The Great Outsmores

The pups woke me early, just before sunrise, on Saturday morning.  This time I couldn’t be any happier.  The predawn glow outside the cabin was amplified by a blanket of fog over the water.  Within minutes I had the boat down off the lift, and Aspen, Layla, and myself were headed for dam to do a little trout fishing.

Visibility was about thirty yards or so on the main body of the lake, and when I got down to dam, there were actually four more boats that would drift in and out of sight in the dense fog. I dropped four lines, one at each corner, with live worms and a peice of corn for color to varying depths of 20 to 40 feet in hopes of finding a big brown cruising the thermocline. I’ve done this a dozen times or so, and its usually hit (in a big way) or miss. An hour and a half went by, and nobody else on the neighboring boats was connecting either. Then the dreaded cell phone, the family was up, and breakfast was needing my attention. Mental note: blogging about fishing beforehand may be the ultimate jinx.

So with the fog burnig off, I cruised back zeroed so far on the day.

I’m not going to lie, I was bummed, so when I got back I tried throwing 3/8 oz. spoon off the swim dock and did a little better.  A pretty good sized yellow perch, kept me from being zeroed on the day:

Over the weekend, we did see one school of yellow herring a hundred yards off stern. They were jumping and flipping, indicating that some bass had them schooled and were feeding. With a pretied blue & white rapala, and a matching soft bait, Jenn & I tossed into the school to no avail. And then it was gone, was it too early in the fall, or was it just not my day?

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