OBSERVATIONS FROM MICHIGAN
By: Ray Hansen
This is a great time to head for the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. The lakes are frozen and getting out to the perch, whitefish, walleye, pike, and burbot spots is easy. This year, walleye and pike season extends until March 15.
Ice fishing in relatively balmy temperatures of 20 to 35 degrees is common at this time, as are late season snowfalls that cover some potentially dangerous spots. Keep your eyes open and fish with a friend at all times. Wear a set of ice picks, and carry a length of rope where it is easily accessible. Having said that, as of this writing in late February, the ice I fished on the north end of Little Bay de Noc a couple days ago was still thirty inches thick. Most anglers are still driving trucks out on the ice, but that won’t last too much longer. Think safety first as the season extends into March.
Keep your tackle selection light and portable. A size two Swedish Pimple spoon loaded with spikes (maggots) will catch perch all day. A couple rods, one small box with a few different color spoons, a skimmer, a locator, your bait, and a sled to pull along is just about all you need.
Deer are everywhere, looking for a change from the woody browse that keeps them alive during the winter. I have them in my yard daily, scrounging for tidbits I feed the local turkey flock with.
Logging operations cutting white cedar and other trees attract many whitetails. Deer eat the cedar tips like it is cotton candy. Maple and oak tips, poplar, and some osier dogwood rounded out the feast. Deer eat these things all winter long, but the difference here was that they could get to the tender tips of new, younger branches once the trees are down. Normally, they are restricted to standing on their hind legs and browsing up as high as they can reach during the winter in areas where no cutting takes place. They can’t reach the best browse in this way.
Turkeys flock everywhere. I honestly saw some birds gathered in groups of fifty or more. I watched a neat “parade” of the big birds at my friend Duane Deno’s house in Gladstone, Michigan. Here the turkeys wander the neighborhoods, trotting from one bird feeder to another looking for any spillage. Some people feed them whole kernel corn, and all Duane had to do was rattle some dried corn in a plastic bucket to get them to approach within six feet or so. I have had a flock numbering about sixty birds in my yard in Cornell, Michigan but most days about twenty show up.
Finally, the Escanaba River is still frozen on the mid to upper stretches, and cross-country skiing is possible along the main channel. Traversing this beautiful waterway is like stepping into a “coffee table” style photo book. Each bend and turn presents a new vista, and when I walk along a portion of the river with a lone eagle soaring overhead I realize it doesn’t get much better than this.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Showing posts with label Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Show all posts
Monday, February 23, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
BIG PERCH POTENTIAL IN THE U.P.
BIG PERCH POTENTIAL IN THE U.P.
Premier Upper Peninsula Panfishng
By: Ray Hansen
Lake Gogebic is one of the largest inland bodies of water in the state of Michigan. Running in a north – south orientation, it extends over twenty miles in a long, narrow span of waters that consist of great shoreline related weedbeds, and massive flats in the fifteen to twenty-five foot range. While it holds walleyes, pike, smallmouth bass, and various panfish species, possibilities for big perch pulls anglers from throughout the Midwest. This is one of the few places I know of that can produce mounting-sized perch as large as two pounds on occasion. Its location in the western part of the Upper Peninsula places it in an ice fishing, snowmobiling,and winter sports paradise.
I’ll never say that catching big perch is consistently easy on this body of water, although it can be. A look at the many photos of pot-bellied panfish tacked to the walls of local baitshops will have you sharpening augers and rigging rods.
Since these fish are nomadic, roaming the deeper flats during the winter and vacuuming bloodworms, larva, minnows and small crayfish off bottom, you normally need to move frequently until you locate a school of biters. A portable shanty, especially one pulled behind an ATV, lets you check lots of territory, while running a locator to pinpoint potential hotspots. Most local lodges offer lake access, and state maintained access points at parks are found in several locations. I’ll pass along some website information later in this piece.
Since you are going to “run and gun” for panfish, I recommend a rig that lets you “shoot” a bait down to the deeper flats quickly. Set up a short spinning rod (18” – 24” in length) with a small reel spooled with tough, thin, four pound test monofilament line. Tie on a size two or three “Swedish Pimple” spoon, using the small treble hook it is packaged with. Impale a “wiggler” (mayfly larva) on one hook point, and add two “spikes” (maggots) on each of the remaining hook points.
Using a “combination” bait like this offers a solid advantage: if a perch hits the wiggler but fails to hook up solidly, the wiggler is almost certainly pulled off the hook. With the spikes still there however, you have a “back-up” bait that continues to work for you. Add that to the spoon’s natural attraction and ability to get down to the “strike zone” quickly, and you have a winning combination. You need this kind of advantage while prospecting for perch.
Try the following websites for more information about the Lake Gogebic area: www.uptravel.com; www.lakegogebic.com; and www.upnorthfishing.com. Once this lake locks up solidly with safe ice, winter fishing opportunities can extend through a much longer season that waters found further south. You’ll enjoy the experience!
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Premier Upper Peninsula Panfishng
By: Ray Hansen
Lake Gogebic is one of the largest inland bodies of water in the state of Michigan. Running in a north – south orientation, it extends over twenty miles in a long, narrow span of waters that consist of great shoreline related weedbeds, and massive flats in the fifteen to twenty-five foot range. While it holds walleyes, pike, smallmouth bass, and various panfish species, possibilities for big perch pulls anglers from throughout the Midwest. This is one of the few places I know of that can produce mounting-sized perch as large as two pounds on occasion. Its location in the western part of the Upper Peninsula places it in an ice fishing, snowmobiling,and winter sports paradise.
I’ll never say that catching big perch is consistently easy on this body of water, although it can be. A look at the many photos of pot-bellied panfish tacked to the walls of local baitshops will have you sharpening augers and rigging rods.
Since these fish are nomadic, roaming the deeper flats during the winter and vacuuming bloodworms, larva, minnows and small crayfish off bottom, you normally need to move frequently until you locate a school of biters. A portable shanty, especially one pulled behind an ATV, lets you check lots of territory, while running a locator to pinpoint potential hotspots. Most local lodges offer lake access, and state maintained access points at parks are found in several locations. I’ll pass along some website information later in this piece.
Since you are going to “run and gun” for panfish, I recommend a rig that lets you “shoot” a bait down to the deeper flats quickly. Set up a short spinning rod (18” – 24” in length) with a small reel spooled with tough, thin, four pound test monofilament line. Tie on a size two or three “Swedish Pimple” spoon, using the small treble hook it is packaged with. Impale a “wiggler” (mayfly larva) on one hook point, and add two “spikes” (maggots) on each of the remaining hook points.
Using a “combination” bait like this offers a solid advantage: if a perch hits the wiggler but fails to hook up solidly, the wiggler is almost certainly pulled off the hook. With the spikes still there however, you have a “back-up” bait that continues to work for you. Add that to the spoon’s natural attraction and ability to get down to the “strike zone” quickly, and you have a winning combination. You need this kind of advantage while prospecting for perch.
Try the following websites for more information about the Lake Gogebic area: www.uptravel.com; www.lakegogebic.com; and www.upnorthfishing.com. Once this lake locks up solidly with safe ice, winter fishing opportunities can extend through a much longer season that waters found further south. You’ll enjoy the experience!
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
SOUND OF FORMING ICE
SOUND OF FORMING ICE
By: Ray Hansen
Sounds like one of those conundrums doesn’t it? The sound of forming ice. Like the sound of one hand clapping, or the proverbial tree falling in the forest if no-one is there to hear it. But ice does make a sound when it forms, and I have heard it.
I was hunting deer during the mid-November rifle season on the Stonington Peninsula in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, in a semi-remote part of the Hiawatha National Forest. Temperatures hovered between zero and ten below for three days, under absolute dead calm. This area juts out into Lake Michigan and is surrounded by the big waters on all sides.
Earlier that year I scouted this section of forest, and pulled together some logs, dead pine branches, leaves, sticks, and other debris into several ground blinds where I could sit to take in the silence and watch for deer. I liked being partially concealed – I needed to remain undetected to have any chance against super-sensitive whitetails.
This was a place where a few big, wise bucks used the vast woodland to stay safe. No farm fields concentrated deer anywhere within miles of this spot. Only some logged areas might attract animals, and bucks would be making loops through the woods in search of does during this time of the annual rut. That was just about the only way they would make a mistake, and the only chance I had to see one that offered a clean shot was to park myself in a place they might cross.
So I sat, hour after hour, bundled in multiple layers of cold weather gear. An adult doe and two young deer were hanging around, and I hoped a buck would show to check her out.
Sometime late on the first day, I became aware of a low, constant sort of rumbling sound. I could not pinpoint where it originated from, but that was not unusual in the big woods. I first speculated that it was a county road grader far off in the distance. I thought it might be rolling along the gravel roads on the peninsula at a slow, steady creeping speed to grind down the “washboards” these dirt roads developed over time.
By the second day, I abandoned this theory, because the sound remained constant and I still could not tell which direction it came from. A grader would have moved by this time. The rumbling continued, broken only by the occasional hooting of great horned owls, and the lyric, almost mystical variety of calls created by ravens soaring through the frigid air just above tree-top level.
On the third day, a realization slowly enveloped me: I was hearing the ice form out on the big waters of Lake Michigan. The open water on the bays lay flat calm and exposed to the air with its deadly freezing temperature. Ice crystals formed immediately, and the almost imperceptible swells caused by tiny tides, currents, and other natural water movements cracked, stretched, and splintered the forming skim ice. The sound was that of the fracturing ice crystals amplified by thousands of acres of freezing water surrounding the peninsula I hunted on.
The one - and probably only - set of weather conditions that provided freezing water, combined with a lack of competing sounds, prevailed long enough to allow me to hear and finally identify its source. And to me, it was a chance to witness the sound of The Universe going about its business.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
By: Ray Hansen
Sounds like one of those conundrums doesn’t it? The sound of forming ice. Like the sound of one hand clapping, or the proverbial tree falling in the forest if no-one is there to hear it. But ice does make a sound when it forms, and I have heard it.
I was hunting deer during the mid-November rifle season on the Stonington Peninsula in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, in a semi-remote part of the Hiawatha National Forest. Temperatures hovered between zero and ten below for three days, under absolute dead calm. This area juts out into Lake Michigan and is surrounded by the big waters on all sides.
Earlier that year I scouted this section of forest, and pulled together some logs, dead pine branches, leaves, sticks, and other debris into several ground blinds where I could sit to take in the silence and watch for deer. I liked being partially concealed – I needed to remain undetected to have any chance against super-sensitive whitetails.
This was a place where a few big, wise bucks used the vast woodland to stay safe. No farm fields concentrated deer anywhere within miles of this spot. Only some logged areas might attract animals, and bucks would be making loops through the woods in search of does during this time of the annual rut. That was just about the only way they would make a mistake, and the only chance I had to see one that offered a clean shot was to park myself in a place they might cross.
