Fished hard this weekend. Explored all kinds of new water in Virginia and closer to home. On Friday and Saturday, Jazzi and I took an overloaded Crawdad into several stretches I’ve been eyeballing on the maps. I was able to drag in and out of the mud. Just wasn’t feeling it with the fish. In some very good looking water…the clear skies, and low wind had the fish very inactive. Raised some lazy follows, but it wasn’t until the front moved in that I felt the activity get fierce…the nastier the weather, the better.
Highlights: Friday hooked and lost a FAT mid 40’s fish that chewed through 4 strands of 50lb braid, cutting the tail hook off my fly—luckily the hook snagged back and imbedded into the rest of the fly. Also had a tiny 15” mini muskie grab the 12” fly repeatedly—funny to watch this little guy be so persistant.
Saturday: Found a stretch of river that was so overwhelming with habitat, I did not know where to start. I threw every fly and bait imaginable, but the clear skies and flat water kept me guessing. Later that evening, a front drifted the clouds in. Getting warmer.
Primitive put-in, and takeout:
Evening, moved to a stretch that’s been good before. Raised several follows in last 3 hrs of light. Led a nice 38” fish into an aggressive figure 8, turned it past the trolling motor, and he grabbed and exploded the surface. As I fought him, this Sycamore nearly close-lined me back into the seat---as I stumbled, the fish came off.
Just down the bank, I tied into this acrobatic high 20s “ fish just before dark
The Crescendo.
Saturday night I was beat, worn down, sore. My brother called at 11:30 and said “Let’s go fishing Sunday.” Wind gusts, and heavy rain turning to snow….Let’s go! We worked our way into the rising river and motored to some promising logjams. As I was getting the gear organized I hear a ploosh! I look in disgust as my giant musky net is sinking into the murky water drifing in some heavier current into a 20 ft deep hole. Searched hard, no dice. Darn!
I felt a sense of urgency to fish this rising water as the murkiness rolled in. in the back of my mind I’m thinking…”Yeah, now we’re really gonna need that net.” Yep. Jay launches his SECOND CAST (using my fly with a weight on a spinning rod).
I hear him holler, “WHHooooooooooooooooahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!”
Out of the depths we see this GOLIATH musky head shaking and slashing. The fly pops out. Jay retrieves, and the fish crosses the river in hot pursuit as Jay figure 8’s on both sides of the boat. BAM! This angry fish smokes the fly again. Jay set the hook hard as the fish agressively slashes side to side right next to the boat. Once again the fly pops out.
In the mean time I am retrieiving my flyline on the opposite side, and the same angry fish lunges from underneath the boat, and grabs my fly. A strong strip set on the 12 wt…and I got her.
I’ve never seen a fish so pissed off and persistent in my life. I fought through some strong lunges,and soon had her settled down. With a firm hold on the Boga, Jay was real careful to keep the fish submerged under water until we could find a spot on the bank. This fish was fat! I noticed some sores, and I plucked off a lamprey that was clinging to her belly under the left pectoral fin. I chucked the eel onto the bank and got some photos, before returning this hefty girl back.
We raised 3 more follows as the greenish water muddied up, and the river rose about 2 feet. This was a moment with my brother that will forever be a highlight of our fishing memories. Next, I plan on getting my father on a musky…after his knee heals up.
