RiverBums: The adventures of a daughter-daddy duo

RiverBums: The Adventures of a Daughter-Daddy Fishing Duo

SlideShow

Monday, December 19, 2011

The Last Cast

It may come as a surprise to many of you that despite our rough exteriors, tough edges, and anti-social demeanor, we are poets at heart. But, of course, a fisherman has to be. After all, a fisherman is really a hopeless romantic who is incidentally full of hope and determination and passion. Under all that gear, mud, scars, and cigar smoke are two simple poets. Searching for the greatest fish. Casting the perfect cast. Hoping until all hope on this watery world has run out and all that is left is a rod and a cubs hat lying upon some stone in the dessert. And so, we would like to debut a poem about the possibility of never fishing again. You may be asking yourself, why would the Riverbums write a poem about the Last Cast? A poem that inevitably sums up the feeling of what your last cast may feel like. That feeling of never being able to fish again.

Therefore, we would like you to close your eyes (after you read this of course) and imagine you have been in a wheel chair your whole life. God comes down and lays his hand on your shoulder and says, "My child, I know you have been crippled your whole life and will never walk again. But I am going to grant you a minute. A minute to use your legs. To be free." After doing so, you stand and realize you have 59 seconds left. Do you just stand there? No, you RUN! As fast as you can, as far as you can. All the while soaking in the glory of the moment. Knowing that in just a few seconds you will fall down and be crippled again. But, you do not waste that moment. You live it, until you cannot live it, anymore. For we never know which cast is our last. Death is inevitable, accidents are possible, and old age sucks. But, we can always savor that last cast...is this my last cast?...or is this my last cast?

The Last Cast
Written by: Dad


Each pressing feeling of fall, the colors now reminiscent
of pursuing winters, nurtures my growing suspicions.
The sharp reminder of fewer catches brought by cooling waters,
and colder winds with natures submissions.

Once, one spring’s anticipation now looms as frosty fears.
Shall my feathered tackle now be found of
thirst and coated dust and distant years?

Will it flow? Shall the fish swim or soar without me?
Could this be, must it be, as it shall be, one day past?
Oh that final flip, jerk n spin.
Will I ever know…or just remember,
that last cast?

 


Until next year, we'll see ya on the other side of the river.  We hope!


Cast Away,

AC & Dad

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Fall Fishing- More of the Falls, less of the Fish

It has been some time since we last wrote on the blog. You would be surprised to learn that we do have jobs other than fishing. Yes, we know it may be hard to believe that someone would hire a Riverbum to work for them. Don't they get distracted on an hourly basis? Day-dreaming about bass, cool running water,  and the smell of fresh cigar and pine trees? Well, yes, but just don't tell our bosses!

But despite our grueling work schedule and daily responsibilities, we still found time to cast away and fish the Midwest  In the first week of November we found ourselves on the road to Michigan in the White River. A good 4 hour drive from home, this particular day was probably one of the coldest in November. By 8 am it was 34 degrees and arriving at the river we quickly hopped out to check the water level and then hopped back in the car. For there is something you should probably know about us RiverBums. We don't mind the scorching heat, blinding sun, and occasional bugs. Because we are always prepared with water, sunglasses, hats, and of course, every outdoorsmen's favorite tool, deet. But, despite our winter waders, wader jackets, wind breakers, wool socks, and sweats, there is no proper warming apparel for the HANDS. Surprisingly the main apparatus of the human body for fishing is the only thing that freezes in the winter due to the lack of proper patented apparel lines of gloves. What we are trying to say is, you can't cast and reel with any glove or mitten on the market today. It's just too damn hard and you'll probably lose the fish or not catch one at all while wearing a pair.

So we braved the cold on this fine Saturday in November and fished the day with hundreds of casts and 0 fish. Our conclusion: This river is rarely fished in the Fall. Typical trout season for the White is early Spring. So you may ask, why did we drive all this way when we knew we weren't going to catch any fish? Because, it is a beautiful river and we enjoy hoping that there just may be a trout waiting for us...

AC on the White River

Huge Mushroom on the White River
(A great source of protein had we been stranded. Shroom salad)


Dad casting on the White


The next weekend we visited our close and personal friend, the Milwaukee River. Just an hour drive from home, we made it to our usual late fall, early winter spot at 11 am. We read in one of our trout fishing magazines (The Angler) that trout and steelies don't usually start hitting until mid day, when the sun has had some time to hit the service. Despite the trout and steelies liking cold water, they still seem to respond to the rays of the sun and enjoy their meals most likely around noon. Thankfully, the salmon fishermen were no where to be found as the salmon had died off and the weather was getting colder. We had the river to ourselves for the rest of the day. However, the water was about 3 feet higher than usual. So, we stuck close to the banks, as the Milwaukee is a fast moving river, even when low. And although AC is really quite tall for her gender, she was cautious and made sure to cast close to branches in case of a quick undertow...


