Lake Galena Evening

This Story was Originally Posted on Fishin Fanatics.com so the screen names mentioned refer to members at that site. But hopefully I will chase a few of them here as well!

PART I

As those of you who know me realize, in order to write my crazed reports, I need to be amped up on a few pots of coffee. If you notice the times I post, you will realize that I am finishing the first pot by 7-8 am and then starting the second while I get geared up to begin my day. Coffee is a fisherman's best friend! After a few too many cups all of my baits are jerk baits and I begin to twitch uncontrollably.
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I also twitch the baits really well but my attention span is set somewhere around hummingbird! Hard to watch the line when it keeps moving so much. It is later in the afternoon before I level out and can actually fish. As I sit here now specks of light keep shooting around the room and the keyboard is covered with my caffeine induced sweat. Crack heads have nothing on me and the dark brown liquid speed.user posted image

So the Galena adventure:

I have not bass fished the Mighty G since FishingNotCatching forced me out in a torrential rainstorm last month. Last evening it was not raining but there was a wind out of the south west. Derek777 (aka Lord Derek I, Ruler of the Smallies) arrived at my domicile with the Fishing Machine of Ultimate Karama in tow. (For those with an interest Fishing Machine of Ultimate Karama makes a very descriptive acronym). I hear, but do not see, the Smallie Lord heading in my direction, Now you need to understand that this is three O'clock in the afternoon and there is a fairly busy road near my secluded and quiet street. It was not always a busy road, but since I moved out of the city to the "county" it seems like everyone followed. I keep telling my wife that they were following me and she keeps telling me that the reason our street is quiet and secluded is because no one would want to live anywhere near me. I blame my crazed dog. . . .

So I hear the Lord approaching. One would hope that royalty would be announced with a fanfare of trumpets and perhaps accompanied by an official looking escort. Not the Lord of the Smallies, he arrived to a din of blaring horns and squealing tires. He slides around the corner and stops abruptly in front of the house. I greet the Lord with the normal salutation, "Your Highness, what is the plan this evening?" He announces that we are going to catch "striper and walleye" and fish for nothing else. Again, the Lord is delusional, I fished Galena from April on this year, often four to five times a week, and have not caught either species. To be fair, there are both present in the Mighty G, they are just difficult (read that as impossible) to purposely catch in a brief period of time before dark.

Then it hits me, but I hold my silence, both Walleye and Stripers are best caught after dark - God no, he is going to keep me out all night, trapped on the %^^%$#'ing boat in the middle of a cold lake. Good thing that I was wearing only shorts and a tee shirt. I meekly get into the Ford Truck of Fishing Karma and hope for the best. "You remembered the camera, right?" is the next thing I hear. While I used to find this encouraging, anyone who has seen my voluminous illustrated posts realizes that: (1) I always have the fine camera and (2) everyone else I fish with hates my camera because I am taking stupid, pointless and potentially embarrassing photos during every fishing excursion. I know the reason he is asking has nothing to do with encouraging my photo taking; rather he wants to document his fish for the $%^##$& contest!

I inform the Lord that I indeed have the trusty camera in my bag and we proceed to the launch ramp. Arriving at the ramp, I place my two rods and small bag into the Fishing Machine and then set the boat up. The Lord is removing boxes, bags and something that looks like a steamer trunk loaded with fishing tackle and equipment. In these bags and boxes I see gear suitable for everything from Marlin to dry fly fishing for Dolly Madision trout. He then stands and ponders over rod selection, first picking up several bait casting outfits, then putting one back and replacing that with a spinning rod then adding several more spinning rods.

I gently ask, "do you think we will have time to use that many rods?" I am really concerned about retting for dinner and perhaps my dawn coffee! He replies "No worries, plenty of time it will not be dark for hours." I hope this does not mean that he really does not plan to start fishing until it gets dark! I start whining as usual but the Lord ignores me and continues whispering sweet words to each fishing rod. "My precious, my precious" he tells each, "oh yes you will catch me a fine fish and I will win my contest, hmmmm."