So I sat, hour after hour, bundled in multiple layers of cold weather gear. An adult doe and two young deer were hanging around, and I hoped a buck would show to check her out.
Sometime late on the first day, I became aware of a low, constant sort of rumbling sound. I could not pinpoint where it originated from, but that was not unusual in the big woods. I first speculated that it was a county road grader far off in the distance. I thought it might be rolling along the gravel roads on the peninsula at a slow, steady creeping speed to grind down the “washboards” these dirt roads developed over time.
By the second day, I abandoned this theory, because the sound remained constant and I still could not tell which direction it came from. A grader would have moved by this time. The rumbling continued, broken only by the occasional hooting of great horned owls, and the lyric, almost mystical variety of calls created by ravens soaring through the frigid air just above tree-top level.
On the third day, a realization slowly enveloped me: I was hearing the ice form out on the big waters of Lake Michigan. The open water on the bays lay flat calm and exposed to the air with its deadly freezing temperature. Ice crystals formed immediately, and the almost imperceptible swells caused by tiny tides, currents, and other natural water movements cracked, stretched, and splintered the forming skim ice. The sound was that of the fracturing ice crystals amplified by thousands of acres of freezing water surrounding the peninsula I hunted on.
The one - and probably only - set of weather conditions that provided freezing water, combined with a lack of competing sounds, prevailed long enough to allow me to hear and finally identify its source. And to me, it was a chance to witness the sound of The Universe going about its business.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
ALBINO BAY DE NOC BURBOT CAUGHT
ALBINO BAY DE NOC BURBOT CAUGHT
By: Ray Hansen
I have mentioned fishing for burbot on Little Bay de Noc in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula several times. This is a time of year when they are commonly caught in northern waters. These primitive fish are also called eelpout, and have a long dorsal fin extending to the tail that can make them look like an eel. Local anglers like them because they eat gobies which threaten to overpopulate the Great Lakes, and because the burbot can be cooked as a dish called “poor man’s lobster”
which I have enjoyed.
In 2007, John Katarincic of Gladstone, Michigan caught an albino burbot from Little Bay de Noc off Kipling, Michigan while fishing for walleyes in 26 feet of water. The bizarrely colored fish measured over 28 inches in length, and was brought to the Escanaba office of the Department of Natural Resources where it was checked by biologist Darren Kramer.
Katarincic said he thought he had hooked a big walleye, but was not disappointed by his unusual catch. Many anglers target these fish during mid-February since they can be very active biters at this time of year, and are attracted to “glow” style lures tipped with minnows.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
By: Ray Hansen
I have mentioned fishing for burbot on Little Bay de Noc in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula several times. This is a time of year when they are commonly caught in northern waters. These primitive fish are also called eelpout, and have a long dorsal fin extending to the tail that can make them look like an eel. Local anglers like them because they eat gobies which threaten to overpopulate the Great Lakes, and because the burbot can be cooked as a dish called “poor man’s lobster”
which I have enjoyed.
In 2007, John Katarincic of Gladstone, Michigan caught an albino burbot from Little Bay de Noc off Kipling, Michigan while fishing for walleyes in 26 feet of water. The bizarrely colored fish measured over 28 inches in length, and was brought to the Escanaba office of the Department of Natural Resources where it was checked by biologist Darren Kramer.
Katarincic said he thought he had hooked a big walleye, but was not disappointed by his unusual catch. Many anglers target these fish during mid-February since they can be very active biters at this time of year, and are attracted to “glow” style lures tipped with minnows.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
FLYING ACROSS THE SNOW
FLYING ACROSS THE SNOW
By: Ray Hansen
We have had a run of brutally cold weather here in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. The ambient temperature was seventeen below zero last Sunday night when I returned from an ice fishing trip here on Little Bay de Noc. This is the kind of weather that firms up the snow base and makes the local snowmobile trails a lot of fun to play on. I don’t do too much trail riding on these machines, but occasionally have the opportunity.
A friend and I had trouble starting his two snowmobiles in the extreme cold temperatures we encountered in Rhinelander, Wisconsin on a recent ice fishing trip. Once the machines warmed enough to idle without us having the keep our thumbs on the throttles, they proved ready to respond and would restart easily if we shut them off.
This trip was to be one in which he and I roamed relatively shallow lakes in search of mid-winter pike and panfish. We did it two years ago with good results, and hoped to enjoy a replay of the excitement from the previous excursion.
To be able to zip from place to place, we used the two Polaris snowmobiles he keeps stored in Wisconsin. These machines are nothing short of amazing. I quickly found that they would go a lot faster than I cared to attempt.
While I am not an experienced snowmobiler, I’ve spent a fair amount of time astride a Harley-Davidson. I have also enjoyed some dirt-biking, and I ride a Honda all terrain vehicle each year while deer hunting. The snow machines however, are really suited to the conditions and a type of terrain no other vehicle can conquer.
At twenty miles an hour, I slowly cruised the frozen lakes and woodland trails connecting various bodies of water. The pace allowed me to see lots of detail, and feel that I was in control of my ride. I saw interesting homes, great looking patches of woods, and other sights that made me appreciate this northwoods experience.
At thirty m.p.h., I felt the jarring of snow clumps, old snowmobile tracks, and old ice fishing holes I blasted across. I could not spend much time sightseeing. Anything I wanted to study closer required that I back off the throttle at least momentarily.
At forty m.p.h., I had to concentrate on strictly on steering the machine, and to watch that no stumps, bumps, or humps launched me airborne. Turns were made gradually, and I had the constant feeling that I was going just about as fast as I could safely travel – as long as I focused solely on controlling the machine and did not steal a glance at any of the surroundings.
Of course, experienced snowmobilers cite times and places where they had reached speeds much higher than I dared to try at my level of competence. Tales of triple-digit speeds left me wondering how it was possible to keep the machine in even occasional contact with the snow at that pace.
I saw just enough of the “snowmobile culture” in Rhinelander to begin to understand its appeal. Some great trail food, magnificent scenery, the opportunity to jump from lake to lake with a little fishing at each, and shutting off the machines at a hill far from town to listen to a coyote chorus from a nearby swamp at night made using the machines unforgettable. I’ll be back.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
By: Ray Hansen
We have had a run of brutally cold weather here in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. The ambient temperature was seventeen below zero last Sunday night when I returned from an ice fishing trip here on Little Bay de Noc. This is the kind of weather that firms up the snow base and makes the local snowmobile trails a lot of fun to play on. I don’t do too much trail riding on these machines, but occasionally have the opportunity.
A friend and I had trouble starting his two snowmobiles in the extreme cold temperatures we encountered in Rhinelander, Wisconsin on a recent ice fishing trip. Once the machines warmed enough to idle without us having the keep our thumbs on the throttles, they proved ready to respond and would restart easily if we shut them off.
This trip was to be one in which he and I roamed relatively shallow lakes in search of mid-winter pike and panfish. We did it two years ago with good results, and hoped to enjoy a replay of the excitement from the previous excursion.
To be able to zip from place to place, we used the two Polaris snowmobiles he keeps stored in Wisconsin. These machines are nothing short of amazing. I quickly found that they would go a lot faster than I cared to attempt.
While I am not an experienced snowmobiler, I’ve spent a fair amount of time astride a Harley-Davidson. I have also enjoyed some dirt-biking, and I ride a Honda all terrain vehicle each year while deer hunting. The snow machines however, are really suited to the conditions and a type of terrain no other vehicle can conquer.
At twenty miles an hour, I slowly cruised the frozen lakes and woodland trails connecting various bodies of water. The pace allowed me to see lots of detail, and feel that I was in control of my ride. I saw interesting homes, great looking patches of woods, and other sights that made me appreciate this northwoods experience.
At thirty m.p.h., I felt the jarring of snow clumps, old snowmobile tracks, and old ice fishing holes I blasted across. I could not spend much time sightseeing. Anything I wanted to study closer required that I back off the throttle at least momentarily.
At forty m.p.h., I had to concentrate on strictly on steering the machine, and to watch that no stumps, bumps, or humps launched me airborne. Turns were made gradually, and I had the constant feeling that I was going just about as fast as I could safely travel – as long as I focused solely on controlling the machine and did not steal a glance at any of the surroundings.
Of course, experienced snowmobilers cite times and places where they had reached speeds much higher than I dared to try at my level of competence. Tales of triple-digit speeds left me wondering how it was possible to keep the machine in even occasional contact with the snow at that pace.
I saw just enough of the “snowmobile culture” in Rhinelander to begin to understand its appeal. Some great trail food, magnificent scenery, the opportunity to jump from lake to lake with a little fishing at each, and shutting off the machines at a hill far from town to listen to a coyote chorus from a nearby swamp at night made using the machines unforgettable. I’ll be back.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
WINTER WONDERS IN THE NORTHWOODS
WINTER WONDERS IN THE NORTHWOODS
By: Ray Hansen
While hunting the Channing / Sagola area of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, I once saw a Fisher lope across an old logging with its odd, sinuous gait. A sleek dark brown to black body about three feet in length (including the long tail) contrasted with its white-streaked head. Strangely, it startled me, like suddenly seeing a snake will do. I was in a tree stand, and it posed no danger. I’m sure if it had been aware I was a round I would never have seen it.
Fishers don’t fish. Their relatives, the more common mink rely on fish for much of their diet, but not these larger creatures. Hunters who watch for deer from elevated tree stands during the fall and winter often notice a sudden decrease in the local red squirrel population. The fisher will stay around until these tasty little treats are all caught, then move on. Don’t worry about the squirrels though. They quickly re-populate.
The fisher is one of the few animals that will take on a porcupine. They are said to take them face on, grabbing the porcupines snout and holding on until they can work their way down to the throat for the kill. You may find the ‘pine’s skin in the woods, feet up, with the edible parts removed from the inside starting at the soft belly, which is not protected by deadly quills. I have found deceased porcupines in this condition, usually in the winter.
Seeing one of these graceful predators while hunting is a rare, but fascinating sight. After a day in the woods, the experience makes a good story to relate around the night’s campfire.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
By: Ray Hansen
While hunting the Channing / Sagola area of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, I once saw a Fisher lope across an old logging with its odd, sinuous gait. A sleek dark brown to black body about three feet in length (including the long tail) contrasted with its white-streaked head. Strangely, it startled me, like suddenly seeing a snake will do. I was in a tree stand, and it posed no danger. I’m sure if it had been aware I was a round I would never have seen it.
Fishers don’t fish. Their relatives, the more common mink rely on fish for much of their diet, but not these larger creatures. Hunters who watch for deer from elevated tree stands during the fall and winter often notice a sudden decrease in the local red squirrel population. The fisher will stay around until these tasty little treats are all caught, then move on. Don’t worry about the squirrels though. They quickly re-populate.