The next weekend we decided to try 2 new rivers. So we packed up early on the last Saturday of November and headed to Two Rivers Wisconsin to fish unfamiliar and  uncharted trout waters. Their names, Two Rivers. Man, that took a lot of effort on the first settlers. Well you can't blame them, it isn't like there is a river naming book or something. These Two Rivers, excuse the pun, were situated in the back farmlands of Eastern Wisconsin. Deer, fox and hunters are prominent species found in these lands. We ran into dozens of orange clad, gun hugging, packer fans with one thing on their mind. Venison! Unfortunately, we came unprepared as we geared up in our green and black apparel. Yes, folks, we meshed right in with the scenery. Every minute or so, we would hear a gun shot and the Riverbums would hit the ground like Tom Cruise jumping out of a car just about to blow up. Mission Impossible Riverbum.

We had learned of these Two Rivers from out fly fishing Wisconsin book. But, we should note that this book as written in 2000. Therefore, as it had been about 11 years since the authors expeditions around the country and research on the rivers, not all the information is still relevant. The rivers have gone from a reported sandy, stone bottom to muddy and shallow. Seems that after many a dry summers in Wisconsin, these rivers suffered major blows and were unable to recover properly. While there may be some hefty amounts of bass still lingering in these waters during the peaks of summer. The trout have all but packed up and moved on to bluer waters. Once a bountiful trout haven, now a barren wasteland. But, it was worth the try. At least we know that there are smallies in these waters. And you know what that means. A return visit from the Riverbums, in June...
Dad casting in one of the Two Rivers

Snow falling on Ac's line as she casts for a trout

Old bridge from the 19th century. Then, used for farming. Now, perfect habitat for hiding trout.

Possible Hunter Victim-Dad fishing among the brush.

Riverbums do not partake in. No friends, we do not camp out on frozen lakes, in heated tents, with 4 inch rods, and stand over a foot wide hole, drinking beer. We will just leave that to the residents of Two Rivers, Wisconsin.

So, until next time... We'll see ya on the other side of the River!

Cast Away,

AC & Dad




Monday, October 24, 2011

Father Does Best...

If there is one thing about fishing that has been constant throughout the years, that is determination. From the Native Americans gorging hooks off the coasts of California some 3,000 years ago to Simon Peter the great fishermen that knew Jesus and helmed his own vessel to Brad Pitt acting as though he were fishing in the movie, A River Runs Through It. All those historical characters were determined to catch a fish by day's end. So, without further ado, and any more hesitation, we would like to dedicate this week's award of determination to none other than the big bum himself, Dad. That is because in these past 3 weeks Dad has trumped AC in not only amount of fish but size! And what does Dad have to say to this... "Experience my dear AC Watson, it is not so elementary!" 

Weekend 1: French Creek River
So with enough experience and determination for a lifetime, we set out to the French Creek River in Iowa. After purchasing our Iowa passes (Open trout season all year long) and nearly forgetting the coffee we embarked on our 5 1/2 hour trip at 3am. Despite the fact that the GPS seemed to malfunction and take over like a scene out of 2001:A Space Odyssey ... "RiverBums, just what do you think you're doing RiverBums...?"  we actually enjoyed the scenic detour in the back roads of North western Wisconsin and North eastern Iowa. The river ran right through beautiful hills, private farms, and tons of cows. We're not kidding, at one point, AC almost snagged a black one with a famous one of her colossal casts. 

Dad at the French Creek in Iowa

We had heard from the clerk at our local orvis shop that this here, French Creek, was stocked with brown and rainbow trout. And he wasn't kidding. The minute we pulled up, hopped out and made our way down to the river, we saw 5 dozen schools of trout just waiting to be netted. But, what the clerk forgot to mention was how skittish and smart these frickn trout were. 

Every time we cast out a fly, the trout squirmed away, acting too proud for our flies. No wonder they call this the FRENCH creek river..."Wee, we are da trout dat occupy de franch river and we do not like yor emerican crap you call flies. Be gone you pathetic air breavers and take yor ugly faces wit you." Leave it to the french to run away with their tails between their gills at the slightest indication of invasion. 

