FLY FISHING IS ADDICTIVE

The tranquility of late summer on a pond is only enhanced by the grace with which my fly line snakes across the water. A couple of false casts and I let the fly settle to the surface. A couple of tugs and the water explodes with a big bluegill sucking in the feather and steel.

Bluegills are pound for pound one the great fighters of the fish world. On a light fly line with the whippy flexibility of a fly rod they are a tremendous fish to hook and fight.

There is no real mystery to this sport once one has the basic tackle lined up. If one speaks the language of fly fishing or can find someone who does he too can enjoy the finesse or casting a light fly or popper and fooling some unsuspecting fish into thinking it is dinner.

Fly fishing can be used on virtually all species of fish. Here in southern Illinois it is used primarily for a largemouth and smallmouth bass, trout, and bluegill and sunfish. It can also be used for other species if one adapts to the situation.

There are four basic areas of tackle to be approached in taking up the sport: the rod, the reel, lines and lures. In addition, it is a good idea to take some instruction or view a couple of the excellent videos available. Check your local tackle shop for the fly-fishing section and ask their advice. With the right equipment and a little practice one can quickly get started.

Fly rods come in different weights and are marked on the rod with numbers from one to 13. They run in lengths form six 2 feet to 9 feet. The longer ones are usually for casting large wind resistant lures with heavier line. Shorter rods are for fishing small streams.

Beginners are probably better off with the middle size of six or seven which are good for bass and bluegill. Beginning anglers are well advised to stick to one that is made of fiberglass rather than some of the other materials that are more expensive. A glass rod will allow one to cast medium size bass bugs as well as small panfish bugs.

Next, one needs a reel to go on the fly rod. The reel has nothing to do with the casting in fly fishing. It is a simple single action line holder. The spool is usually about 3/4 inch wide with a friction built in so that line does not roll off it without some pull by the angler.
The weight of the reel should balance the rod. It should also match the species you plan to catch. For bass and panfish the reel will only help keep the kinks out of the fly line. For the bigger fish, a different reel with drag, etc. will be required.

A quality reel is a lifetime investment that can be passed on to other generations. It is good to purchase the best reel you can afford.

Fly lines are of many types and weights that are matched to the fish the angler is seeking. The best all around line for the beginner is a floating line. It works for bass and bluegill as well as dry flies. Later one can graduate to the floating line with sinking tips, slow sinking and fast sinking lines which are used to put flies at different depths for fish such as northern pike and walleye. Fly lines are tapered toward the leader end and there is only about 30 yards on the average line.

For bass bug casting one uses weight forward line. The extra weight at the forward end of the line helps push bugs or flies. Most good rods will have the size and type of line that is recommended for that particular rod written on them.

At the end of the line is the leader which is usually about six to 7 feet in length. Most are tapered to a small size at the tippet. Knotless tapered leaders are easiest to handle. Tippet strength is marked by an "X" number. 2X or 3X are good numbers.

For lures begin with small bass surface bugs in plastic, cork, or deer hair for topwater panfishing. Little sinking bugs can be used for bluegills. Number 10 or 12 are good sizes in dry, wet or nymph flies. Number 6, 8, or 10 are good for streamers which are supposed to look like minnows to the fish. As for colors, choose black and browns or grays and white.

Beware angler, once you get hooked on fly fishing it becomes apparent that there is more to it than we are able discuss here. This will get you started in the right direction. Be aware also that this is an addictive sport that will soon consume your thoughts 24/7. It also is good for your blood pressure, unless you take your fishing too seriously. Then perhaps you should take up knitting.


Don Gasaway – The Ground Pounder

www.dongasaway.wordpress.com

Read more...

Hunting the Trophy Mushroom

With so much rain, assuming we have warm weather to follow, we could have a prolonged morel mushroom season, especially in northern parts of the Ozarks. And if you find a few, you ought to find a lot of them. Mushrooms fascinate me, maybe because as a kid I never got to hunt Easter eggs out on the farm like the town kids did. 

I didn’t miss it so much. I remember one year grandpa told me he had found the Easter bunny hung in a barbed wire fence and he had spilled his whole sackful of Easter eggs in the creek. So my cousins and I had some hard-boiled eggs he had spray painted, and were just happy to know that the Easter bunny had got loose and recovered and there would always be next year. But you don’t have to have many hard-boiled eggs to be satisfied, and I always did want some chocolate ones. 

