No Fish, No Problem

How many of you out there have gone out for a day of fishing and not had a single bite all day.  Every cast seems to either get snagged in a tree overhead, caught on underwater structure or the reel gets snaggled (my own word for the various messes that happen with my reel).  For all intents and purposes it should mean a miserable day of fishing.  For me that is almost never the case; this weekend was a great case in point.

This past weekend I invited my nephew to come fishing with me.  As it was a good 30 minute hike I invited him to bring is Australian Shepherd with him knowing he would enjoy the chance to take his dog with him.  Since he was off work Friday as well as Saturday this worked perfectly for him. 

The weather couldn’t have cooperated any better for the middle of February.  We arrived at the parking spot around 9:30 and the temperature was probably in the mid 30’s with a bright sunny sky.  Unlike the warmer months of the year we didn’t worry about getting out to the water at dawn to catch the early bite and we had a nice relaxed hike to the creek side.  Along the way we had an eye out for any game in the woods or fields and watching Kota the Australian Shepherd running hither and thither.  My nephew being essentially a city boy, enjoyed being shown the different game tracks of which we saw plenty – deer, raccoon, and turkey.

It was just cold enough that the trail was crunchy instead of muddy and warm enough to unzip the coat.  The last couple of hundred yards is a pretty steep downhill and I was able to fully appreciate my nephews 5’11” height as he lent me his shoulder to help me with my balance (I have had a bum knee the last few weeks) going down the steeper rockier sections.

The actual fishing was an exercise in frustration as my 8.5’ fly rod was virtually useless with the overhanging trees and brush…next time I go to the creek it will be with an ultralight spinning set-up unless it’s warm enough to wade.  Still, with a little over a week until trout season closes for stocking, we got to walk a good bit of the shoreline and scope out some areas that should hold some fish.

We decided to finish up earlier than we planned and walk back in a leisurely fashion…well, as leisurely as it can be when the first couple of hundred yards is a straight up, lung busting, thigh burning hill.  At this time a few leisurely snowflakes were occasionally falling.  Once we made it to the top of the hill, Kota flushed out some huge turkeys.  One of the turkeys flew up into the tree tops above the trail and Kota was running around trying to find a way to get to it.  It finally flew off and we set off for the car.  We didn’t see any more wildlife but we still had plenty of laughs at Kota’s antics.

Once we arrived down at the car an old man who lives down the lane stopped to ask if we had any luck to which we had to admit no we hadn’t.  I asked him what he liked to use down there and if there were any particular places he could suggest we try.  He was really great with sharing his knowledge and he also shared some stories of his younger days when he would fish the whole section down to the next parking area which would be about 5-6 miles.  With the beauty of the stream and the woods I can easily imagine spending all day fishing this area.

When we finally arrived home for a late lunch we had zero fish but a passel of great pictures and even more importantly memories of a great day spent with together.

From uncertain beginnings...

I've thought about doing a blog for a number of years but who was I to be so conceited as to think I had anything to share with the world at large that would be of interest to those unknown faces out there.


Last year my brother encouraged me to share my experiences of fishing and kayaking.  I considered this for a few days but while I knew I loved kayaking, I wasn't sure if fishing would 'stick'.  After all, I only decided to give the fishing a try when it was suggested to me by my mother when she saw this big, fancy fishing kayak.  I figured the fishing would give that extra excuse to get out in the kayak when the conditions were not conducive to photography or I just plain got tired of paddling the same old lake.  Little did I know that the enjoyment from fishing would take precedence over the joy of kayaking.


I hadn't fished since I was a girl going with my Dad to Kahle Lake during the Bluegill spawn.  What could beat catching my limit and more, culling for only the largest.  Well maybe going to the pond, a mile through the woods, with my big brother and then cooking our catch over an open campfire-half burnt, half raw. 


Somehow those memories faded and as an adult I didn't understand the pleasure, not to mention the stress relief, that fishing can bring.  This changed from the first moment I went to the lake with the old rod and reels and the tackle box that my Uncle Bob gave me.  The amazing thing is it didn't seem to matter that I wasn't catching any fish...I still had a great time.  Each new skill- casting, casting without getting snarls in my reel, tying consistent, strong knots-brought its own reward.  Of course, I really did want to catch an actual fish.  And it was a really long time before I caught anything...like over a month.


Well, I did finally start to catch some fish...about the time the water actually warmed up enough for the fish to come out of their deep winter holes and in closer to the shoreline to start the spawning ritual.  That first bluegill was awesome.  From that time on I didn't come home without a collection of pictures and/or panfish.  Still as I paddled around or fished from shore I saw people catching crappies and even bass.  Not so for me!  Finally, about a week into June, I was fishing standing in the shallows (too windy for kayak fishing) and I hooked into something much stronger than the panfish I had been catching.  I reeled it in and jeez...it was a nice 16" largemouth.  But heck, just one more week and it would have been in season.  It was several more weeks before I started learning what would work in catching these and after that a day didn't pass without a nice catch...sometimes catch and release, sometimes for the dinner table.


Closer to fall my big brother, who had been encouraging me to learn fly fishing, sent me a fly rod and I started to learn some basic skills with it.  Fortunately he sent me some flies and the bass and panfish cooperated in throwing themselves on the hook.  Later I even braved the local trout stream...away from any laughing eyes, and managed to catch a couple of (baby) trout and losing a really nice sized one.  A trip to Texas and some personal lessons from same big brother greatly improved my casting skills and gave me the opportunity to try some of the surprisingly great urban fishing in the Dallas metroplex area.


Now fishing season is over...the lake is frozen over and I'm wishing I had recorded my experiences as they had occurred.  One of the biggest things that struck me was the scarcity of women fishing, much less kayak fishing.  Those that were fishing were there with their husband/boyfriend.  One of my goals with this blog is to hopefully motivate other women to take up the sport of kayak fishing and find out how liberating and enjoyable it is.