The fisher is one of the few animals that will take on a porcupine. They are said to take them face on, grabbing the porcupines snout and holding on until they can work their way down to the throat for the kill. You may find the ‘pine’s skin in the woods, feet up, with the edible parts removed from the inside starting at the soft belly, which is not protected by deadly quills. I have found deceased porcupines in this condition, usually in the winter.
Seeing one of these graceful predators while hunting is a rare, but fascinating sight. After a day in the woods, the experience makes a good story to relate around the night’s campfire.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
GLOW BAITS GRAB ATTENTION
GLOW BAITS GRAB ATTENTION
Bay de Noc Burbot and Walleye Opportunity
By: Ray Hansen
Burbot or Eelpout are not a fish targeted by many winter anglers, but those who know where and how to catch them rave about their fighting qualities, and the ability to make a dish called “Poor Man’s Lobster” from them.
Little Bay de Noc in Delta County Michigan provides an excellent opportunity to catch these fish through the ice, and action often peaks for a while around mid-February. Chris Wahl, owner of Bay View Sports in Gladstone, Michigan (www.baydenoc.com/bayviewsports) chases these fish each year, and is a wealth of local information about how to proceed.
Chris reports that “glow” baits like the locally produced Swedish Pimple Spoon, the Buckshot Rattle Spoon, Rapala Jigger Shad, and simple live bait rigs with a “glow-stick” attached to the line near the bait (minnows are best) can do the trick. He often works the long drop-offs on the bay near his shop on Highway 2 / 41, concentrating on depths of 25 to 38 feet of water. Night produces the best bite, so you can tailor your ice fishing trips to be on a potentially good walleye spot at the prime bite just before and after sunset, then continue on into the night with the expectation of burbot action.
Incidentally, Chris says that many anglers are somewhat repulsed at the sight of a wriggling burbot on their lines because they look like an eel. He cautions ice fishermen to release them carefully however, because they are “gobie eating machines”. Area anglers have seen the non-native gobies populate the bay over the years, and welcome any fish that will consume them.
Little Bay de Noc is actually the northernmost portion of Lake Michigan, on the Great Lakes. Excellent fishing for northern pike, perch, smallmouth bass, walleye, salmon, trout, and many other species can be found there throughout the year. Check www.baydenoc.com for details about area attractions, lodging, and related information.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Bay de Noc Burbot and Walleye Opportunity
By: Ray Hansen
Burbot or Eelpout are not a fish targeted by many winter anglers, but those who know where and how to catch them rave about their fighting qualities, and the ability to make a dish called “Poor Man’s Lobster” from them.
Little Bay de Noc in Delta County Michigan provides an excellent opportunity to catch these fish through the ice, and action often peaks for a while around mid-February. Chris Wahl, owner of Bay View Sports in Gladstone, Michigan (www.baydenoc.com/bayviewsports) chases these fish each year, and is a wealth of local information about how to proceed.
Chris reports that “glow” baits like the locally produced Swedish Pimple Spoon, the Buckshot Rattle Spoon, Rapala Jigger Shad, and simple live bait rigs with a “glow-stick” attached to the line near the bait (minnows are best) can do the trick. He often works the long drop-offs on the bay near his shop on Highway 2 / 41, concentrating on depths of 25 to 38 feet of water. Night produces the best bite, so you can tailor your ice fishing trips to be on a potentially good walleye spot at the prime bite just before and after sunset, then continue on into the night with the expectation of burbot action.
Incidentally, Chris says that many anglers are somewhat repulsed at the sight of a wriggling burbot on their lines because they look like an eel. He cautions ice fishermen to release them carefully however, because they are “gobie eating machines”. Area anglers have seen the non-native gobies populate the bay over the years, and welcome any fish that will consume them.
Little Bay de Noc is actually the northernmost portion of Lake Michigan, on the Great Lakes. Excellent fishing for northern pike, perch, smallmouth bass, walleye, salmon, trout, and many other species can be found there throughout the year. Check www.baydenoc.com for details about area attractions, lodging, and related information.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
THE DAY THE FISH GOT AWAY - Part three
Author's note: This is the final part of the series I started Monday. I hope you have enjoyed it.
It was one-thirty in the afternoon when we got situated. Within the first half-hour something slammed a rod downward that I had balanced on a bucket while changing baits on another. It hit like a small pike does, slashing past, grabbing the bait like a running thief grabbing an apple off a fruit wagon without stopping. I missed that fish as well, and that’s when we packed it in for the day.
On the way back to the truck, we detoured past an eighty-acre island surrounded by marshlands with plenty of cat-tails and open areas between brushy pockets of cover. An ancient railroad grade crossed the island diagonally like the spine on a razorback hog. I once stalked to within twenty-five yards of two bedded deer on this island while hunting with a bow along the elevated trackway. Thick brush along its sides however, prevented me from getting a clear shot, and the deer soon bounded away.
We found several sets of coyote tracks leading into the interior, so we put together two brush blinds on the perimeter where we could hide while using predator calls and rabbit decoys to try to get the brush-wolves to show themselves. We’ll come back with small caliber rifles in late January when the coyotes are always hungry. I would like to get a big pelt to hang on the wall along with mounted fish and deer antlers.
As for today’s fishing, I enjoyed the experience despite the meager results. I’m lucky to be living in an area where I can enjoy the outdoors as often as I do, and we’ll have ice into April on the bays around here. I’ve got plenty of time to explore new areas and look for new ice-fishing adventures. And you can be sure I’ll have some new stories to tell around the campfire.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
It was one-thirty in the afternoon when we got situated. Within the first half-hour something slammed a rod downward that I had balanced on a bucket while changing baits on another. It hit like a small pike does, slashing past, grabbing the bait like a running thief grabbing an apple off a fruit wagon without stopping. I missed that fish as well, and that’s when we packed it in for the day.
On the way back to the truck, we detoured past an eighty-acre island surrounded by marshlands with plenty of cat-tails and open areas between brushy pockets of cover. An ancient railroad grade crossed the island diagonally like the spine on a razorback hog. I once stalked to within twenty-five yards of two bedded deer on this island while hunting with a bow along the elevated trackway. Thick brush along its sides however, prevented me from getting a clear shot, and the deer soon bounded away.
We found several sets of coyote tracks leading into the interior, so we put together two brush blinds on the perimeter where we could hide while using predator calls and rabbit decoys to try to get the brush-wolves to show themselves. We’ll come back with small caliber rifles in late January when the coyotes are always hungry. I would like to get a big pelt to hang on the wall along with mounted fish and deer antlers.
As for today’s fishing, I enjoyed the experience despite the meager results. I’m lucky to be living in an area where I can enjoy the outdoors as often as I do, and we’ll have ice into April on the bays around here. I’ve got plenty of time to explore new areas and look for new ice-fishing adventures. And you can be sure I’ll have some new stories to tell around the campfire.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
THE DAY THE FISH GOT AWAY - Part two
Author's note: This is part two of a blog that details one recent day of ice fishing on Little Bay de Noc in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. The final installment will be posted tomorrow evening.
We set up the shanty directly at the point where the drop-off leveled out onto the flat. I baited a double-hook minnow rig with one flashy three-inch shiner at one foot off bottom and another at three feet up. That rod had a spring-steel strike indicator on the tip and I set it in a holder so it could work itself while a readied a second rig for perch. This one had a bright gold spoon as an attractor, a two-inch clear leader off the spoon, and a bright orange, needle-sharp plain hook on the end of the leader. It was baited with a live wiggler and lowered down so it rested just above the boulders.
I settled in to work the perch rig by lightly jigging it, while the walleye rig worked itself. The two shiner minnows swam around, keeping the strike indicator dancing lightly. After a while, the spring steel on the tip of the double-hook rig bent downward very slowly, which told me a fish was mouthing the bait. I rested the perch rig on the edge of the seat and took the other rod in hand. I lowered the rod tip for a few seconds to let the fish get the minnow fully, then I raised the rod tip until I started to feel the weight of the fish.
I was sure I’d set the hook into a walleye, but when I snapped the rod upward, the perch rod shot downward, falling to the floor. I grabbed for it while continuing to raise the other rod. Almost instantly I realized that whatever took the shiner minnow had crossed the line on the wiggler rig. The two were tangled! I tried to open the bail on the second rod so I would have a chance to land the other fish, but it just didn’t work. Whatever hit the shiner rig was gone and that was that!
While this was going on, Duane tried to quickly reel in his lines, and possibly take the perch rig from my side of the shanty, but it all happened quickly and we did not salvage anything from the brief flurry of excitement.
After a couple hours or so we had no more action on that spot, so we moved up to the weed edge on top of the underwater slope. There we could easily see the bottom in ten feet of water and we sight-fished small ice lures tipped with wigglers for perch, but had absolutely no action.
O.K., if nothing was going on shallow or at the base of the drop-off, we decided to head out to fifty feet of water east of the place we started and try for bigger perch from the depths. This was also the type of place whitefish sometimes hold in, so I put a simple split-shot and plain hook rig down, with the shot laying on bottom and the minnow swimming around it. This is generally the way whitefish like their bait presented.
Here again, we spent time trying to make something happen. I did see one fish approach on the screen of my locator and it may have picked up the minnow – the signal produced by my bait and that of the fish merged on the screen – but I did not get a good hookset. Too much stretch in fifty feet of four-pound test monofilament I guess. I also worked a deep-water perch rig baited with a wiggler here, but nothing bit.
We moved a few hundred yards at a time, working our way toward south toward the mouth of the Escanaba River, looking for roaming bands of perch, but it seemed that when we zigged, they zagged, when we hopped, they skipped. In the end our paths just didn’t cross. Arriving at the river mouth, we set up well out into the bay, because the constant flow of the river itself makes the ice there unstable. The mouth of the river forms a kind of broad delta that ranges from five to fourteen feet deep, then drops into twenty-six feet well out into the bay. That’s where we made a final attempt to salvage the day.
End of part two - check in tomorrow evening for part three.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
We set up the shanty directly at the point where the drop-off leveled out onto the flat. I baited a double-hook minnow rig with one flashy three-inch shiner at one foot off bottom and another at three feet up. That rod had a spring-steel strike indicator on the tip and I set it in a holder so it could work itself while a readied a second rig for perch. This one had a bright gold spoon as an attractor, a two-inch clear leader off the spoon, and a bright orange, needle-sharp plain hook on the end of the leader. It was baited with a live wiggler and lowered down so it rested just above the boulders.
I settled in to work the perch rig by lightly jigging it, while the walleye rig worked itself. The two shiner minnows swam around, keeping the strike indicator dancing lightly. After a while, the spring steel on the tip of the double-hook rig bent downward very slowly, which told me a fish was mouthing the bait. I rested the perch rig on the edge of the seat and took the other rod in hand. I lowered the rod tip for a few seconds to let the fish get the minnow fully, then I raised the rod tip until I started to feel the weight of the fish.