I realize now that morels are like chocolate eggs, you can’t wait to eat some of them, but if you gorge yourself on them, you’re liable to get sick. Every year I eat so many mushrooms at the first setting that I get a little bit queasy. I give away a lot of mushrooms, but not until after the first bunch I find have made me a little bit sick. I do the same thing with spring crappie!  And I am sure that if I had all the chocolate I wanted, I would get a little bit sick from eating them. I don’t know… I never did have all the chocolate I wanted. But I did eat a whole chocolate pie once in about ten minutes and it had such an awful effect on me that I think now I probably wouldn’t be able to eat more than half of one at one time.

Morels make a few people sick and you have to remember that. It is because some people just cannot eat any kind of fungus without having a reaction to it. You will hear many people say that the big red mushrooms which look like a morel are poisonous.  They are commonly called ‘beefsteak mushrooms’, and they look like a gigantic morel, sometimes growing to the size of a bushel basket. They are definitely not poison, I have eaten a passel of them. But they will certainly cause a great deal of stomach distress for some people. 

Morels began to grow here on Lightnin’ Ridge this year early in the second week of April, about the tenth or eleventh. I went out and found a couple dozen small ones on the 13th. They were all fairly high on the eastern-facing slope in scattered timber, but down the slope I couldn’t find any, and that is where they usually are the thickest. On the 20th of April, I found four dozen or so popping up down lower on the slope, but up high where I had found those first small ones, there were no new ones. That seems kind of odd to me. The early mushrooms were small, and drying out just a little and the later ones were larger and fresh. But remember that if you find drying morels, if you put them in the water, they will soften up and taste just fine.

The rain began the next day and continues as I write this, threatening to flood the whole Midwest.  I am sure that any mushrooms still out there will last awhile, and a few new ones might grow. I think I can find some more while turkey hunting, if the sun ever shines again, and likely eat enough to get sick of them again.  It is unusual to see a grizzled old outdoorsman like me who is sensitive to too many wild greens or mushrooms or too many fish at one setting. I have never had any trouble eating too much wild turkey, which I hope to do later this month. But I might also point out that while that one chocolate pie was a little bit hard on me, I have been able to eat well over a dozen donuts in only a matter of minutes, and I feel like I could do that any time. All the food groups that I have mentioned in the above paragraph, combined with lots of home-grown tomatoes and blackberry cobbler later in the summer, will perhaps keep you as healthy as I am. You need quite a few watermelons in the summer too, to stay anti-dehydrated.

Before I get off the subject of spring mushrooms, I might add that I have studied mushrooms for many springs, and I once watched a small mushroom that came up fresh one April morning, for three whole days to see if it would grow at all, and it did not. I believe they grow late in the night, perhaps in a matter of hours, and at dawn, they are as large as they are going to get. The little grey ones grow early in the spring, and lack much color, and the larger ones which are a more yellow in color, come up later. The largest one I ever saw was about 15 inches from the base to the tip.  I may someday attempt to establish a wild mushroom record book, in which we can begin a trophy mushroom category, and a scoring system involving girth, height and some other factors. The world can never have enough trophy hunters, and this will help create more of them. There is a lot of money to be made from trophy hunters, and I believe many of them could be sold bags of mushroom seeds at a premium price!

If you want to be a trophy mushroom hunter, you had best do it on the next few warm sunny days we have. If you eat too many and are still a little selfish about giving them to your relatives, remember that you can just fry them, then freeze them when they cool. Then all summer you can thaw them out, heat them in a microwave and get a little bit sick all over again from eating too many mushrooms.

We have decided to have our historic john-boat building day on Saturday, July 9th, at which time we will build two different wooden river boats, one of them an authentic White River johnboat, and the other a Big Piney style johnboat like my grandfather made nearly a century ago. We are not sure where it will be, but we are going to select a place where there is plenty of shade and have a big dinner that day put together by Richard’s Hawgwild Barbecue out of Aurora, Mo. We hope to find and invite other johnboat builders, paddle-makers, wood-carvers and lure makers; in fact anyone who has a trade or craft relating to the 1900’s through the 1950’s, and just have an enjoyable day reflecting on the good ol’ days. I hope we have ladies bringing canned goods and baked goods, some watermelons and homemade ice-cream, musicians (without amplifiers) coming to play old-time instruments, and folks there displaying or selling old lures, carvings, quilts, etc. If you would like to come and bring something, you need to contact me about it. It is all free and you can set up a table and display your work or sell anything that relates to the old days before the 1950’s. The johnboats will be sold to the highest bidder, and sassafras paddles will be sold as well. I will let you know soon where we have decided to have this historic day-long event which may last way into the night. It will be a lot of fun, so keep that weekend open.

See my website, www.larrydablemontoutdoors.blogspot.com, and e-mail me at lightninridge@windstream.net  My address is Box 22, Bolivar, Mo. 65613.

