Member Login

Date:7/23/2010

The fourth event in the Illini division was on the Ohio River at Golconda and I needed a good finish to stay in the top forty after blanking at the last event at Shelbyville.  I drove down to Golconda on Friday morning for practice which is always an adventure as the deer are thicker than ticks between Vienna and Golconda.  I picked my co-angler up at the marina, loaded his gear in the boat and we were on the road down to Paducah for practice on the Tennessee River.

After a thirty minute drive, we arrived at the ramp to find the Tennessee up and the current low.  This is not good as the fish scatter with the high water and slow current.  Last year, the water was higher, the current fast and the fish were biting.  This day, the fishing was poor and with only one two pound largemouth in two hours of fishing, I decided to put the boat back on the trailer and head for Barkley dam. 

This is the only way to fish in hot weather.  Fish for a couple hours and get back in an air-conditioned truck.  Actually, it’s cheaper to drive the truck than the boat.  We launch the boat again and start fishing immediately.  We fish the riprap all the way to the dam with only one ten inch smallmouth.  I head to the other side and watch as water is pumped out of the lock where the Asian carp are jumping like salmon. We start fishing down the rocks and I lose one around three pounds, but that was it.  Nothing and the current is low here, too.

I head down the river and try another bank and still nothing.  This is not looking good.  I move to a favorite tree which is gnarly, but always has a fish in it, but rarely do you get the fish out of the tree.  Today was my lucky day and the fish swims out of the tree.  The blackest bass I’ve ever caught and a nice one around three and quarter pounds. 

It’s almost noon, so it’s further down the river to a favorite bank.  My co-angler catches a smallmouth – the wrong kind – a drum and then he catches a ten inch smallmouth.  We move up the bank and there are some good current breaks here.  I catch one – another drum and then break a fish off.  The next cast, my lure is snagged in the rocks and as I’m trying to shake it out of the rocks, a one and half pound smallmouth takes the jig out of the rocks.  A couple casts later, I catch a keeper largemouth.  I speed further up the bank and catch a short largemouth, lose a keeper, than miss a couple bites. 

I head back towards the dam and fish logs, since the bigger fish relate to them, but nothing.  I try another rock pile and my co-angler catches a short and misses one.  It’s 1:00 PM, so I try one more bank and nothing.  I call it a day and we head back to Golconda with a side stop at Gander Mountain in Paducah to pick up some ten inch power worms which are great for hot weather.

Decisions – I didn’t find what I was looking for, though the one bank has produced limits in the past and with a stop at the right tree, I could probably catch ten pounds.  Not great, but the pool is tough in the summer.  I decided if there was fog or even the possibility of fog, I’d stay on the pool.  If I had a bad draw, I’d lock.  The tournament director pulled my boat number and I was number forty-three out of seventy-five.  I meet my co-angler and told him; it was a tossup and I’d tell him in the morning what we were doing.

Morning came quickly and I still hadn’t made up my mind.  I went through boat check and tied up to the dock as the sun came up.  I looked toward the west in the direction of the Cumberland and pondered my fate.  To go or not to go.  The clouds seemed to come down over the river from the rain the afternoon before, so my decision was made as it appeared fog was setting down over the Cumberland.  I pulled out two flippin sticks, a crankin pole, a spinnerbait pole, and a shakey head pole for good measure.

They called our boat number and we were off.  The river was up just enough to make the creeks a slow idle.  After what seemed forever, we neared my intended starting spot, but another competitor was on the spot, so idle around him and then around another competitor.  I move further up the creek and after an hour of running and idling, we finally wet a line.

As I make my way around a bend, there is yet another boat in front of us.  “Nothing worse than fishing used shallow water,” I think to myself.  And my co-angler and I watch in disbelief as the anglers in front of us are putting on a clinic and are catching fish after fish and more than enough to win the tournament.  I’m committed or should be.  The creek is narrow and it’s a long way back to someplace else. 

We fish behind them with a couple of short bites for nearly forty-five minutes.  No matter, I need points, so I slow way down and finally a thirteen inch keeper swallows my ten inch power worm.  And it did swallow it, so I cut the line, put the fish in the livewell, and add Rejuvenate.  I tie another power worm on and fifteen minutes later, a three pounder eats it.  The bite slows way down and we watch as the clinic anglers (locals – not in the tournament), sit on one spot and catch a limit.  I ask to go past them and we move further up the creek and they fish back out of the creek.

I take my time fishing painfully slow, waiting for the area they fished to settle down and hope the fish which haven’t been whacked – bite.  In the meantime, we continue up the creek with no bites, so I turn around and move back out the creek.  It’s our turn.  My co-angler and I put the hurt on the fish, too.  We are both fishing big worms and fill out our limits and are culling by 10:30AM.  Thank the Lord.  We start fishing our way out about noon and my co-angler catches another keeper – no help.  The fish have quit biting and time is dwindling, so I start idling to another section of the creek to upgrade.  It’s 1:30PM and weigh-in is at 2:15PM and we have twenty minutes of fishing time left before we head back to weigh-in.  Lo and behold, I pitch my power worm to the one thousandth stump and one eats it with ten minutes to go.  It’s a two and quarter pound keeper which culls out a one and quarter pound keeper.  We fish another ten minutes and my co-angler misses one.  We make our last pitches and it’s off to the races to make weigh-in on time. 

We return to the marina with five minutes to spare and it’s been a good day.  I set my bag on the scales and they weigh eleven pounds, fourteen ounces – good for second, but will it hold up.  Yet after everyone weighs in, I’m still in second and miss first by four ounces.  And my co-angler weighs enough to capture fifth place.

What a day!  My co-angler and I caught nineteen keepers on the day which for the dog days of summer is pretty good.   The keys to success were my familiarity with the water, big worms which are a killer in hot water, and slowing way down along with being mentally able to block the other anglers’ success out of the picture.  And sometimes, a little luck helps, too.  

Never ever give up and good fishing.