PART II

He finally chooses five or six rods that seem extra special that evening and puts them in the boat. He then, finally, backs the boat into the lake and we successfully launch. I wait while he parks the truck and trailer, then watch him slowing walk toward the boat. "Come on, run you $$#@@#!" I yell, "lets go we are burning daylight." Apparently royalty does not take direction from a peasant like me as he completely ignores my shouts and finally makes it almost to the boat. He then says "hold on" and turns around and makes his way back to the truck.

While I am waiting (I think he is kissing the other rods goodbye) I notice that the lake is about 5 feet down. Most of the shoreline is exposed, revealing many things that have snagged my baits over the summer. I poke around a erosion control mat and find two catfish rigs and some of my rusty hooks. I am really searching for Jake's lost X-Rap but someone else must have already recovered that. I poke at the erosion control mat and ponder what sort of sadistic person would put something like that in areas where I fish. At Galena, the erosion control mats are the consistency of a shag carpet with a magnetic charge to attract lures. Interestingly, the more costly the lure, the stronger the pull of the mat. I actually have witnessed custom $20.00 plugs fly out of tackle boxes and then pulled below the water to become hopelessly ensnared in such a mat.

His Lordship finally returns and we launch. Now I already informed you that the wind was out of the NW, so of course you probably figured that we would head - South East. Thankfully, Galena is electric only so we are barely making headway to the fishing grounds. His Lord tells me that we are going to troll and directs that I put on an appropriate trolling bait. Both of my rods are rigged for casting plastics, one T-rigged without weight and one Carolina rigged with a 1/32 bullet weight above the swivel. I throw out the Carolina rigged with jerk bait that appears to run fairly straight and we slowly make our way to the dam area.

We arrive at the dam and I find that we are in about 25-25 feet of water. Now one of the things I love about the plastics that I use is that they have a slow fall rate. This allows the bait to remain in the strike zone for a long period of time and, hopefully, produces more strikes. the downside is that when you fish such a bait from a wind blown boat in deeper water, all that happens is the slow falling bait gets drug around the top five feet of water. To counter this I keep peeling off line but this prevents me from detectly a hit. I imagine a huge bass inhaling and then blowing out my bait several times before realizing that it is not real.

I then "borrow" some jig heads from Lord Derek I, and proceed to snag these in the rocks below. I lose two or three and apologize profusely, telling him that I will replace them. Secretively I hope that this loss of tackle might result in changing his mind about bottom bouncing for walleye and stripers and cause him to start bass fishing! He tells me "no worries, I have got lots of them with us." He opens a second tackle container and shows me what looks like thousands of jig heads and tackle. I am doomed, there is no way that even I could loose that much tackle in one trip. I look around desperately for an erosion control mat!

We mark some fish on the depth finder and I throw a green pumpkin Filthy Fisherman Big Stick Carolina rigged at the rocks by the dam. On the second cast I hook a nice bass:
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We continue with our quest, Lord Derek I, continues to throw various crankbaits and such and I try to quietly bass fish. I keep one rod rigged with a jig head and tube bait and if his Lordships glances my way I quickly pick it up and cast into the rocks remarking loudly, "boy, these walleye just will not bite!" I loose a few more rigs and that seems to satisfy him that I am trying. Derek I picks up his baitcaster and immediately gets a huge birdsnest. I have photographic evidence:
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I catch another bass:
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Lord Derek then theorizes that the reason I am catching the bass is because he is pre-fishing each spot and exciting the fish, causing them to attack my presentation. I tell him that it is because I am better fishermen and receive a royal scow. Darkness is fast approaching and I point this out. Again, another royal scow and a comment that the sun is not going down, it is merely behind a cloud. I examine the sky and find that not only is the sun going down but there are massive thunderheads on the horizon, above the setting sun.

We make our way back to the launch ramp and find several other boaters also pulling out. Lightning and thunder are now all around us, but we get the boat out and secured just before the rain starts. No walleye, but at least I caught some LM bass for a change.

A great big thanks to the guys who decided that they should back their trailer down the ramp next to us. By next to us, I do not mean on the 30 feet of open space to our left, but in the seven feet of ramp space on our right. They manage to squeeze into the space, then realize that there is a concrete curb in the water preventing their trailer from getting into the water. Good job guys!