Read more...

TIME TO BOWFISH

Splashing sounds are music to the heart of the bowfisherman. They expose the presence of spawning carp, the primary quarry of the fishing angler.

May is the primary month for most bowfishing. These large buglemouth bass (carp) move up into the shallows to spawn posing a ready target. It is also a great time of the year with the woods coming alive and each sunrise warming the water.

Around Mother's Day, the protruding dorsal fins glisten in the early morning sunlight. We walk along the shore and shoot or move quietly through flooded vegetation in a boat.

As water temperatures reach 60 degrees, carp begin moving to shallow water. As it gets to 62 degrees, spawning begins. Spawning reaches a peak at 65 to 68 degrees. By the time the water temperature is up to 80 degrees, the spawn is over.

The basic tackle is specialized yet inexpensive. Bowfishing kits, containing line, arrow, barbed arrowhead, and bow reel, can be obtained wherever archery tackle is sold. They also contain an instruction sheet for using the equipment. The entire kit is available for a modest amount. The only other thing needed is a bow.

For those who plan to wade, the use of waders is recommended. One can wade without them but the water is cold in the spring. In either case be aware of sharp objects under water that cause injury.

Advanced fishing anglers use tackle that can get a bit more specialized. Although heavy solid fiberglass arrows provide better penetration of the water, fish found on or near the surface, can be taken with aluminum or even wood arrows. Lighter arrows allow us to make longer shots.

Most shots are short. The line attached to the arrow provides all the stabilization needed. Thus most arrows do not have fletching. On longer shots, some sort of fletching is needed to aid stabilization.

A barbed arrowhead is necessary. The barbs keep the fish from coming off the arrow during the time it takes to retrieve it. Barbs can be reversible or with removable heads. Both allow us to remove the head from the fish with a minimum of damage to arrow and fish.

Most of the reels that come with the bowfishing kits are of a hoop design that is bolted or taped to the bow. Some of the more sophisticated types of reels are the spinning reel or the newer "retriever" types that are designed for bowfishing.

Fishing lines are usually braided nylon line. Some of the newer fibers and very heavy monofilament lines are also used. Regardless, it should have a test of at least 70 pounds.

Bowfishing spawning carp is ambush fishing. This allows us to control a number of factors. Among them are bottom make up, the angle of the sun, the effect of wind and cover for concealment. By taking a stand we cause less fish panic and get more shots. By standing still we use less motion decreasing the chances of the fish seeing us.

Carp usually will swim upstream during the spawn into tributaries until their progress is blocked by a dam or similar structure. This concentrates them below dams.

The best bottom material from the fishing archer's point of view is fine soft sand. The sand has the advantage of improving vision. Dark fish are highlighted on the light sand. A bonus is that the soft sand does not hold arrows that miss their mark.

Fish are spooked by shadows cast over the water. Working from ambush we can position ourselves with our face toward the sun. Any shadow will be cast behind us.

Windy water surfaces cause waves and ripples. Carp do not like them and bowfishermen have difficulty seeing the quarry. Fish will concentrate in protected areas where they are also more visible. Polarized sunglasses are helpful in locating fish as they reduce the suns glare off the surface of the water.

Light waves bend as they enter the water making the fish appear closer to the surface than is reality. Archers must aim beneath where submerged fish appear. How far to aim below the fish is a matter that must be learned by trial and error.

Bowfishing the buglemouth bass is entertaining and challenging. It is a simple and inexpensive sport. Why not give it a try next month?

Don Gasaway – The Ground Pounder

www.dongasaway.wordpress.com

Read more...

The Miracle

Mike Dodson with 9 1/2 pound bass he caught at Bull Shoals

He was right in the middle of an honest to goodness miracle in the woods, and I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t been there. Mike Dodson was an honest to goodness outdoorsman who knew well the woods and rivers and the ways of the wild. He and I hunted and fished for everything together, back in the good old days. We hunted and fished for everything, from Arkansas to Ontario and Manitoba. The miles have separated us for the past 20 years, but the memories keep him close.

Just the other day, Mike sent me a picture of a nine and a half pound bass he caught from Bull Shoals lake on a single-spin, and invited me to come down and help him catch some more now that the moon is bright and the bass are hungry. No matter what lake you are fishing now, if you go out while the moon is full and high, and fish until it is sagging low in the west and turning color, you are going to have a better-than-average chance to catch a big bass. But it will be hard to hunt turkeys at first daylight without going to sleep.