The river was very shallow and clear, which meant that sneaking up on them was going to be difficult. Unlike smallies, trout are easily frightened and with clear water like the french, they can see when someone approaches. Not to mention the dozens of cows that sip from the water and make them scurry about. These trout were also use to several fishermen as we had heard from the grapevine (A local grape farmer, no joke!) that this river had seen it's share of country suitors with rods high in hand. But, we fished it anyways, and after a couple hours of nothing, we moved on.

Fall Colors in Iowa

Caterpillar on it's way to the river
(This is the same patterned wooly bugger fly we were using)

Just a few miles down the road ran the Upper Iowa river. It was truly an angler's dream to have 2 beautiful rivers nearly side by side. This time, we left our fly rods in the car and went for the bait casters. We found a nice cozy wading spot beneath a bridge. We hiked down and started casting up river. We noticed pretty quickly that we were getting hits but nothing was biting. So, we hiked back up to the bridge to see what was hitting our lures. Turns out there were about 50 huge carp wading in the shade of the bridge catching things floating down the river. We stood up there, what seemed to be a good hour, just watching their maneuvers. If there's one thing that kills a fisherman it's being able to see the fish and not catch it!

However, after making our way down under the bridge again, Dad was able to land a smallie with a hollow belly pattern. The bass was trolling behind the carp picking off eggs and food scraps...

Dad's well earned smallie on the Upper Iowa River

Dad releasing the smallie

We stood casting in that one spot for a good 20 minutes until we realized nothing else was going to bite us. So we made our way back up. However, on our hike up, Dad found a small path that followed the river down a bit more. Dad took the path and instructed AC to go to the top of the bridge. Once the bums were in their designated spots, Dad casted to where AC motioned to behind the carp. AC could see the smallies waiting some 10 feet behind the carp, bobbing for eggs. So, AC pointed for Dad to cast and he would cast in hopes of catching a smallie. It may seem like cheating, having one bum as the lookout and one fishing. But, we were desperate. And a RiverBum will do just about anything in desperate times. All of a sudden, Dad was hooked and reeled in what he hoped was a decent smallie. But upon retrieval and further inspection, the fish turned out to be an ugly, smelly and revolting carp...

Dad among the weeds with his last prize Carp as AC shoots from atop the bridge.
(It's no coincidence this picture didn't turn out well, carp stink!)

So with one smallie and a carp, we packed up and headed home from Iowa. And the score was AC : 0  Dad: 2.

Weekend 2/Day 1: Milwaukee River 

It is a rare occasion for a RiverBum to sleep past the wee hours of 4am. But, since our fishing destination for the day was only Milwaukee, we figured a few extra hours of beauty sleep would be good for Dad. Ok, so maybe it would take a whole months worth of beauty sleep to fix that face, but atleast he's the one who's catching all the fishing! Ouch, AC is gonna need a bandaid for that one.

So after a snappy one hour drive, we made it to the Milwaukee River, in hopes of some steelies. The spot we usually wade into is quite contrary to our remote and scenic wade in areas of Western/Northern Wisconsin, Michigan, and Iowa. We park in a power plant lot beside about 4 or 5 other fishermen's cars. This time of the season is perfect for Salmon. They are laying their eggs and then dying off and fly fishermen flock here to snag them. We say Yuck! There is nothing worse than a rotting salmon, ok maybe AC not catching any fish. OUCH, someone get that girl some antibitotics! Call us crazy, but we don't think standing in one spot for several hours trolling an orange egg pattern all day and POSSIBLY snagging a salmon is fun. But, we realize there are fishermen out there who do enjoy that. And we say, "Thank you God! All the more for us!" Cause while those BoringBums snag salmon, we fight for the Steelies.

The water was a perfect height and the temperature was just right for steelies. The only problem was that it was a bit early for them. Steelies would start making their way from Lake Michigan down through the Milwaukee as Fall and winter approach. But, we were opptomistic as we casted out our hollow belly patterns that had worked so well for us last season (Dad caught his giant brown here in the winter and AC caught her rainbow in late Fall, both on hollow belly trout patterns.)

AC waded one sit of the river as Dad took the other. They weren't going to let any water pass them by. But, as time went by, we became seperated and at one point could not see eachother as we were so fixed on catching the first steelie of the season. But, it was Dad's scream from afar that snapped AC out of her concentrated state and had her fleeing in the water towards him. Bear? Serial Killer? A mirror? What could have Dad screaming in such fear??.......

