Dark And Early

            With the recent heavy rains, the opportunity to fish familiar creeks was simply out of the question.  My friend Justin, who is into such things, was interested in joining me for an adventure on a lake when I suggested a nearby body of water as an alternative.  Rain can affect lakes, but not to the same degree as moving weather.  Plus, we’ve been itching to explore this little lake and its hidden secrets for a few years now.  If you know me, and you know fishing, and you know anything about being a part of watching a day begin, then you know that you don’t want to waste time, and you want to start early.  Justin’s final text to me Saturday night was, “I’ll see you at 5.  Dark and early!”

            As promised, Justin was there at the appointed time.  As promised, I had the necessary gear ready.  We loaded it into my old, green Jeep, tied down the back hatch, and headed North.  As long as we were moving, and had the windows cracked open, the carbon monoxide wouldn’t affect us; the kayaks needed to extend out the back an extra foot or two.  Fortunately we were able to have this extra day over Labor Day weekend to take advantage of the brief reprieve between thunderstorms, and time that was finally available.  We did make a quick stop at a Walmart in Janesville for some Johnsonville brats and a brick of cheese.  We needed those ingredients to add into what we had brought for an “after fishing brunch.”

            We were to the lake about the time that images were becoming visible in the morning light.  As I was backing down to the boat launch, the stillness was interrupted by loud explosions.  At first I thought it was something shifting around in the back of the Jeep, or that I had hit something.  Justin was trying to figure it out too.  Then we saw red flashes out along the far shoreline, the honking of geese, and the white splashes of birds as they ran on the water to try to take flight.  Hmmmm, it was early goose season.  Note to self; stay clear of the decoys and fish the other side of the lake!  We weren’t expecting that.

            Justin and I unloaded the gear, parked the Jeep in the empty lot, and then prepped our fishing poles.  I decided to use a single hooked spinner bait as my lure of choice; number one because it was less likely to snag the many weeds in the lake, and number two because it’s what my cousins use all of the time, and I’ve seen what they can do.

            The sun was just beginning to inch its way over the horizon; peeking up under a blanket of lower stratus clouds.  We worked the lily pads and we worked the drop-off.  Justin also worked on ripping out a few yards of line that wanted to build a bird’s next rather than do what it’s supposed to do.  He was the picture of patience while doing that, and floating out in the middle of the lake, but I’ll admit that I allowed myself to smile when the fish were jumping and surfacing around him while he was momentarily out of commission.

            I managed the “Lakes of the North Trifecta.”  Catching three different species of fish had me pretty pumped and excited.  The first fish was a 15” largemouth bass that hit my lure just as it reached the water following a long cast.  He put on a good fight and brought along a fair amount of weeds that were wound around him as well.  After a picture I returned him to the water.  

Soon after I caught a 21” pike near the drop-off.  I love this species of fish.  They are the personified element of surprise; predatory, sleek, and fast.  Justin took a picture of me holding onto it, but they are so darn slimy, and can explode when you least expect it, that they are difficult to handle.  When you see their teeth, and are sitting low and personal within a kayak on the waters’ surface, you’ll know what I mean.  I slipped him back into the lake nose first without a ripple on the surface, as if I was pitching cordwood into the back of a pickup truck.  

As the action began to subside, I caught a real fighter that both dove and jumped.  It was a 12” smallmouth bass displaying the traits it’s known for.  I snapped a selfie picture and released it back amongst the dinner plate sized lily pads.

            At about that time, Justin and I met back up and decided to attempt our plan that we had had all along.  The lake we were fishing has an inlet creek that feeds into it from another smaller lake.  We decided to bushwhack and portage our way along the creek up into the second lake.  It wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t easy.  We broke down our poles and paddles, and pushed our way along as far as we could; often grabbing tufts of grass to pull ourselves against the current as well.  Once the creek narrowed to non-navigable, we got out and dragged our kayaks.  It was about a 20 minute trek into the lake, but we both decided that it was well worth it.  I decided that because I managed to catch a 16” bucket mouthed bass near an old dock.  The largemouth exploded on the surface as I was lifting my spinner bait out of the water to cast again.  Justin decided that because again, the setting was awesome, we had it to ourselves, and the lake held great potential.

            After circling the smaller lake, we plodded back through the marsh; splashing, heaving, and hauling.  It reminded me of a pond my cousins have taken me to.  You don’t do it unless you’re willing to work hard and beat your body up with little to no guarantee that you’ll catch anything at your destination.  Either way you still have to fight your way back.  It’s at that time that you realize that the journey truly is the reward; if you happen to catch any fish it’s simply the icing on the cupcake. 

THREE VIDEOS YOU CAN CLICK ON TO SEE THE PROCESS!

            We paddled quickly across the first lake, repacked our gear, and prepared our brunch.  We cooked over my classic old Coleman stove.  It tasted heavenly.  

By this time others were already out on the lake fishing; their trucks and trailers parked in the lot.  We decided to rinse off in the lake before we headed back.  There really is no feeling quite like getting up early, spending time paddling and/or fishing on water, and then jumping in to it as a final act of thankfulness.  It’s like a reverent baptism.  And so Justin and I did just that.  It was refreshing!  Saying goodbye to the thing that has provided you the opportunity to get away and relax is just short of a spiritual experience.  But don’t worry little lake; we’ll be back again soon; dark and early.

            See you along The Way…