Mike and I hunted the wildest of wild turkeys in the Ozark and Ouachita mountains together when I lived in Arkansas. We’d pitch off into steep canyons before sunrise, and cross to another ridgetop just because of one old gobbler. But as I said, that was back in the good old’ days. We aren’t so much too old to do that today, I credit it to being wiser, not older.

In the nineteen-eighties, I did a lot of guiding in Arkansas, taking float-fishermen on Crooked Creek, the War-Eagle and Kings Rivers, guiding some on Bull Shoals Lake as well, and occasionally on the Buffalo. In the spring, I guided turkey hunters in both Arkansas and Missouri, for more than a dozen years.

The miracle I am talking about took place one spring way back there when Mike and I set up a camp deep in the woods for an out-of-state ophthalmologist-surgeon and his father. Neither had ever killed a wild gobbler. The first morning, the older man demonstrated that he likely never would. Mike took him to a spot where two gobblers were sounding off, spent most of the morning there and came back thoroughly dejected.

“The old guy coughs constantly,” he said, “and he can’t hear and he can’t see well enough to kill a turkey if I could get one close. This morning I had one 60 yards away and he started coughing and looking around to try to find it and spooked it. What’s worse is, he can’t hardly walk more than a hundred yards on level ground without resting for a half hour. It is hopeless.”

I told his son what Mike had told me, and he smiled and said he figured there wouldn’t be much chance of his father killing one. He had lived with worsening lung problems from years of smoking, and couldn’t hear or see much. But he wanted to take him on a trip like we were on where they could be together, and have a chance to at least hunt and camp and enjoy the outdoors one more time, together.

We were being paid well, and Mike accepted that. His job was to do his best, and he would do it. The next morning it was a half-hour after sunrise before the old guy could get up and around, and Mike eased him off to a nice wooded ridgetop split by a faint old logging trail, and set him down overlooking a ravine where gobblers were roosting. They sat there for a while, with Mike calling and the old timer coughing, and lo and behold, a gobbler answered well below them on the wooded hillside.

The old guy couldn’t hear it.  Mike decided to try to do the impossible anyway, so he placed the old man up against a big tree and sat down behind him so he could whisper instructions in his ear. As he called, the gobbler came up that steep woodland hillside, gobbling away, getting closer and closer. Just under the rocky edge of the ridgetop, he gobbled so close the leaves on the trees were shaking, and the old guy actually heard it. The excitement of that stilled his coughing, and Mike showed him how to put his shotgun against his shoulder with the barrel on the ground, so that he could help point the gun toward the gobbler if it ever showed itself, and he tried to guess what route the old tom might take to come up over the rock strewn hillside.

It was going to take a miracle, he thought to himself. Mike called again, the tom gobbled and he was right where he needed to be. A bright red head came popping up over a ledge, but the old hunter didn’t see it. The big tom stood there a moment, looking for that hen, then his head went down. When it did, Mike lifted the old timers gun barrel, pointed it to where he thought the gobbler would pop up again, and when that bright red head reappeared, he whispered, ‘shoot’. The shotgun roared and the blast echoed off a distant ridge.

The old man’s son and I were a mile away, but we heard it. We couldn’t know what had happened, but Mike told us later. The gobbler disappeared, and Mike heard it flopping around. The old hunter had never seen it. He thought he had missed. Mike went halfway down the ravine to retrieve the tom, and when he got back with it, he found his aging client sitting against the tree, his mouth open with amazement, his eyes moist with tears of happiness. He could see the gobbler just fine as Mike laid it at his feet. And he was spry enough to do quite a little dance of joy before a coughing fit overcame him.

“It was a miracle!” Mike told me, his eyes bright with happiness. “Nothing but a miracle!”

And I suppose indeed it was. We had a great week camped there. The next day the younger hunter got his gobbler when I called up a pair of them halfway through the morning. Mike and I got a tip at the end of the hunt that was more than I usually got for a whole day of float-fishing. I never heard from the guy again, and I am sure his father has passed away by now. But I am equally sure that he remembers well that week of turkey hunting. I’m sure Mike remembers too… like it was yesterday. It isn’t every spring that you are part of a miracle.

But there are more memories to be made. Old friends can’t be forgotten, and I intend to hunt turkeys this season with Mike Dodson, and fish in the moonlight where I might just miss a strike or two because of a lack of concentration that recalling old stories can cause.

This week, if you are an old-timer, and remember how to grab ‘yeller suckers’, you ought to be able to find some. And if you like to eat mushrooms, it is a good time to be looking for them too. ‘Ain’t spring grand’… as Ozark folks are inclined to say.