I was sure I’d set the hook into a walleye, but when I snapped the rod upward, the perch rod shot downward, falling to the floor. I grabbed for it while continuing to raise the other rod. Almost instantly I realized that whatever took the shiner minnow had crossed the line on the wiggler rig. The two were tangled! I tried to open the bail on the second rod so I would have a chance to land the other fish, but it just didn’t work. Whatever hit the shiner rig was gone and that was that!
While this was going on, Duane tried to quickly reel in his lines, and possibly take the perch rig from my side of the shanty, but it all happened quickly and we did not salvage anything from the brief flurry of excitement.
After a couple hours or so we had no more action on that spot, so we moved up to the weed edge on top of the underwater slope. There we could easily see the bottom in ten feet of water and we sight-fished small ice lures tipped with wigglers for perch, but had absolutely no action.
O.K., if nothing was going on shallow or at the base of the drop-off, we decided to head out to fifty feet of water east of the place we started and try for bigger perch from the depths. This was also the type of place whitefish sometimes hold in, so I put a simple split-shot and plain hook rig down, with the shot laying on bottom and the minnow swimming around it. This is generally the way whitefish like their bait presented.
Here again, we spent time trying to make something happen. I did see one fish approach on the screen of my locator and it may have picked up the minnow – the signal produced by my bait and that of the fish merged on the screen – but I did not get a good hookset. Too much stretch in fifty feet of four-pound test monofilament I guess. I also worked a deep-water perch rig baited with a wiggler here, but nothing bit.
We moved a few hundred yards at a time, working our way toward south toward the mouth of the Escanaba River, looking for roaming bands of perch, but it seemed that when we zigged, they zagged, when we hopped, they skipped. In the end our paths just didn’t cross. Arriving at the river mouth, we set up well out into the bay, because the constant flow of the river itself makes the ice there unstable. The mouth of the river forms a kind of broad delta that ranges from five to fourteen feet deep, then drops into twenty-six feet well out into the bay. That’s where we made a final attempt to salvage the day.
End of part two - check in tomorrow evening for part three.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
THE DAY THE FISH GOT AWAY - Part one
THE DAY THE FISH GOT AWAY!
By: Ray Hansen
Dateline: Saturday, January 10, 2008 – Gladstone, Michigan
I chased fish all over the bay today but it was one of those tough times. Things just did not go right - on top of a tough bite – and I failed to land a fish for all the effort I put into looking for a few that would hit.
I started out in the darkness prior to sunrise with life-long friend Duane Deno of Gladstone, Michigan. We left from a lot he owns on the shores of Little Bay de Noc where we rode out onto the bay on his Honda four-wheeler. He drove and I sat backwards on the cargo rack on the back of the machine. We pulled a portable ice shack and all our fishing gear on a high-sided sled behind the all terrain vehicle like a small train with a couple boxcars behind it. I should have been swinging an old red lantern like a brakeman leaning out from the caboose.
Sunrise / moonset was spectacular. The sun brightened the eastern horizon into pink, orange, and mango streaks, as the moon touched the treeline to the west like a massive painted parchment pancake. It is at its closest approach to earth and has been putting on a show for the past few days. I’m sure astronomers worldwide have been seized with spasms of near-orgasmic delight in the past forty-eight hours or so by what they observe through telescopes trained on our celestial neighbor.
About 10 o’clock last night Kate and I went for a hike in the frigid woods around our home, just to experience this wonderful phenomenon. The moon was so bright it would have been possible to read a newspaper by moonlight alone. Almost no artificial lights exist nearby to compete with the intense lunar luminosity. We saw deer silhouetted against the snow as we made our way past hardwood ridges and spruce covered hillsides. In every direction snow crystals caught the moonlight, reflecting like tiny diamonds sprinkled along the path.
Anyway, Duane and I headed for an area we had not previously fished through the ice. Since we had taken walleyes there very late in the autumn season in open water, we figured we might still find them in the same location now that the lake was frozen. In most other years we had not been able to safely traverse the ice there until late January, but the freeze has been quite early this year. Just a few days ago an icebreaker passed this point and its course is still visible on the frozen bay as a jumble of clear, jagged ice like broken glass scattered along a highway after a crash.
In this spot, a sand and weed flat broke sharply at ten feet, descending into a thirty-five foot depression where a field of scattered boulders provided cover for perch, gobies, and various minnow species. Walleyes just had to be there, didn’t they? Duane and I were completely confident.
End of part one - check in tomorrow for part two
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
By: Ray Hansen
Dateline: Saturday, January 10, 2008 – Gladstone, Michigan
I chased fish all over the bay today but it was one of those tough times. Things just did not go right - on top of a tough bite – and I failed to land a fish for all the effort I put into looking for a few that would hit.
I started out in the darkness prior to sunrise with life-long friend Duane Deno of Gladstone, Michigan. We left from a lot he owns on the shores of Little Bay de Noc where we rode out onto the bay on his Honda four-wheeler. He drove and I sat backwards on the cargo rack on the back of the machine. We pulled a portable ice shack and all our fishing gear on a high-sided sled behind the all terrain vehicle like a small train with a couple boxcars behind it. I should have been swinging an old red lantern like a brakeman leaning out from the caboose.
Sunrise / moonset was spectacular. The sun brightened the eastern horizon into pink, orange, and mango streaks, as the moon touched the treeline to the west like a massive painted parchment pancake. It is at its closest approach to earth and has been putting on a show for the past few days. I’m sure astronomers worldwide have been seized with spasms of near-orgasmic delight in the past forty-eight hours or so by what they observe through telescopes trained on our celestial neighbor.
About 10 o’clock last night Kate and I went for a hike in the frigid woods around our home, just to experience this wonderful phenomenon. The moon was so bright it would have been possible to read a newspaper by moonlight alone. Almost no artificial lights exist nearby to compete with the intense lunar luminosity. We saw deer silhouetted against the snow as we made our way past hardwood ridges and spruce covered hillsides. In every direction snow crystals caught the moonlight, reflecting like tiny diamonds sprinkled along the path.
Anyway, Duane and I headed for an area we had not previously fished through the ice. Since we had taken walleyes there very late in the autumn season in open water, we figured we might still find them in the same location now that the lake was frozen. In most other years we had not been able to safely traverse the ice there until late January, but the freeze has been quite early this year. Just a few days ago an icebreaker passed this point and its course is still visible on the frozen bay as a jumble of clear, jagged ice like broken glass scattered along a highway after a crash.
In this spot, a sand and weed flat broke sharply at ten feet, descending into a thirty-five foot depression where a field of scattered boulders provided cover for perch, gobies, and various minnow species. Walleyes just had to be there, didn’t they? Duane and I were completely confident.
End of part one - check in tomorrow for part two
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
SOMETHING WRONG AT THE RIDGE
SOMETHING WRONG AT THE RIDGE
By: Ray Hansen
We both knew something was wrong at The Ridge. We had always killed deer there, including Duane’s great nine-point buck, and we had watched many others at this natural crossing without drawing on them. Want some venison for camp meat? No problem! Use an antlerless tag on one of the does we commonly see there.
”The Ridge” was our name for a long narrow strip of higher ground bordered on the west by a twenty-acre patch of wet marsh, and on the east by a much larger jungle of tag alder, white cedar, and heavy brush. This was a natural travel route for local deer, and when the rut kicked in, bucks cruised through here regularly while patrolling doe groups. Big white cedars and spruce on this elevated runway offered good stand sites. This was the Upper Peninsula of Michigan at its best.
This particular season however, traffic was way down. Something had driven the deer toward alternate routes, and the few we saw were spooky. In camp between morning and afternoon hunts, Duane and I tried to figure out what happened.
For starters, we set out a trail camera, which quickly provided a clue. Six images of a large black bear showed up within two days. But bears by themselves don’t scare deer away. The whitetails may become a little more cautious when a bruin starts poking around their favored territory, but they will not abandon a home area that has served them well for years.
Knowing that the bear was close by made Duane and I pay closer attention while hunting and the photos motivated his brother Tom to apply for bear tags the following year. He ultimately shot a prime three-hundred pound boar close by.
In desperation, I left one of my stands early one morning to take a closer “CSI” look at the area immediately surrounding a stand I had on the ridge. I uncovered clue number two in this way. The carcass of a recently killed coyote lay sprawled in heavy cover just east of my stand. The male pack leader had died hard and fast. Its neck was snapped, ears standing upright, eyes open, and teeth bared in a perpetual snarl. I could visualize a 110 pound wolf grabbing the thirty pound canine by the neck and shaking it like a rag doll.
This find revealed that a pack of wolves was challenging their smaller relatives for hunting rights to the ridge. We later found canine tracks along an old logging road that confirmed recent wolf activity. Tom’s house backs up to a twenty acre field which is bordered by heavy woods with a creek meandering through the low areas. He’d been watching wolves through a spotting scope while they harassed resident deer.
So Duane and I knew what had altered deer movements, but one additional discovery cemented the knowledge that things would not return to normal for a while. One other camp was accessed by the same sand road we used to get to our spot. A “Y” in the road signals where a truck must turn to approach the other place. The owner, “Kenny”, stopped us a few days later to say that a juvenile mountain lion had crossed the road at the junction, only fifteen feet from him as he drove in. He wasn’t guessing about what he had seen. The cat paused in the headlights before jumping into the tag alders, giving Ken a good, broadside view. I can tell you that the long, sinuous tail on a lion cannot be mistaken for any other wild feline.
So, all the local predators knew about the deer traffic on The Ridge. That left Duane and I looking for other places deer had moved to. But… that’s part of the fun. Hunting areas change, and hunters adapt. Wolves, bears, mountain lions, and coyotes move on. Whitetails eventually return to old patterns, and I hope to be in a treestand on The Ridge when they do!
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008.
By: Ray Hansen
We both knew something was wrong at The Ridge. We had always killed deer there, including Duane’s great nine-point buck, and we had watched many others at this natural crossing without drawing on them. Want some venison for camp meat? No problem! Use an antlerless tag on one of the does we commonly see there.
”The Ridge” was our name for a long narrow strip of higher ground bordered on the west by a twenty-acre patch of wet marsh, and on the east by a much larger jungle of tag alder, white cedar, and heavy brush. This was a natural travel route for local deer, and when the rut kicked in, bucks cruised through here regularly while patrolling doe groups. Big white cedars and spruce on this elevated runway offered good stand sites. This was the Upper Peninsula of Michigan at its best.
This particular season however, traffic was way down. Something had driven the deer toward alternate routes, and the few we saw were spooky. In camp between morning and afternoon hunts, Duane and I tried to figure out what happened.
For starters, we set out a trail camera, which quickly provided a clue. Six images of a large black bear showed up within two days. But bears by themselves don’t scare deer away. The whitetails may become a little more cautious when a bruin starts poking around their favored territory, but they will not abandon a home area that has served them well for years.
