many!
It’s a 2 ¼ pound walleye! The first of many…
With daughter and Marc cranking walleyes out the left side, I pitched a Rebel Fast Trac out the right, and was immediately greeted by the king of fishes: the lordly Smallmouth bass! The smallie smashed the Rebel on a stop-and-go retrieve, and after a quick measurement and photo, went back in the drink to breed more supersmallies. Officially 20 inches, larger than the 19.5 incher I got in June, so the streak of years with a 20+ inch Smallie is officially safe, even from technicalities!
My first 20-inch smallmouth of the day
Meanwhile, in the back of the boat, my brother gets into what he thinks is a big walleye. He soon feels the fish make a very un-walleye like run, and realizes he is into a northern. I am ordered to bring in my line.
Marc nails a four pound northern
I had switched back to the Striper Pikie in hopes of getting a big northern to hit, but was cranking as fast as the Ambassadeur reel could bring in line, when WHAM! Something hits the pikie like a freight train while my brother is fighting his fish. A double! My daughter starts to laugh.
While cranking in the Striper Pikie to get it out of the way of Marc’s fish, this six pound Northern Pike gobsmacked the lure next to the boat
After some due diligence, the water wolf is subdued, and the well built brute is put back in the water to fight another day.
Three hours of fishing has brought us all some great fish. But, as we will discover tomorrow, it was just the beginning of what turned out to be one of the most memorable fishing days in recent memory…
-- Dr. Todd from Snowy Bemidji, Minnesota
Tomorrow: A hot day turns into a hot night…
I don’t know if I believe in Global Warming, or Climate Change, or whatever you want to refer to it. Perhaps I’ve read too much of “Bad” Bob Miller’s writings on ORCA’s Reel Talk. Miller, an exceptional geologist, speaks from actual knowledge instead of off the top of his head, like most people on the subject.
However, I must say that my skepticism was mightily shaken when I awoke on Saturday morning after my conference to a Sand Country already at 70 degrees and climbing. By noon, the temperature was well over 80 degrees, and considering the all-time high temp for that day was around 76, we were truly in record territory.
With daughter in tow we hit the beaches. Two weeks ago, I noted in The News of the Week that Lake Superior was at an all-time low. This shot of the beach—where a year ago there was no beach—illustrates how low the water is in the Sand Country.
We decided to hit some noon fishing in the north end of the lake, and brought along some Rebels, tube craws, and in my case, a 1950s Creek Chub Jointed Striper Pikie Minnow in Pike Scale. This warrior came out of the tackle box of a dedicated musky fisherman (some day I’ll blog about his tackle box, which I have retained intact), and still has killer action.
With temperatures soaring (and humidity that made it feel like mid-July), a nice wind kicked in to keep us cool. With my brother running the back of the boat and daughter set up in the middle, we were ready for fish.
Nothing moving on the Striper Pikie, so I switched to tube craws, letting them sink into the weedbed and popping them up in rhythmic motion. Fortune smiled as a tubby Largemouth hit the craw like a freight train and I was on to my first fish of the day. For the record, we released all fish with the exception of walleyes.
The daughter was getting anxious, seeing the Old Man land a fish, but her wait was not long. Soon she was on to a fish, but what was it? She set the hook and began cranking as the fish fought back.
Near the boat, we discover it is one of the prize walleyes that make the region so desirable to fishermen. The first of many!
With daughter and Marc cranking walleyes out the left side, I pitched a Rebel Fast Trac out the right, and was immediately greeted by the king of fishes: the lordly Smallmouth bass! The smallie smashed the Rebel on a stop-and-go retrieve, and after a quick measurement and photo, went back in the drink to breed more supersmallies. Officially 20 inches, larger than the 19.5 incher I got in June, so the streak of years with a 20+ inch Smallie is officially safe, even from technicalities!
Meanwhile, in the back of the boat, my brother gets into what he thinks is a big walleye. He soon feels the fish make a very un-walleye like run, and realizes he is into a northern. I am ordered to bring in my line.
I had switched back to the Striper Pikie in hopes of getting a big northern to hit, but was cranking as fast as the Ambassadeur reel could bring in line, when WHAM! Something hits the pikie like a freight train while my brother is fighting his fish. A double! My daughter starts to laugh.
After some due diligence, the water wolf is subdued, and the well built brute is put back in the water to fight another day.
Three hours of fishing has brought us all some great fish. But, as we will discover tomorrow, it was just the beginning of what turned out to be one of the most memorable fishing days in recent memory…
-- Dr. Todd from Snowy Bemidji, Minnesota
Tomorrow: A hot day turns into a hot night…
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Voices from the Past: H.H. Thompson
Voices from the Past: H.H. Thompson
This week I was able to schedule a conference over my fall break from the university, and managed to sneak in some fishing in the great sand country of Northern Wisconsin made so famous by the great Aldo Leopold. Fishing the northern waters of course gets one thinking of the King of Waters, the muskellunge. This got me thinking of an article I ran into while doing research on a forthcoming book on W.D. Chapman that concerned the musky. Written by H.H. Thompson, a correspondent for Forest & Stream, it is an early conservationist article decrying the spearing of fish on the famed Indian River, the same flowing waters utilized for years as a source of power for W.D. Chapman of Theresa, New York.
New York, December 28, 1874
I feel sure of a place in your columns for a lamentation I am forced to utter over an unwelcome bit of information picked up during a recent visit to Theresa, Jeff. County, in this State. And I am equally sure of your sympathy, if you have ever had an exciting bout with a large mascalonge (Esox estor) at the end of eighteen feet of line, without a reel, attached to a natural rod of true-tapering, springy hemlock of same length.