See Mike Dodson and his big bass on my website at www.larrydablemontoutdoors.blogspot.com.  Write to me at Box 22, Bolivar, Mo 65613.  Or e-mail me at lightninridge@windstream.net

Read more...

GROUND POUNDING ALONG FRANKLIN CREEK

I first visited this small creek in the late 1990’s with two friends in search of tranquility in fishing. Not known as a great fishing location, Franklin Creek flows through the lovely valleys of a park by the same name. Located in Lee County, Illinois, about one mile northwest of Franklin Grove, Franklin Creek’s low lying areas along the waterway supports a bottomland forest of silver maple and hackberry.

The creek supports as many as 19 species of fish. The most common species are smallmouth bass, carp and creek chub. The flooding of the nearby Rock River aids in the stocking of fish as it backs up into the creek.

Franklin Creek is not a wide body of water and one could cast from one side to the other. Trees such as white oak, red oak, black oak and shagbark hickory line the shoreline. Slippery elm and Kentucky coffee trees are also found in the area. Ravines support an upland forest of sugar maple and basswood as well as a variety of shrubs normally found in more southern areas.

Ground pounders can walk the bank fishing in one deep pool after another. It is an experience of being at one with nature. I managed to entice a creek chub in one pool and a smallmouth in another. Ground pounding is probably just another name for stream walking.

Older literature on angling seems to gear all fishing to angling in streams. I have found it a natural conversion from fishing big rivers to moving up the feeder creeks like Franklin Creek. Fish too move up the creeks in search of safety, food and shelter from the heavy currents of big rivers.

Ground pounding can be a matter of wading to another location for better placement of the lure or moving up and down the shore to find a better spot.

After a heavy rain, or when backwaters are otherwise swollen, wading provides and opportunities to get to fish that have taken advantage of the conditions that allow them to forage back into creeks. The ground pounder is a trail blazer into otherwise unfished areas. There is no telling what one might find back there.

I found this time that the park had changed a lot since my first visit. The creek however remains much unchanged. There was no need for specialized tackle or accessories. Primarily all I needed was my waders. My chest waders worked but hip boots would be more comfortable in the warm days of summer.

I do not wade into water that is deeper than my waist even though my waders go up to my chest. I have a belt that I wear around my waist in case I should topple over in the water. It will slow the flow of water into the waders and allow for time to get up right and out of danger.

Polaroid sunglasses and sun block are always along with me on fishing trips. In addition to protecting my eyes, the glasses aid in spotting fish in the water.

A small tackle box fits in the zippered pocket of my waders and contains enough tackle for a day of ground pounding. If I think I need more tackle, then it is time to break out the fishing vest which has space of tackle, water, a camera and some lunch.

The day’s game plan was simple. From the parking lot, I just waded into the stream and moved down stream. I would normally wade upstream but the waters there were too deep. Wading in streams is an activity of stalking. The fish will relate to certain structures and conditions in the water.

The secret to this type of fishing is to learn the body of water and analyze the shore to see just where the fish might be located. Some of the structure in the water is obvious. Things like downed trees, sandbars, points of land, bends in the creek, undercut banks and large rocks are good to find. Other structure must be learned through practice.

The ground pounder must constantly analyze the water surface, shadows showing depressions or weed growth. Creek bottoms are subject to frequent changes due to flooding. Underwater riffles can be found by casting and bouncing the lure along the bottom. This method is good for breaks in rocks and vegetation in the weed line.

Ground pounding is a challenging way to fish. It takes time, patience and skill. It is interesting to search for a new challenge and to spend a few hours. Franklin Creek has always been that to me. It was good to be back there again.

Don Gasaway - The Ground Pounder
http://www.dongasaway.wordpress.com/

Read more...

Jim Gaston's Eagles....

Jim Gaston, at Gaston’s White River Resort, snapped these spectacular pictures of nesting eagles. Jim is a dedicated photographer, and he gets some great photos. You can see many of them on his website, which is of the same name as his resort. Click on photo to enlarge.

Read more...

Callin’ Gobblers is Easy, But…

Turkey season is here; time to spend three weeks about halfway worn out three-fourths of the time. Get to bed early, let the garden go, learn to take naps in the warm sunlight leaning up against a tree. It is time to become one with nature; time to find mushrooms, look for arrowheads and suffer through occasional shots of adrenalin to your system each time a gobbler sounds off at whatever distance he might be… always either too far or too close. It is time to worry about ticks, marvel at the beauty of a dogs-tooth violet, and dry your damp socks at mid morning on the branch of a redbud tree. It is time to confine your fishing to the afternoon hours, and forget the bills.

