10-07-2013, 09:37 PM
[#0000FF]Out of the 3 or 4 optional venues I had on my list, Deer Creek won out. Bad call. Pretty morning but the fish all slept in...somewhere other than where I was fishing.
Launched at the island ramp about 7ish. Water seemed to be up a few feet from my trip there last month. Now we need more rain and snow to raise it another 30 feet or so.
Air temp was 32 and water temp was 58. That usually produces fog. And it did this morning too. Big time. I had to use the sound of traffic along the highway to work my way towards the island. But you know how fog can distort sound. I found myself going in circles if I didn't really concentrate.
As it got lighter I could vaguely see the lighter spot in the sky where the sun was trying to break through. That helped me find the island...after almost running aground along the east shore below the parking area a couple of times.
Finally got into position where I could see the end of the island well enough for visual reference and started bouncing jigs and watching sonar. Don't think I can remember a trip that had so few fishy marks on the sonar screen...at all depths. Deer Creek Desert. Some excitement though as I backed up onto pods of carp cruising the surface and they exploded within a few feet of me. Woulda turned my hair white if it wasn't already there.
Finally found some mini marks in about 26 feet of water. Got a few bitty bites and managed to drag up a handful of dink perch and a few small smallies. Better than skunk but not by much. It was still super foggy and I drifted out away from being able to see the island through the mist. By my reckoning I was moving out into the channel between the island and the steep banks along the railroad on the other side.
After long minutes of seeing nothing else on sonar and getting no love on my lures I had a sudden and more businesslike munch. I pulled my lone decent perch out of about 30 feet of water. Right at 13 inches. Wish I could have filled a basket with them. But, alas, it was not to be. In spite of working from 25' to 35' for the next couple of hours I caught not another perch. Missed a few light inquiries but no more hookups.
It was clearing up now, and the lake was glassy. I could see a long way in all directions. I had expected to see the trout more active but only saw a scattered few hit the top. I did see some trouty marks on sonar at middepth over the deeper water. But the only connection I made was with a little Finless Freddie that scarfed one of my jigs as I was lifting it from the water. I let him do the dork roll for a minute and then shook him loose without having to handle him.
Once the sun broke through and the fog lifted there were quite a few small boats trolling for troutskis. But neither they nor the bank tanglers seemed to be doing much.
As I worked my way back to the ramp I fondly reminisced of the days of old...when there were perch literally paving the bottom of Deer Creek...at all depths and in all areas...year round. And a typical basket for me usually contained at least a dozen teen inchers...or at least footlongs. That all went away with the smallies. The hordes of small smallies eat the baby perch before they can grow bigger...and so there are not enough of them for the other predators.
I keep fishing it and dreaming of the good ol' days.
But either I am getting older or that long hike up the ramp is getting longer...or both.
[/#0000FF]
[signature]
Launched at the island ramp about 7ish. Water seemed to be up a few feet from my trip there last month. Now we need more rain and snow to raise it another 30 feet or so.
Air temp was 32 and water temp was 58. That usually produces fog. And it did this morning too. Big time. I had to use the sound of traffic along the highway to work my way towards the island. But you know how fog can distort sound. I found myself going in circles if I didn't really concentrate.
As it got lighter I could vaguely see the lighter spot in the sky where the sun was trying to break through. That helped me find the island...after almost running aground along the east shore below the parking area a couple of times.
Finally got into position where I could see the end of the island well enough for visual reference and started bouncing jigs and watching sonar. Don't think I can remember a trip that had so few fishy marks on the sonar screen...at all depths. Deer Creek Desert. Some excitement though as I backed up onto pods of carp cruising the surface and they exploded within a few feet of me. Woulda turned my hair white if it wasn't already there.
Finally found some mini marks in about 26 feet of water. Got a few bitty bites and managed to drag up a handful of dink perch and a few small smallies. Better than skunk but not by much. It was still super foggy and I drifted out away from being able to see the island through the mist. By my reckoning I was moving out into the channel between the island and the steep banks along the railroad on the other side.
After long minutes of seeing nothing else on sonar and getting no love on my lures I had a sudden and more businesslike munch. I pulled my lone decent perch out of about 30 feet of water. Right at 13 inches. Wish I could have filled a basket with them. But, alas, it was not to be. In spite of working from 25' to 35' for the next couple of hours I caught not another perch. Missed a few light inquiries but no more hookups.
It was clearing up now, and the lake was glassy. I could see a long way in all directions. I had expected to see the trout more active but only saw a scattered few hit the top. I did see some trouty marks on sonar at middepth over the deeper water. But the only connection I made was with a little Finless Freddie that scarfed one of my jigs as I was lifting it from the water. I let him do the dork roll for a minute and then shook him loose without having to handle him.
Once the sun broke through and the fog lifted there were quite a few small boats trolling for troutskis. But neither they nor the bank tanglers seemed to be doing much.
As I worked my way back to the ramp I fondly reminisced of the days of old...when there were perch literally paving the bottom of Deer Creek...at all depths and in all areas...year round. And a typical basket for me usually contained at least a dozen teen inchers...or at least footlongs. That all went away with the smallies. The hordes of small smallies eat the baby perch before they can grow bigger...and so there are not enough of them for the other predators.
I keep fishing it and dreaming of the good ol' days.
But either I am getting older or that long hike up the ramp is getting longer...or both.
[/#0000FF]
[signature]
]
ly, I found a good replacement with Utah scones and other deadly home cooking dishes.