"This magnificent fish, which is the finest, largest, and most excellent food of all the pike family, is the boldest, fiercest, and most voracious of fresh-water fish." These are the words of Henry William Herbert, whose drawing, from nature, on wood, in Frank Forester's "Fish and Fishing," is the most correct and life-like picture of the mascalonge ever published.
Indian River rises in our great Northern wilderness, and discharges itself into the St. Lawrence by Black Lake and Oswegatchie River. That portion of the stream—say twenty miles—between the falls at Theresa and Rossie Rapids, and two lovely lakes connected with it, have been the best waters within my knowledge for sport with fish; and would be now, were it not for the illegal spearing, which the prominent sporting residents neglect to suppress.
And here comes in my Jeremiad. I am told that few mascalonge were taken with rod and line last season, and that their number is evidently diminishing, for the disgraceful reason mentioned. Let me beg such men as Rodney Symonds, W.D. Chapman, Joseph Fayel, Charles Fiske, Ambrose Walradt, George E. Yost, and other well known anglers, to exert themselves to prevent the extinction of such murderous practices, in violation of law, of this noble pike, whose gamey and table qualities used to attract so many visitors to Indian River from far and near.
The last named is member elect to our Assembly, and if additional legislation is needed will, I am confident, be able to procure it. He will find a hearty coadjutator in Gen. Richard U. Sherman, of Oneida County, who will be one of the most useful and influential members of the House, and who numbers among his pleasantest fishing experiences a trip, years ago, down Indian River.
-- Dr. Todd
Monday, October 8, 2007
News of the Week, 08 October 2007
10 inches of rain in four hours can’t keep the News of the Week down! This week…a dying man wants to be cremated and made into fish bait for his pals…Shakespeare sponsors Ayn Rand…a classy Floridian kicked off airplane for “master baiter” fishing t-shirt…fishermen with rod envy discover that size does matter…it must be THE NEWS OF THE WEEK!
The British press reports on a terminally ill fisherman who wants to be cremated and have his ashes ground into chum for his fishing pals. Even Keith Richards thinks this is a bizarre idea.
According to The New York Times, New Yorkers apparently can fish. They sure as hell can't play baseball.
Trouble brewing in my neck of the woods as Newsweek reports on idiots with guns terrorizing tourists in Ely, Minnesota. Fortunately they were caught and now stand to spend 30 years rotting in prison.
ORCA's Phil White reports on the ebay auctions of the month while Ben Wright opines on spinning reels in the monthly spinning reel report.
The Ledger reports that boat ramps are a prime target for thieves.
The Louisville Courier-Journal goes fishin' with a fishing guide name Squirrel in West Virginia. You provide the dueling banjos and the pig-squealing noises.
The New York Times declares that Monroe Shakespeare, son of William Shakespeare (the fishing titan, not the bard) is responsible for Ayn Rand's success by paying for ads for her book The Fountainhead. Blame can now be proportionally doled out for the Ayn Rand scourge.
The Manchester Evening News opines on a golf club made by British tackle maker Robert Ramsbottom that sold for $7500 at Sotheby's.
The Nantucket Independent notes that (GASP) some fishing tackle is intended to catch fishermen and not fish. Next Week's Expose: $100,000 sports cars are a mask for men suffering erectile dysfunction during mid-life crisis.
The Decatur Daily News spotlights a father-son fishing duo who caught no fish. Note to Self: Remember to submit stories of my many no-catch fishing trips to local paper.
Ron Schara of the Minneapolis Star-Tribune profiles fisherman and tackle maker Gary Roach, who goes by the name Mr. Walleye. Why not Mr. Roach? Isn't a roach a fish too?
Classy Florida man wearing sexually suggestive fishing shirt entitled "Master Baiter" outraged he was forced to change shirts or be thrown off Southwest Airlines flight. Also wonders why he sleeps alone every night and works the night shift at Target. Click here to see the offensive shirt.
The Boston Museum of Science gets a head up on the competition by enshrining Ted Williams bobber into its collection. And no, bobber is not a euphemism for a cryogenically frozen body part.
Zapata, Texas' Lake Falcon is one of America's best kept bass fishing secrets. Al least it was until this article came out.
DUMB: A fisherman's tackle box is stolen. DUMBER: Its recovered when the three embecile burglars try to pawn the tackle box to the man they stole it from. DUMBEST: The real owner's fishing license was in the top of the tackle box.
Idiot fisherman bludgeons sea lion for stealing his bait from his fishing line. Authorities think recent string of baby seal clubbings will now be solved.
It's official: women do like angling. Seriously. They run stories every week about it. It must be true. I'm not kidding here.
Your weight affects your fishing, at least when it comes to fly rods. Also beer guts.
BREAKING NEWS: The pandemic Angling Bug has officially hit Great Britain. Pfizer promises a cure is in the works.
North Carolina State alumni make and sell Stingsilver lead jig saltwater jigs. Not surprisingly, shipping is a problem.
From the Double Entendre File: John Berry tells us Size Does Matter. Whatever you do, don't read in combination with (in light of the previous article) the rather frighteningly titled Two Inches of Fun!
And finally, lest we become jaded, we bring you the ANGLER OF THE WEEK: Johnnie Jourdan designs and makes fly fishing gear for children.
-- Dr. Todd
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