Knowing that the bear was close by made Duane and I pay closer attention while hunting and the photos motivated his brother Tom to apply for bear tags the following year. He ultimately shot a prime three-hundred pound boar close by.
In desperation, I left one of my stands early one morning to take a closer “CSI” look at the area immediately surrounding a stand I had on the ridge. I uncovered clue number two in this way. The carcass of a recently killed coyote lay sprawled in heavy cover just east of my stand. The male pack leader had died hard and fast. Its neck was snapped, ears standing upright, eyes open, and teeth bared in a perpetual snarl. I could visualize a 110 pound wolf grabbing the thirty pound canine by the neck and shaking it like a rag doll.
This find revealed that a pack of wolves was challenging their smaller relatives for hunting rights to the ridge. We later found canine tracks along an old logging road that confirmed recent wolf activity. Tom’s house backs up to a twenty acre field which is bordered by heavy woods with a creek meandering through the low areas. He’d been watching wolves through a spotting scope while they harassed resident deer.
So Duane and I knew what had altered deer movements, but one additional discovery cemented the knowledge that things would not return to normal for a while. One other camp was accessed by the same sand road we used to get to our spot. A “Y” in the road signals where a truck must turn to approach the other place. The owner, “Kenny”, stopped us a few days later to say that a juvenile mountain lion had crossed the road at the junction, only fifteen feet from him as he drove in. He wasn’t guessing about what he had seen. The cat paused in the headlights before jumping into the tag alders, giving Ken a good, broadside view. I can tell you that the long, sinuous tail on a lion cannot be mistaken for any other wild feline.
So, all the local predators knew about the deer traffic on The Ridge. That left Duane and I looking for other places deer had moved to. But… that’s part of the fun. Hunting areas change, and hunters adapt. Wolves, bears, mountain lions, and coyotes move on. Whitetails eventually return to old patterns, and I hope to be in a treestand on The Ridge when they do!
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
ICE FISHING THIS MORNING 1-1-09
Happy New Year:
I'm not sure how you spent the first day of January, but I went out ice fishing with a friend before sunrise this morning. I was dressed like an Eskimo with multiple layers of clothes, insulated bib overalls and a long-tail, hooded parka, knit hat, knee-high felt-lined pac boots and more. We worked depths of 28 to 30 feet along a drop-off on the west side of Little Bay de Noc with three inch shiners we bought Friday evening and stored overnight. This is near my home in Delta County, Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
We took a chance, heading to a part of the bay that is usually not safe to fish until late January. It seemed that the cold weather we have had would have firmed up the ice down that way enough to make it safe. There were others out ahead of us, so we were not exactly riding into the unknown. We found the ice 8 to 10 inches thick, but a large coal boat had come through from open water farther south and broke a channel to the docks about a mile south of us. We rode on a Honda all terrain vehicle to cover some territory in our search for fish.
We landed just two walleyes, one 28" and another 21". Both hit Swedish Pimple spoons (Bay de Noc Tackle Company) tipped with the minnows in 28' to 30' of water. We took my portable shanty because we intended to move around and a portable makes this easier. We had trouble with the wind blowing the thin walls like sails and moving the shack a little. When both of us sat inside on overturned buckets, there was enough weight to keep it anchored, but when one stepped out it could shift position. Honestly, the bite was slow even though we managed a couple nice fish. The wind chill was bad and after shooting just six photos my fingers were stiff and the camera flashed a "low battey" signal. The strong south winds apparently blew water up under the ice and caused several heaves. The first major jolt we felt (and heard) was an extended rumbling boom that shook the shanty fairly hard. Later, another sharp jolt ran a six inch open water crack running right between the wheels of our ATV parked alongside the shanty. When we went out to investigate, we found that we were on a piece of ice about twenty feet by thirty feet or so that had broken free from the surroundings. Several other pieces were around us. Picture a jigsaw puzzle. We were on one of the pieces and surrounded by other pieces. There was no danger of drifting away, but if one of the pieces broke into smaller fragments, there could have been real trouble. We gathered our gear immediately and rode back to shore, crossing several open water cracks along the way. Obviously none of them were wide enough to prevent crossing, but they all allowed water to spout up onto the surface ice and all we could do was open the throttle a bit and fly through them spraying water all the way. We actually did not get wet, because the water froze on our gear fast enough to keep it from soaking through anything.
This area has the potential to be a real "big fish zone", but I guess we are going to have to wait a little longer before going out there again. I have fished there many times in the past, but never this early in the year. One of the fascinating aspects of this part of the bay is that there are several wooden shipwrecks on the bottom (I've seen underwater camera pictures of them) and the resulting bottom structure holds fish there in the jumbled stacks of wood and iron. Drifting through the area in a boat on a spring day is a lot more comfortable, but I wouldn't trade these winter fishing adventures for anything else!
Ray
I'm not sure how you spent the first day of January, but I went out ice fishing with a friend before sunrise this morning. I was dressed like an Eskimo with multiple layers of clothes, insulated bib overalls and a long-tail, hooded parka, knit hat, knee-high felt-lined pac boots and more. We worked depths of 28 to 30 feet along a drop-off on the west side of Little Bay de Noc with three inch shiners we bought Friday evening and stored overnight. This is near my home in Delta County, Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
We took a chance, heading to a part of the bay that is usually not safe to fish until late January. It seemed that the cold weather we have had would have firmed up the ice down that way enough to make it safe. There were others out ahead of us, so we were not exactly riding into the unknown. We found the ice 8 to 10 inches thick, but a large coal boat had come through from open water farther south and broke a channel to the docks about a mile south of us. We rode on a Honda all terrain vehicle to cover some territory in our search for fish.
We landed just two walleyes, one 28" and another 21". Both hit Swedish Pimple spoons (Bay de Noc Tackle Company) tipped with the minnows in 28' to 30' of water. We took my portable shanty because we intended to move around and a portable makes this easier. We had trouble with the wind blowing the thin walls like sails and moving the shack a little. When both of us sat inside on overturned buckets, there was enough weight to keep it anchored, but when one stepped out it could shift position. Honestly, the bite was slow even though we managed a couple nice fish. The wind chill was bad and after shooting just six photos my fingers were stiff and the camera flashed a "low battey" signal. The strong south winds apparently blew water up under the ice and caused several heaves. The first major jolt we felt (and heard) was an extended rumbling boom that shook the shanty fairly hard. Later, another sharp jolt ran a six inch open water crack running right between the wheels of our ATV parked alongside the shanty. When we went out to investigate, we found that we were on a piece of ice about twenty feet by thirty feet or so that had broken free from the surroundings. Several other pieces were around us. Picture a jigsaw puzzle. We were on one of the pieces and surrounded by other pieces. There was no danger of drifting away, but if one of the pieces broke into smaller fragments, there could have been real trouble. We gathered our gear immediately and rode back to shore, crossing several open water cracks along the way. Obviously none of them were wide enough to prevent crossing, but they all allowed water to spout up onto the surface ice and all we could do was open the throttle a bit and fly through them spraying water all the way. We actually did not get wet, because the water froze on our gear fast enough to keep it from soaking through anything.
This area has the potential to be a real "big fish zone", but I guess we are going to have to wait a little longer before going out there again. I have fished there many times in the past, but never this early in the year. One of the fascinating aspects of this part of the bay is that there are several wooden shipwrecks on the bottom (I've seen underwater camera pictures of them) and the resulting bottom structure holds fish there in the jumbled stacks of wood and iron. Drifting through the area in a boat on a spring day is a lot more comfortable, but I wouldn't trade these winter fishing adventures for anything else!
Ray
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
DEEP WATER SPOON TRICKS - Part two
Author's note: This is the final part of yesterday's blog. I'll be out on the bay Thursday and will probably use some of the tactics detailed here.
I sometimes run two rods, with a live minnow on the second. Keep this presentation simple, such as a split shot and plain hook rig. The second rod needs to “fish itself” because you are going to pay a lot of attention to the spoon while you work it. Choose a large minnow as bait since it can attract more attention that a smaller size. Two and one half to three inches is best. Remember, we are not fishing for small perch. On the other hand, running too large a minnow can attract big walleyes or pike which can shut down perch activity.
Always pay attention to the information you are getting from your locator. Be quick to raise your bait to the level of fish that show up above your bait, but be slow to lower it to fish beneath the lure. When your bait is above fish, they can see it and may rise if you use the nervous twitch I mentioned. When they do not rise upward, they are not very active and may spook easily. Maintain the shake you have been using and lower the bait slowly to their level. Stop just inches above the fish, and hope the closer presentation will trigger a hit.
Above all, think about your presentations. Try new tactics like these. Experiment. Keep moving as you search for fish. Don’t let deep water deter you, as long as it remains safe to walk on. Put some effort into your fishing. You’ll get some new stories to tell around the campfire.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
I sometimes run two rods, with a live minnow on the second. Keep this presentation simple, such as a split shot and plain hook rig. The second rod needs to “fish itself” because you are going to pay a lot of attention to the spoon while you work it. Choose a large minnow as bait since it can attract more attention that a smaller size. Two and one half to three inches is best. Remember, we are not fishing for small perch. On the other hand, running too large a minnow can attract big walleyes or pike which can shut down perch activity.
Always pay attention to the information you are getting from your locator. Be quick to raise your bait to the level of fish that show up above your bait, but be slow to lower it to fish beneath the lure. When your bait is above fish, they can see it and may rise if you use the nervous twitch I mentioned. When they do not rise upward, they are not very active and may spook easily. Maintain the shake you have been using and lower the bait slowly to their level. Stop just inches above the fish, and hope the closer presentation will trigger a hit.
Above all, think about your presentations. Try new tactics like these. Experiment. Keep moving as you search for fish. Don’t let deep water deter you, as long as it remains safe to walk on. Put some effort into your fishing. You’ll get some new stories to tell around the campfire.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
DEEP WATER SPOON TRICKS - Part one
DEEP WATER SPOON TRICKS
By: Ray Hansen
I’ve been chasing perch in deeper water than ever in the past few years - often fifty feet or more, and this is true from late winter through early fall. If you are spending most of your time in twenty feet of water or less for these popular panfish, consider the following deep water methods for late ice fishing.
Start with the right rod and line. A short but thin and stiff spinning rod about twenty-four inches in length, a matching ultra-light reel and four pound test clear monofilament line is about right for ten to fifteen inch perch.
For late ice outings, run a size 3 Swedish Pimple spoon with a single hook and a fresh minnow head as bait. Work the range from two to six feet off bottom, but occasionally let the spoon fall to bottom where it stirs up some silt. Aggressive jigging attracts fish, while the stationary lure makes an easier target for fish to hit, so how do you compromise between the two? Let your electronics tell you.
When fish are present on the screen, use just a simple twitch of the rod tip to make the lure shudder and quiver in place like a live, nervous creature. Watch the screen closely. You’ll see fish approach your lure, and when the marks on the screen merge you know the fish is probably eyeing your bait. Raise the lure slowly while feeling for some extra weight. With a sharp hook, you just need to snap your wrist upward and start reeling the instant you detect a bite.