I was just a kid when they opened the first turkey season in the Ozarks. Coach Weaver bought a turkey tag, a couple of turkey calls and a camouflaged shirt and went out before class every morning, coming back with stories of ‘almost’ and ‘darned near’. He darned near had one about every morning, it seemed.

In the pool hall back home, I sought the advice of the old timers, the Front Bench Regulars who had hunted gobblers before. Old Bill and my grandpa had killed dozens of wild turkeys when they were young, before so many had died of diseases brought by domestic farm birds, before spring burning, free ranging hogs and land practices began to destroy nests, and over-hunting thinned the flocks.

“Well, I’ll tell you boy…” Ol’ Bill said one April evening as he cut off a plug of tobacco and propped one foot on the edge of the spittoon. “Wild turkeys is easy to get if you don’t care so much about sleepin’!”

I pushed my homework to the side as pool balls clacked together and the screen door slammed. Ol’ Jim came in and plopped down on the front bench beside Jess Wolf and Virgil Halstead. He was Ol’ Bill’s main competition when it came to hunting and fishing stories, and amongst the Front Bench Regulars, the two of them were the most highly regarded outdoorsmen.

“You see in the spring, they get out there roostin’ together, sometimes 20 or 30 to a flock, and at daylight, they fly down and the romancin’ and matin’ commences,” Bill continued. “That old gobbler, he don’t care if you sound like the sweetest hen in the hills, if’n he’s got a half-dozen others right there on the ground beside him what’s treatin’ him like he’s Rudolph Casanova himself!”

I had no idea who Rudolph Casanova was.

“So what you do is, you listen late in the evenin’ when they all flies up to roost. You can hear ‘em a long ways off… whoof, whoof, whoof, here and whoof, whoof, whoof, there.” Bill used his arms to simulate a turkey flying up to roost as he gave the sound affects.

“Then a couple hours or so before dawn, you sneak back out there and rampage around, whacking the trunks of those roost trees like you was a mountain lion climbin’ up after ‘em, and they all fly off panicked an’ confused in the dark, ever which direction. The idea is, you scatter ‘em out to where they is here an’ there, and then you just wrap up in your old coat right there and nap awhile.”

It didn’t sound like what Coach Weaver would have done, but then, he hadn’t killed one yet either. I kept listening, my mouth open, intent on his story, as usual.

“You’ll get woke up by that ol’ gobbler soundin’ off when it’s just gettin’ light, and that’s when you get ready and be shore you’re hid really good, cause an old tom can see better’n a hoot owl with a good set of readin’ glasses.”

“An old gobbler can see a gnat flex his wings a quarter mile away,” Ol’ Jim throwed in. 
Bill glared at him as if to let him know he didn’t need any help, and he went on, “But you don’t go to callin’ him ‘til you hear a ‘whoof-whoof-whoof’ here and a nother’n there. That means them hens is flyin’ down an’ he knows it. But they’re all spread out now an’ he ain’t sure they can find him nor he can find them, so when you start callin’, he comes lookin’.  An’ you’ll hear him a gobblin’ an’ a struttin’ an' a blowin’. Then you’ll see that old red and white head stickin' up in the brush like a flag, and you’ll be shakin’ like a moonshiner at a revival meetin’. But you wait ‘til he gets about 30 yards away, an let him get his head behind a tree, an’ when he comes out you cut down on him an’ it’s all over but the braggin’. Time to go home for biscuits an gravy.”

“Go tell that Coach feller that he can hire me and Ol’ Bill an we’ll help him get a gobbler,” Ol’ Jim said. “Two dollars an hour and breakfast.”

I told Coach Weaver what I had learned, and it put me in good stead with him, but I think everybody got a good grade in Phys. Ed. anyway. I never did try Ol’ Bill’s method, although Grandpa told me it worked awfully good in the old days. It got to where there were so many turkeys in time that it just wasn’t necessary to go to all that effort. We’ve learned that a little later in the season when the hens start to nest and an old gobbler gets to where he comes off the roost lonely and ignored, just a mediocre turkey caller can lure him within range. But once he gets within range, you need to have a little bit of the woodsmanship that Ol’ Bill and my grandpa had. An old gobbler ain’t real smart, but he’s always got one toe on the panic button. Every year it seems I let one or two get away because I forget that!

I still hear Ol’ Bills last words on turkey hunting, many, many years ago, that evening in the pool hall.  “Boy, callin’ gobblers is easy… killin’ gobblers ain’t.”

I have made myself another really good cedar box call, and I am ready. But I have noticed that this spring, there are an awful bunch of turkeys together, not broken up good like they should be. What that means is, you may have to be out there late in the morning to get some old gobbler off to himself. Most hunters leave too early in the day. Ol’ Bill never would have done that!

