I Don't Catfish

Tired of simply trying to better yesterday's obscene number of bluegill, red ear, or trout caught, I decided to make this "Crappie Challenge Week". And crappie have-been-a-challenge, this year. Save for a 2-3 week period mid-June when I was smokin' 'em returning to and basically standing in my footprints from the day before.

Strategy-find the smallest lake and by luck, this small lake really has water deeper than 6 feet in only about a 15 yard by 100 yard area. Water boiling, I'm looking for crappie on the bottom. Forgot-probably never going to reach the bottom with that tiny jig due to the coon tail growing this time of year. Even better (for the crappie-not for me). The darkness of coon tail and in deep water makes for water that can be 10 degrees cooler than the surface. And I did verify that crappie were down there. With a strike. That's it. Sixty-five years of fishing teaches you what species strikes, or is on the line, before you ever see it. There are no absolutes in fishing. So I am wrong one of every hundred or so guesses. But all things considered-this "just because the jig by luck tickled the nose of a crappie but we're lethargic because the water is hotter than fish grease" strike...was a crappie.

A few caught or lost bluegill and bass, I began working my way to the car when I saw a sizable dark fish that looked like it was sipping flies off the surface. Check that-probably trying to find oxygen by poking it's nose above the surface. Honestly, it looked like a fish succumbing to the conditions. But especially this time of year, ya cast where you see any sign of life. It was about the fourth cast in the general area where I saw the sizable dark fish on the surface that when I had counted my jig down to about six feet and it was still falling, I felt a strike that sure matches that of a crappie. But in a nano-second the line began swirling like I was somehow stirring a smoothie with fishing line. "That's a catfish."

She was a decent fight on an ultralight rod and 3 lb test line. Of course the only patch of coon tail and fallen tree branch 50 feet either way-were directly in front of me. Important, because a 17 inch channel cat you don't land on a wimpy rod and sewing thread. You train it to eventually come to you. Promising to let it go after photo ops.

A topic for an entirely separate blog, I'll eventually piggy back off a video a Utah fly fisherman made titled, "You're Ruining Fishing by Counting Fish". I'm a fish counter. Not sure it's ever "ruined" a day of fishing. But I wasn't counting fish today. Just wanted "a sign" the crappie were where I think they are. Had that been the only accomplishment, "This wasn't a great day of fishing." But the catfish-a trophy for an ultralight rod, punctuated with a few always fun bluegill-made it a good day of fishing.