Some anglers use a variation of the presentation I detailed above. They let the Swedish Pimple “free-fall” on a completely slack line toward bottom. In this way, the lure darts off to one side by several feet. The angler lets the lure go until it is laying on bottom somewhere off to one side of the hole.
With the lure lying in the silt, the angler shakes the rod tip while very slowly reeling the lure forward. This makes it kick up more silt in a slight “trail” along bottom that can appeal strongly to perch that forage on bloodworms from soft bottomed areas. Once the lure is hanging straight beneath the hole, bring it up about four feet off bottom and twitch it while watching your electronics.
Minnow heads work very well as bait, but what about the remainder of the minnow? I like to chum with minnow meat. Toss the headless minnow on the ice next to the hole and mash it with a metal skimmer. Push it into the water where it sinks to bottom leaving a scent trail on the way.
End of part one – check in tomorrow for part two
By: Ray Hansen
I’ve been chasing perch in deeper water than ever in the past few years - often fifty feet or more, and this is true from late winter through early fall. If you are spending most of your time in twenty feet of water or less for these popular panfish, consider the following deep water methods for late ice fishing.
Start with the right rod and line. A short but thin and stiff spinning rod about twenty-four inches in length, a matching ultra-light reel and four pound test clear monofilament line is about right for ten to fifteen inch perch.
For late ice outings, run a size 3 Swedish Pimple spoon with a single hook and a fresh minnow head as bait. Work the range from two to six feet off bottom, but occasionally let the spoon fall to bottom where it stirs up some silt. Aggressive jigging attracts fish, while the stationary lure makes an easier target for fish to hit, so how do you compromise between the two? Let your electronics tell you.
When fish are present on the screen, use just a simple twitch of the rod tip to make the lure shudder and quiver in place like a live, nervous creature. Watch the screen closely. You’ll see fish approach your lure, and when the marks on the screen merge you know the fish is probably eyeing your bait. Raise the lure slowly while feeling for some extra weight. With a sharp hook, you just need to snap your wrist upward and start reeling the instant you detect a bite.
Some anglers use a variation of the presentation I detailed above. They let the Swedish Pimple “free-fall” on a completely slack line toward bottom. In this way, the lure darts off to one side by several feet. The angler lets the lure go until it is laying on bottom somewhere off to one side of the hole.
With the lure lying in the silt, the angler shakes the rod tip while very slowly reeling the lure forward. This makes it kick up more silt in a slight “trail” along bottom that can appeal strongly to perch that forage on bloodworms from soft bottomed areas. Once the lure is hanging straight beneath the hole, bring it up about four feet off bottom and twitch it while watching your electronics.
Minnow heads work very well as bait, but what about the remainder of the minnow? I like to chum with minnow meat. Toss the headless minnow on the ice next to the hole and mash it with a metal skimmer. Push it into the water where it sinks to bottom leaving a scent trail on the way.
End of part one – check in tomorrow for part two
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
DEER SOUNDS
DEER SOUNDS
They Don’t Talk, but Communicate? You Bet!
By: Ray Hansen
Hunters, going back thousands of years, have understood that deer make sounds which are interpreted by other deer to mean various things. I’ve heard them many times. In this blog I’ll cite a few examples.
Hunting a remote part of Marquette County in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula with life-long friend Duane Deno of Gladstone, Michigan, we encountered three does while walking along a trail out of the woods about 11 a.m. on an October hunt. Two of the does ran off, but the third stood there gawking at us like were aliens (maybe we were to the deer)!
After a stare-down of about ten seconds, one of the does that ran off made a distinct “bleat” from about one-hundred yards away. The doe watching us immediately swiveled her head toward the sound, then bounded off to join the others. We figured that call meant “hey you… get over here!” And that is just what the doe did. Duane and I now imitate that call frequently, using commercial deer calls. Duane refers to it as the “I’m over here” call.
Recently, a company released a new call that imitates a “buck roar”. This vocalization is very rare. I’ve heard it only three times, twice on one day, and once on the following day. I was hunting an area of Illinois where only antlerless deer could be taken. After a few years of these restrictions, the deer population shifted so that it was well-balanced, meaning there were as many bucks as does. Under these circumstances, serious competition for breeding rights occurs, and fights can take place.
The first time I heard the sound, it was so loud that it startled me. My first impression was that someone who knew where I was hunting snuck out to the area and let loose with a fake roar they hoped would sound like a bear. I simply could not associate the sound with anything I’d ever heard a deer make. A while later, I heard it again, this time when a large buck charged at a smaller eight-point buck. I watched the bigger deer drive off the smaller one.
I suppose that sound meant “get out of here, or get killed”, or “stay away from the doe I’m chasing”. I heard that sound once again the following day, from the same stand, and have not heard it since. I’m not surprised about not hearing it again. As I mentioned, it is hard to find an area with the right herd dynamics that might cause bucks to roar in this way.
Most of the time when I hear deer making grunts or bleats, it is just one deer letting others know where it is. On several occasions I have had family groups consisting of a mature doe and several year-classes of small deer (mostly other does, but occasionally including a buck fawn as well) milling around a tree stand I’m in. On very quiet days, I have clearly heard them “mewing” as they browsed through the woods. They sounded a lot like cats, or certain birds.
Finally, I’ve watched deer making sounds on frosty mornings when I could see breath vapor coming out of their mouths. That is always interesting. Cold, clear and still mornings are best for this observation. One of these days I’m going to bring a video camera out to my stand and capture these events. Until then, I just listen to the way they sound, and try to imitate them when I’m calling.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
They Don’t Talk, but Communicate? You Bet!
By: Ray Hansen
Hunters, going back thousands of years, have understood that deer make sounds which are interpreted by other deer to mean various things. I’ve heard them many times. In this blog I’ll cite a few examples.
Hunting a remote part of Marquette County in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula with life-long friend Duane Deno of Gladstone, Michigan, we encountered three does while walking along a trail out of the woods about 11 a.m. on an October hunt. Two of the does ran off, but the third stood there gawking at us like were aliens (maybe we were to the deer)!
After a stare-down of about ten seconds, one of the does that ran off made a distinct “bleat” from about one-hundred yards away. The doe watching us immediately swiveled her head toward the sound, then bounded off to join the others. We figured that call meant “hey you… get over here!” And that is just what the doe did. Duane and I now imitate that call frequently, using commercial deer calls. Duane refers to it as the “I’m over here” call.
Recently, a company released a new call that imitates a “buck roar”. This vocalization is very rare. I’ve heard it only three times, twice on one day, and once on the following day. I was hunting an area of Illinois where only antlerless deer could be taken. After a few years of these restrictions, the deer population shifted so that it was well-balanced, meaning there were as many bucks as does. Under these circumstances, serious competition for breeding rights occurs, and fights can take place.
The first time I heard the sound, it was so loud that it startled me. My first impression was that someone who knew where I was hunting snuck out to the area and let loose with a fake roar they hoped would sound like a bear. I simply could not associate the sound with anything I’d ever heard a deer make. A while later, I heard it again, this time when a large buck charged at a smaller eight-point buck. I watched the bigger deer drive off the smaller one.
I suppose that sound meant “get out of here, or get killed”, or “stay away from the doe I’m chasing”. I heard that sound once again the following day, from the same stand, and have not heard it since. I’m not surprised about not hearing it again. As I mentioned, it is hard to find an area with the right herd dynamics that might cause bucks to roar in this way.
Most of the time when I hear deer making grunts or bleats, it is just one deer letting others know where it is. On several occasions I have had family groups consisting of a mature doe and several year-classes of small deer (mostly other does, but occasionally including a buck fawn as well) milling around a tree stand I’m in. On very quiet days, I have clearly heard them “mewing” as they browsed through the woods. They sounded a lot like cats, or certain birds.
Finally, I’ve watched deer making sounds on frosty mornings when I could see breath vapor coming out of their mouths. That is always interesting. Cold, clear and still mornings are best for this observation. One of these days I’m going to bring a video camera out to my stand and capture these events. Until then, I just listen to the way they sound, and try to imitate them when I’m calling.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
TOUGH DRAGS
TOUGH DRAGS
By: Ray Hansen
As I write this piece I’m preparing to head out into the woods again tomorrow with a muzzleloader. By the time you read this I will have hiked out a mile or so in the frigid pre-dawn weather, picked a good spot, and have been sitting for a number of hours waiting for an eight-point buck to slip by in range (that is what I have tags for). And I’m going to love every second of it! The following paragraphs detail some challenges I’ve in the past getting deer out of the woods after the shot.
“I’m getting too old for this” I told myself as I pulled the big doe along using a rope attached to a shoulder harness. Dry, snowless ground made this part of the hunt a real challenge. Four or five steep ridges and a lot of flat ground stood between me and where I parked. On the steepest parts I could only manage ten feet at a time before resting. Even downhill sections were tough after a while. Several hours passed before I was able to load the large animal into my pickup. This deer was taken on a hunt in Illinois where walking in and dragging your deer out was the only option.
Of course getting the animal out of the woods is part of the hunt. I might gripe about it a little, but secretly, I’m glad I can still do it.
Sometimes the chore is made simpler with machinery. I keep an old 1981 Honda All-Terrain Vehicle in a friend’s shed here in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where I hunt each year. What a great piece of engineering! It always starts (with a pull rope), gets me out into the woods quickly, and does a workhorse of a job when pulling deer out of the swamp.
My friend Duane Deno of Gladstone, Michigan also keeps an old (1978) Honda handy when we hunt. It is a very small – 90 c.c. – machine, but therein lies its utility. It can get in and out of spots that larger ATV’s can’t access.
One year I arrowed a deer on a bow-hunt in which we had to cross a one-hundred yard stretch of flooded swamp using hip boots. The footing was treacherous, and we dreaded trying to drag the deer across that beaver-flooded, marshy pot-hole.
Using some “Yooper” ingenuity however, Duane and I devised a solution. He rode his machine back into the woods to the last of the high ground before it dropped into the swamp. Using several odd lengths of rope we scrounged, we managed to create a piece long enough to span the worst part of the waterway. I am not exaggerating when I say the rope we pieced together was all of three hundred feet long. Tying one end to the Honda and the other end to the deer, he took off, skidding the doe across the water like it was water-skiing. We’ve had many good laughs about that incident over the years, and it will always be a good story to tell around the campfire.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
By: Ray Hansen
As I write this piece I’m preparing to head out into the woods again tomorrow with a muzzleloader. By the time you read this I will have hiked out a mile or so in the frigid pre-dawn weather, picked a good spot, and have been sitting for a number of hours waiting for an eight-point buck to slip by in range (that is what I have tags for). And I’m going to love every second of it! The following paragraphs detail some challenges I’ve in the past getting deer out of the woods after the shot.