Want to see some really good eagle photos? Jim Gaston, at Gaston’s White River Resort, has taken some great pictures of nesting eagles that are just spectacular. Jim is a dedicated photographer, and he gets some great photos. You can see many of them on his website, which is of the same name as his resort. I have put a couple of them on my website too. You can see them at www.larrydablemontoutdoors.blogspot.com.  E-mail me at lightninridge@windstream.net or write to me at Box 22, Bolivar, Mo. 65613.  If you have never seen my magazine, The Lightnin’ Ridge Outdoor Journal, we have some sample copies to give away.  Just send five stamps, and we will mail you one.

Read more...

PRIMER ON FLY FISHING TACKLE

Fly fishing can be used on virtually all species of fish. Here in southern Illinois I use for largemouth bass, trout, white bass, redear, crappie, pumpkinseed, bluegill and perch. The following is my feeble attempt to demystify the equipment.

In getting started, there are four basic areas of tackle to be approached: the rod, the reel, lines and lures. In addition, it would be a good idea to take some instruction or view a couple of the excellent videos available on the subject. Check your local tackle shop for the fly fishing section and ask their advice. With the right equipment and a little practice one can quickly get started.

Fly rods come in different weights and are marked on the rod with numbers from 1 to 13. They run in lengths form 6 ½ feet to 9 feet. The longer ones are usually for casting large wind resistant lures with heavier line. Shorter rods are for fishing small streams. Beginners are probably better off with the middle size of 6 or 7 which are good for bass and bluegill. To begin, most anglers are well advised to stick to one hat is made of fiberglass rather than some of the other materials that are more expensive. A glass rod will allow one to cast medium-size bass bugs as well as small panfish flies.

Next one needs a reel to go on the fly rod. The reel has nothing to do with the casting in fly fishing. It is a simple single action line holder. The spool is usually about 3/4 inches wide with a friction built in so that line does not roll off it without some pull by the angler. The weight of the reel should balance the rod. It should also match the species you plan to catch. For bass and panfish the reel will only help keep the kinks out of the fly line. For the bigger fish a different reel with drag will be required. A quality reel is a lifetime investment that can be passed on to other generations. Therefore, it is good to purchase the best reel you can afford.

Modern fly lines are of many types and weights that are matched to the fish the angler is seeking. The best all around line for the beginner is the floating line. It works for bass and bluegill as well as dry flies. Later one can graduate to the floating line with sinking tips, slow sinking and fast sinking lines which are used to put flies at different depths for fish. Fly lines are tapered toward the leader end and there is only about 30 yards on the average line. For bass bug casting one uses weight forward line. The extra weight at the forward end of the line helps push bugs or flies. Most good rods will have the size and type of line that is recommended for that particular rod written on them.

At the end of the line is the leader which is usually about 6 to 7 feet in length. Most are tapered to a small size at the tippet. Knotless tapered leaders are easiest to handle. Tippet strength is marked by an "X" number. 2X or 3X are good numbers.

Finally is the lure. Begin with small bass surface bugs in plastic, cork, or deer hair for topwater panfishing. Little sinking bugs can be used for bluegills. Number 10 or 12 are good sizes in dry, wet or nymph flies. Number 6, 8, or 10 are good for streamers which are supposed to look like minnows to the fish. As for colors, choose black and browns or grays and white.

Once you get hooked on fly fishing you will find that there is more to it than we are able to talk about her. But, this will get your started in the right direction.

DON GASAWAY - THE GROUND POUNDER
http://www.dongasaway.wordpress.com/

Read more...

High Water

The little lake in the center of the Ozarks is bigger right now than it has ever been. Pomme de Terre Lake is small in comparison to some Ozark reservoirs like Bull Shoals, Tablerock and Truman, but it is a rocky, fairly clear lake with some very good fishing, one of the few lakes in the Midwest stocked with muskellunge, known as muskies by fishermen.

Last fall, the Corps of Engineers decided that the spillway had some problems, and they shut down the outflow from Pomme De Terre and contracted out some concrete repair projects which seem to be a little behind. The rains which we have received in recent months have filled the lake to capacity, and it has backed up the Pomme de Terre River like I have never seen it.

Thousands upon thousands of live trees are in the water now, budding out and preparing to green-up in a huge backwater mess. This worries me, because if that water stands on those trees until the end of spring, I am afraid thousands of them will die. That happened on Truman Lake about 20 years ago, simply because the development on Lake of the Ozarks prevented releasing floodwaters from Truman. Millions of trees died, and the great duck hunting the lake afforded ended with that, as all the pin-oaks that were being flooded each fall and giving acorns to incoming waterfowl, died out. It seemed to be the beginning of the end for much of Truman’s watershed where cockleburs have now taken over.