“I’m getting too old for this” I told myself as I pulled the big doe along using a rope attached to a shoulder harness. Dry, snowless ground made this part of the hunt a real challenge. Four or five steep ridges and a lot of flat ground stood between me and where I parked. On the steepest parts I could only manage ten feet at a time before resting. Even downhill sections were tough after a while. Several hours passed before I was able to load the large animal into my pickup. This deer was taken on a hunt in Illinois where walking in and dragging your deer out was the only option.
Of course getting the animal out of the woods is part of the hunt. I might gripe about it a little, but secretly, I’m glad I can still do it.
Sometimes the chore is made simpler with machinery. I keep an old 1981 Honda All-Terrain Vehicle in a friend’s shed here in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where I hunt each year. What a great piece of engineering! It always starts (with a pull rope), gets me out into the woods quickly, and does a workhorse of a job when pulling deer out of the swamp.
My friend Duane Deno of Gladstone, Michigan also keeps an old (1978) Honda handy when we hunt. It is a very small – 90 c.c. – machine, but therein lies its utility. It can get in and out of spots that larger ATV’s can’t access.
One year I arrowed a deer on a bow-hunt in which we had to cross a one-hundred yard stretch of flooded swamp using hip boots. The footing was treacherous, and we dreaded trying to drag the deer across that beaver-flooded, marshy pot-hole.
Using some “Yooper” ingenuity however, Duane and I devised a solution. He rode his machine back into the woods to the last of the high ground before it dropped into the swamp. Using several odd lengths of rope we scrounged, we managed to create a piece long enough to span the worst part of the waterway. I am not exaggerating when I say the rope we pieced together was all of three hundred feet long. Tying one end to the Honda and the other end to the deer, he took off, skidding the doe across the water like it was water-skiing. We’ve had many good laughs about that incident over the years, and it will always be a good story to tell around the campfire.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
COYOTES IN THE COLD
Author's Note: We have had another mild blizzard here in the Upper Peninsula. The snowfall was not excessive, but the blowing created a lot of drifting. I got stuck up in Rock, Michigan near the Delta County/Marquette County line, but I'm back today. I've been hearing coyotes howling in the woods near me recently, and that prompted today's blog. I hope you enjoy reading it.
COYOTES IN THE COLD
Slim Pickings in January Alters Behavior
By: Ray Hansen
I’ve encountered coyotes in the wild for many years in settings from suburbia to the Sylvania Wilderness Area in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. One of the most informative meetings we’ve had however, was while I ice-fished Mallard Lake in Bloomingdale, Illinois just west of Chicago. I believe I observed two adult coyotes teaching two juveniles how to forage for food when times are tough. This is what I saw:
January always brings some lean times for scavengers like coyotes. Most rodents are hidden deep in brush cover, birds are present only in small numbers, roadkill is rare, vegetation is scarce, and food in general is hard to find.
I had the lake to myself on this day, and my intention was to catch bluegills and crappies. I augered a series of holes in deep water not far off shore in the lake’s northwest corner. Before long I was catching small ‘gills and releasing them back into the water.
I noticed a coyote slip out of the brushy shoreline cover to the east and walk across the ice while keeping an eye on me. Another canine joined it shortly thereafter. Later they both re-entered the heavier cover along shore and I lost track of them.
Before long I watched as the two reappeared, this time with two smaller coyotes in tow. They positioned themselves at four locations – like compass points – surrounding me at a distance of about one-hundred yards away. Slowly, step by step, they converged on me from the four different directions. This seemed like a classic hunting strategy, but I really found it hard to believe they were targeting me. I think perhaps these brush-wolves had previously found small fish lying on the ice where other anglers had tossed them. They just wanted to see if I was leaving any for them.
The largest coyote approached closest. He (I’m assuming this was a male) stopped about thirty yards away, standing on a sand / gravel shoreline. There, he made what seemed to be at least a mildly aggressive maneuver by pawing and kicking sand and small rocks out onto the ice toward me like a dog will sometimes do.
At that point I stood up and banged my auger on the ice once, causing the coyotes to slink away. I stayed another couple hours, and caught glimpses of the animals at times, but they made no further close approaches.
Seems to me the adults were showing the young ones how a small pack should close in on potential prey. Of course that is just my interpretation. I did not feel threatened by their actions. I didn’t leave them any fish either. I do not think showing coyotes that humans can provide feeding opportunities is a good idea. Some people learn the hard way that leaving dog food in their backyards for coyotes simply teaches them that feeding opportunities exist where dogs are found. They’ll eat the dog food alright, and have the dog (or cat) for dessert. Local newspapers carry stories about snatched pets every year – especially during the toughest part of winter.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
COYOTES IN THE COLD
Slim Pickings in January Alters Behavior
By: Ray Hansen
I’ve encountered coyotes in the wild for many years in settings from suburbia to the Sylvania Wilderness Area in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. One of the most informative meetings we’ve had however, was while I ice-fished Mallard Lake in Bloomingdale, Illinois just west of Chicago. I believe I observed two adult coyotes teaching two juveniles how to forage for food when times are tough. This is what I saw:
January always brings some lean times for scavengers like coyotes. Most rodents are hidden deep in brush cover, birds are present only in small numbers, roadkill is rare, vegetation is scarce, and food in general is hard to find.
I had the lake to myself on this day, and my intention was to catch bluegills and crappies. I augered a series of holes in deep water not far off shore in the lake’s northwest corner. Before long I was catching small ‘gills and releasing them back into the water.
I noticed a coyote slip out of the brushy shoreline cover to the east and walk across the ice while keeping an eye on me. Another canine joined it shortly thereafter. Later they both re-entered the heavier cover along shore and I lost track of them.
Before long I watched as the two reappeared, this time with two smaller coyotes in tow. They positioned themselves at four locations – like compass points – surrounding me at a distance of about one-hundred yards away. Slowly, step by step, they converged on me from the four different directions. This seemed like a classic hunting strategy, but I really found it hard to believe they were targeting me. I think perhaps these brush-wolves had previously found small fish lying on the ice where other anglers had tossed them. They just wanted to see if I was leaving any for them.
The largest coyote approached closest. He (I’m assuming this was a male) stopped about thirty yards away, standing on a sand / gravel shoreline. There, he made what seemed to be at least a mildly aggressive maneuver by pawing and kicking sand and small rocks out onto the ice toward me like a dog will sometimes do.
At that point I stood up and banged my auger on the ice once, causing the coyotes to slink away. I stayed another couple hours, and caught glimpses of the animals at times, but they made no further close approaches.
Seems to me the adults were showing the young ones how a small pack should close in on potential prey. Of course that is just my interpretation. I did not feel threatened by their actions. I didn’t leave them any fish either. I do not think showing coyotes that humans can provide feeding opportunities is a good idea. Some people learn the hard way that leaving dog food in their backyards for coyotes simply teaches them that feeding opportunities exist where dogs are found. They’ll eat the dog food alright, and have the dog (or cat) for dessert. Local newspapers carry stories about snatched pets every year – especially during the toughest part of winter.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
TACKLING DEEP WATER PERCH
Author's note: Ice fishing season is just starting here on the north end of the Great Lakes in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. The action id still in shallow water, but I can tell you from experience that winter anglers will hit deep spots as soon as the ice out there becomes safe. Here are some tactics for perch found deeper.
TACKLING DEEP WATER PERCH
Great Lakes Water Clarity Moves Fish Deeper
By: Ray Hansen
The improvement in water clarity on many bodies of water in the past ten years or so has been nothing short of amazing. Non-native invasive species such as zebra mussels that filter sediment from the water have dramatically changed their chosen habitat. Lake Michigan for example commonly has places where the bottom can be seen in fifteen feet and deeper – especially along the northernmost parts of this Great Lake.
Whereas many fishermen chasing salmon and other species that commonly suspend at some mid-point in the water column have noticed fish hold deeper, perch anglers have really seen the difference. Since they typically find these fish close to bottom, they quickly noticed dramatic changes. Catching these popular panfish in depths to seventy-five feet is now common. The same patterns can be seen through the ice.
Using lightweight lures to tempt fickle biters in shallower water still works on occasion, but much of the time you’ll have to get much deeper – especially on huge bodies of water where schools of smelt or alewives provide forage.
Using compact lures that are “heavy for their size” is the best approach to catching deep-water dwellers. Lures that have enough weight to zip down to bottom in fifty or more feet let you get your bait back in front of fish faster than a presentation that sinks slowly.
One of my favorite deep-water perch rigs is an eighteen-inch ice rod coupled with a tiny spinning reel and spooled with four-pound test monofilament line. I attach a size 2 or 3 “Swedish Pimple” spoon (Bay de Noc Tackle Company), using a very small, thin wire snap (not a snap swivel) to clip my lure to the line. The snap allows maximum lure action while jigging it to attract bites.
Use the small treble hook this lure is packaged with, and load each hook point with two or three “spikes” (maggots) as bait. This means you’ll be hooking six to nine spikes on the lure. Remember to remove a few old spikes frequently, replacing them with fresh bait. The maggots exude a milky fluid into the surrounding water when fresh, which attracts and holds perch in your spot.
The rest is simple. Let the lure plunge to bottom by opening the reel’s bail, and when it stops sinking you know it is resting on the lake’s floor. Next reel in a little line so that the lure hangs two or three feet up from the rocks, sand, or mud. As always, run a locator constantly while fishing. That shows you what level fish are holding at, and indicates when fish are approaching your lure.
Two different actions may attract fish: “shaking”, or “ripping”. Shaking is done by simply shaking the rod tip to make the Pimple “dance in place for five to ten seconds, then pausing to watch for a hit. The sequence is: shake – pause – shake – pause, until you get bit.
“Ripping “means to start just off bottom, rip the spoon upward one to three feet, then allowing it to settle back into place. Again, pause to watch for a bite. This lure is a proven perch killer, and it is especially effective when you need to work great depths.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
TACKLING DEEP WATER PERCH
Great Lakes Water Clarity Moves Fish Deeper
By: Ray Hansen
The improvement in water clarity on many bodies of water in the past ten years or so has been nothing short of amazing. Non-native invasive species such as zebra mussels that filter sediment from the water have dramatically changed their chosen habitat. Lake Michigan for example commonly has places where the bottom can be seen in fifteen feet and deeper – especially along the northernmost parts of this Great Lake.
Whereas many fishermen chasing salmon and other species that commonly suspend at some mid-point in the water column have noticed fish hold deeper, perch anglers have really seen the difference. Since they typically find these fish close to bottom, they quickly noticed dramatic changes. Catching these popular panfish in depths to seventy-five feet is now common. The same patterns can be seen through the ice.
Using lightweight lures to tempt fickle biters in shallower water still works on occasion, but much of the time you’ll have to get much deeper – especially on huge bodies of water where schools of smelt or alewives provide forage.
Using compact lures that are “heavy for their size” is the best approach to catching deep-water dwellers. Lures that have enough weight to zip down to bottom in fifty or more feet let you get your bait back in front of fish faster than a presentation that sinks slowly.
One of my favorite deep-water perch rigs is an eighteen-inch ice rod coupled with a tiny spinning reel and spooled with four-pound test monofilament line. I attach a size 2 or 3 “Swedish Pimple” spoon (Bay de Noc Tackle Company), using a very small, thin wire snap (not a snap swivel) to clip my lure to the line. The snap allows maximum lure action while jigging it to attract bites.
Use the small treble hook this lure is packaged with, and load each hook point with two or three “spikes” (maggots) as bait. This means you’ll be hooking six to nine spikes on the lure. Remember to remove a few old spikes frequently, replacing them with fresh bait. The maggots exude a milky fluid into the surrounding water when fresh, which attracts and holds perch in your spot.
The rest is simple. Let the lure plunge to bottom by opening the reel’s bail, and when it stops sinking you know it is resting on the lake’s floor. Next reel in a little line so that the lure hangs two or three feet up from the rocks, sand, or mud. As always, run a locator constantly while fishing. That shows you what level fish are holding at, and indicates when fish are approaching your lure.
Two different actions may attract fish: “shaking”, or “ripping”. Shaking is done by simply shaking the rod tip to make the Pimple “dance in place for five to ten seconds, then pausing to watch for a hit. The sequence is: shake – pause – shake – pause, until you get bit.
“Ripping “means to start just off bottom, rip the spoon upward one to three feet, then allowing it to settle back into place. Again, pause to watch for a bite. This lure is a proven perch killer, and it is especially effective when you need to work great depths.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
PRIME TIME WALLEYES AND THE SEARCH FOR PERCH - PART TWO
PRIME TIME WALLEYES AND THE SEARCH FOR PERCH - PART TWO
By: Ray Hansen
START ON THE FLATS
My search for perch normally starts on the deeper flats near the place I found walleyes. I do not start fishing blindly however. The first thing to do is start searching for a likely spot. This is done by drilling holes and looking for perch with your locator. Team up with a friend to make this process faster. One person augers a couple holes, while the other runs the locator.
You should keep moving in a “leapfrog” fashion as you cover the area. Look for smaller, individual marks one to three feet off bottom, or a kind of “bumpy bottom” signal on the screen. Of course, some anglers use cameras to speed this process. The trick is to spend time searching instead of simply “fishing and wishing”.
USE SEARCH LURES
Since most of the perch action takes place during the day and in deeper water, I use compact and slightly heavy lures to “zip” my bait to bottom quickly. I like a size 2 or 3 Swedish Pimple spoon for this approach because it gets you back in the “strike zone” as quickly as possible.
My friend Duane Deno who fishes Little Bay De Noc in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula throughout the winter, uses this tactic as well as working the smallest Jigging Rapala lures in deep water. It is very similar to the walleye tactics I mentioned, just on a smaller scale.
THE OLD “DOUBLE BAIT” TRICK
One of the deadliest live baits for perch is the “wiggler” which is a larvae type perch can’t resist. The problem with using this bait however is that they come off the hook so easily. If you get a bite in forty feet of water, but miss the fish, you might as well reel in immediately and put another wiggler on your hook. This wastes a lot of time. Perch move frequently and you have to work them as fast as you can while they are holding on your spot.
There is an approach that can help overcome this problem. Use a Swedish Pimple with a small treble hook as an example to see how this works. Load two of the hook points with at least two “spikes” (maggots) on each one. On the remaining hook point, put one spike on “sideways” first, then impale a wiggler. The spikes are a lot tougher and much harder to pull off. Even if you lose the wiggler, you still have bait down there working for you.
FINAL THOUGHTS
After you have a lengthy line of holes drilled, it can pay to go back to your starting point to re-check for active fish. Perch move a lot, and you might find some fresh action.
Lean toward orange! This color is frequently the best choice for perch.
The higher off bottom the marks on your locator show, the better. Those perch are more actively roaming and feeding. In a related observation, if you are going to run a stationary rod with a live minnow on it while jigging a second rod, use a large minnow and set it about six feet off bottom. Perch passing below your bait are more likely to see it.
And finally, keep a confident attitude! Move until you find fish and move again when the bite slows. You’ll work harder, but you’ll catch more fish.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
By: Ray Hansen
START ON THE FLATS
My search for perch normally starts on the deeper flats near the place I found walleyes. I do not start fishing blindly however. The first thing to do is start searching for a likely spot. This is done by drilling holes and looking for perch with your locator. Team up with a friend to make this process faster. One person augers a couple holes, while the other runs the locator.
You should keep moving in a “leapfrog” fashion as you cover the area. Look for smaller, individual marks one to three feet off bottom, or a kind of “bumpy bottom” signal on the screen. Of course, some anglers use cameras to speed this process. The trick is to spend time searching instead of simply “fishing and wishing”.
USE SEARCH LURES
Since most of the perch action takes place during the day and in deeper water, I use compact and slightly heavy lures to “zip” my bait to bottom quickly. I like a size 2 or 3 Swedish Pimple spoon for this approach because it gets you back in the “strike zone” as quickly as possible.
My friend Duane Deno who fishes Little Bay De Noc in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula throughout the winter, uses this tactic as well as working the smallest Jigging Rapala lures in deep water. It is very similar to the walleye tactics I mentioned, just on a smaller scale.
THE OLD “DOUBLE BAIT” TRICK
One of the deadliest live baits for perch is the “wiggler” which is a larvae type perch can’t resist. The problem with using this bait however is that they come off the hook so easily. If you get a bite in forty feet of water, but miss the fish, you might as well reel in immediately and put another wiggler on your hook. This wastes a lot of time. Perch move frequently and you have to work them as fast as you can while they are holding on your spot.
There is an approach that can help overcome this problem. Use a Swedish Pimple with a small treble hook as an example to see how this works. Load two of the hook points with at least two “spikes” (maggots) on each one. On the remaining hook point, put one spike on “sideways” first, then impale a wiggler. The spikes are a lot tougher and much harder to pull off. Even if you lose the wiggler, you still have bait down there working for you.
FINAL THOUGHTS
After you have a lengthy line of holes drilled, it can pay to go back to your starting point to re-check for active fish. Perch move a lot, and you might find some fresh action.
Lean toward orange! This color is frequently the best choice for perch.
The higher off bottom the marks on your locator show, the better. Those perch are more actively roaming and feeding. In a related observation, if you are going to run a stationary rod with a live minnow on it while jigging a second rod, use a large minnow and set it about six feet off bottom. Perch passing below your bait are more likely to see it.
And finally, keep a confident attitude! Move until you find fish and move again when the bite slows. You’ll work harder, but you’ll catch more fish.
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
PRIME TIME WALLEYES AND THE SEARCH FOR PERCH - PART ONE
PRIME TIME WALLEYES AND THE SEARCH FOR PERCH
By: Ray Hansen
I like getting out well before sunrise on winter fishing trips when I’m fishing a lake that holds both walleyes and perch. I usually have a specific target for walleyes, but perch are more scattered and require more searching. In this article I’ll pass along some details about a plan I use to catch both species.
WALLEYES ON STRUCTURE
If walleyes are found in a lake, you can usually count on a “sunrise bite” at daybreak. In most cases this feeding spree occurs on well-defined structure such as drop-offs, river mouths, rock piles, on and near fish cribs, or other distinct bottom features. Accordingly, you should have some target selected and be set up there before the sun comes up.
ATTRACT SOME ATTENTION
If you fire up your locator and it shows larger marks up off bottom, you probably have some actively feeding fish on your spot. You can work a jigging spoon such as a Swedish Pimple tipped with a minnow head, a thin slice of minnow meat, or the tail of a shiner or fat-head to entice a bite. If I intend to use a whole live minnow, I normally rig a split shot and plain hook. A spoon is “flashier” than other rigs, and can be given more action through rod manipulation. I use only pieces of minnows on them since an entire minnow throws off the spoon’s action too much.
As an alternative, run a lure like the Jigging Rapala which has a horizontal orientation as opposed to the spoon’s more vertical shape. On certain mornings walleyes will respond better to one than the other. With two anglers, run both lures to find out if a preference exists.
RATTLE IN SOME ACTION
The early morning bite is almost always “short but sweet” and as the sun gets higher, the fish become less active. You can sometimes extend this bite for an extra half-hour or so by using a noisy lure with a sharp ripping motion at five minute intervals on your spot. I have a second rod set up with a one-quarter ounce Lewis Rat-L-Trap lure for this purpose. Lower it to bottom, rip it sharply upward about three feet for several cycles, then reel it in and watch your locator. If your actions pull in any fish, you’ll see them. Jig your spoon rig with a softer action to see if you can tempt another “biter” or two. After that, it’s time to look for some perch.
End of part one - check in tomorrow for part two
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
By: Ray Hansen
I like getting out well before sunrise on winter fishing trips when I’m fishing a lake that holds both walleyes and perch. I usually have a specific target for walleyes, but perch are more scattered and require more searching. In this article I’ll pass along some details about a plan I use to catch both species.
WALLEYES ON STRUCTURE
If walleyes are found in a lake, you can usually count on a “sunrise bite” at daybreak. In most cases this feeding spree occurs on well-defined structure such as drop-offs, river mouths, rock piles, on and near fish cribs, or other distinct bottom features. Accordingly, you should have some target selected and be set up there before the sun comes up.
ATTRACT SOME ATTENTION
If you fire up your locator and it shows larger marks up off bottom, you probably have some actively feeding fish on your spot. You can work a jigging spoon such as a Swedish Pimple tipped with a minnow head, a thin slice of minnow meat, or the tail of a shiner or fat-head to entice a bite. If I intend to use a whole live minnow, I normally rig a split shot and plain hook. A spoon is “flashier” than other rigs, and can be given more action through rod manipulation. I use only pieces of minnows on them since an entire minnow throws off the spoon’s action too much.
As an alternative, run a lure like the Jigging Rapala which has a horizontal orientation as opposed to the spoon’s more vertical shape. On certain mornings walleyes will respond better to one than the other. With two anglers, run both lures to find out if a preference exists.
RATTLE IN SOME ACTION
The early morning bite is almost always “short but sweet” and as the sun gets higher, the fish become less active. You can sometimes extend this bite for an extra half-hour or so by using a noisy lure with a sharp ripping motion at five minute intervals on your spot. I have a second rod set up with a one-quarter ounce Lewis Rat-L-Trap lure for this purpose. Lower it to bottom, rip it sharply upward about three feet for several cycles, then reel it in and watch your locator. If your actions pull in any fish, you’ll see them. Jig your spoon rig with a softer action to see if you can tempt another “biter” or two. After that, it’s time to look for some perch.
End of part one - check in tomorrow for part two
Copyright Ray Hansen, 2008
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