I talked to a Corps ranger recently that I fish with, and he said that it looks as if water will begin to be released on April 7, and if so, Pomme de Terre will soon be back to normal, with no loss of trees in the watershed. I am praying he is right. He should know what he is talking about. Ranger Rich Abdoler, one of my closest friends, is a forestry major who has worked on Truman Lake for 38 years, and he is a very knowledgeable outdoorsman.  He doesn’t believe that any trees will be lost because of the floodwaters now seen on the river and other tributaries to Pomme de Terre.

Truman Lake will receive that huge release of water, and it may ruin fishing on the Pomme de Terre arm of Truman Lake, as the river flowing into it will likely be very high for quite some time. Truman Lake has lots of walleye and white bass, and a good population of hybrids (white bass-striper crosses) which grow to 15 pounds or so. The new flush of water might make it harder for most fishermen to fish the river above Truman, but I believe it might draw some large schools of hybrids after April 7, if fishermen know how go after them. But duck hunters on the Pomme de Terre River died a year ago when they tried to navigate the high, swift waters above Truman Lake, and I hope anyone who tackles it this spring will have the boat to handle the size of it.

It has been a late season for spawning walleye, and white bass, which run up those tributaries, because water temperatures this spring have been colder, longer, than normal. But this past week, we found hundreds of white bass males up small tributaries to several lakes, and they were hungry. But females weren’t to be seen, and the whites weren’t taking topwater lures at all. I expect all that will be changing soon.

White bass are fun to catch on light tackle, but if you use light tackle, you might catch a big walleye while fishing for them, and find it hard to handle. I have said this often, but if you don’t like to eat white bass, it probably is because of the layer of red meat found on whites, stripers and hybrids. Filet the white bass you catch, then put those filets in ice water for just a short time, and the filets will become very firm. Then take your filet knife and skim off the red meat found just under the skin. The white meat you are left with is delicious. I wrote recently that I believe white bass filets are tastier than any others except crappie, walleye, bass, catfish, and bluegill! Ands while that is true, when visitors at my place try white bass filets I have deep-fried, no one complains about the flavor, They are very good.

Several readers have asked me about the letters they received from a group known as the “Appalachian Wildlife Fund”.  Thousands of Missouri hunters got a group of tickets in the mail from that mysterious organization, and yes, they got your address from the Missouri Department of Conservation, after donating $50,000 to the MDC. Assistant Director Tim Ripperger says it was all above the table, that sunshine laws mean that anyone can get your name and address and other information which you give to the department when you buy a fishing license. But years ago, when I tried to get such a list, I was told it would cost us thousands of dollars. He says things have changed since then.

At any rate, the Appalachian Wildlife Fund sent all of us tickets which the letter said might win us about 17 different rifles, and four or five hunting trips, including a moose hunt in Canada, and a “Missouri Bull Elk” tag in Kentucky, where, coincidentally, the MDC is acquiring several hundred elk to stock in a selected area of the Ozarks. To win, you had to return the tickets with $25 for each, and then you were eligible for the drawing.

The whole thing sounded very suspicious to me, so I called the man behind it all, David Ledford, head of the Appalachian Wildlife Fund, who lives in Kentucky.  I hoped to find out who won those rifles and hunting trips. He refused to give me names and addresses, and hung up on me. Who is David Ledford, and is he the only one involved in the “Appalachian Wildlife Fund”?  Were all those prizes awarded to some lucky Missourians, or were the winners pre-determined?  Wouldn’t it seem we could all know that, since our license information was used?

Someone needs to investigate this, perhaps our state’s attorney general, or a news agency. But the MDC seems too powerful to be investigated, and none of us may ever know what happened. I know this; when I give information on my hunting and fishing licenses, which gives my social security number as well, I don’t want that information being given to anyone. But make no mistake about this… the MDC received a 50,000 dollar gift, and David Ledford and the “Appalachian Wildlife Fund” made some big money with the information given them. Not one newspaper or TV station in our state will look into it, because no one investigates the MDC, who gives tons of free info to the media each year to prevent that.

We will see if we can get names and address of license holders from the MDC, in order to send out free Lightnin’ Ridge magazines to everyone. Somehow, I doubt it.

My mailing address is Box 22, Bolivar, Mo. The e-mail address is lightninridge@windstream.net  (no g on the end of lightnin).  My website is www.larrydablemontoutdoors.blogspot.com  

Read more...