A smallie! Yes my friends, on a day of hoping and praying for steelies, Dad goes and catches himself a smallie. And in 40 degree water in early October. What have the waters come too?
Dad's smallie on the Milwaukee
(Took the picture himself)

Dad couldn't hold the smallie much longer for AC so he snapped the photo himself. Good, cause AC wouldn't have believed him otherwise. So for the day a surprising, AC: 0    Dad: 1   Despite Dad being the champ for the day, AC was the one with the fans. A huge stalker salmon was on AC's tail for much of the day. If you notice the fin popping out the water as AC snapped the picture below. A peeping fish indeed as it finally scurried away at the sight of her flash. No, not that flash!




Huge salmon following AC

Day 2: ************* River (Sorry hafta kill ya)

So you are probably thinking, why did they go back to the ********** river (Sorry hafta kill)? Well, we found ourselves checking the weather late Saturday night in this particular town where it was going to be a high of 85 and sunny. So, we packed up, woke up around the usual time (3 am) and made our way to the best smallie river we know...


Dad uprooting a tree and boulder.

So, call it magic or voodoo or just plain great fishing, but we caught close to a dozen smallies this day. AC finally caught a fish in over a 2 week dry spell and the Bums were happy to be back. They had thought that the ********** River (Sorry, hafta kill ya) was in it's hybernation stage and that the Bums would have to go yet another 6 months without a smallie fix. But, the almighty fishing God granted the Bums one last safe passage and were allowed a few trophies...




After 8 hours of fishing and a decent score of smallies, we headed home. The score was finally evened with    AC: 5   Dad: 7.

Weekend 3: Return to Milwaukee River

Mid October, cool temperatures and rain. The Bums are a bit bummed out since we couldn't make the drive to Michigan on account of 40 degree weather, 30 mph winds, and rain. That's fall fishing for ya, my friends. So, we decided to try our hand at the Milwaukee again. Word on the river was that the steelies were hitting. But, salmon season was ending and the steelies were only in the mood for eggs since there was plenty around. We didn't want to give in and went with our casters again with hollow bellies. When we arrived at our first spot, we noticed a crowd we didn't want to be apart of...


Can you count how many fishermen are fishing one spot? We can and it's too frickn much!

Now it's time to play "Fishing for a date." This is a new segment of this blog and due to the increase of online dating sites, we thought we would help out those lonely fishermen. So we would like to introduce you to the lovely man in the picture below, Juanes.  Don't let Juanes' black crocs, rolled up sweat pants, and $20 spinner rod fool you. Juanes enjoys long walks on the beach, romantic dinners at Popeyes, and shopping at the local Walmart. He isn't one to shy away from an adventure as he can spend hours in his trusty lawn chair on a rock fishing for salmon below the rapids. Juanes isn't just looking for the perfect date, he is looking for the perfect life partner that owns their own lawn chair. Oh and perferably women who can cook fish...

Ladies, this one is single and "fishing" for a date...

 So, we weren't so much in the mood for chatting with the bum next to us and found a more remote spot to fish. You see, with the salmon dying off, fishermen flock to this river because it's all the more incentive to catch the fish and cook them for dinner. Since the fish are dying, why not keep and eat them anyways. Ya, if you like half rotting salmon and a little mercury! You could have left your rod at home and just grabbed a salmon from the water...
Salmon dying off for the year

The smell was everywhere. The whole river smelled of dying salmon. And if you want to know the difference between a fresh salmon and a dying one, you just have to smell it. The fresh salmon were actually quite vivacious, splashing in the rapids and almost pink with sharp silver lines. The dying ones are greenish brown like the one above. Hence, the dead aspect!

And we're we going to smell a salmon or what? Cause just as we got in the river, Dad caught a 25 lbs. salmon on hollow belly! Take that you egg troll fishermen!...


A good 10 minute fight with the salmon

Dad's 25 lbs. salmon

The best part about this catch, was the fly fisherman behind Dad. Notice the first picture of Dad netting the salmon, in the left hand side is a wide mouthed flyman trolling eggs. He had been there all morning and Dad caught one on his 4th cast. Classic RiverBum!

So until next time, we'll see ya on the other side of the river...

Cast Away,

AC & Dad



Friday, September 30, 2011

What do Birthday Trout, BUMper Stickers & Dirty Jerky all have in common?

What do Birthday Trout, Bumper Stickers & Dirty Jerky all have in common? Nothing really. We figured the title would draw you in and dupe you into reading our blog. Can you blame us? But in all seriousness, all three have been photographed and officially documented within this acknowledged digital layout of funny quips and witty facts that we call our humble abode of a blog. Don't believe us? Well, if you read this blog post in its entirety, all the way to the end, without skipping anywords, dwelling on each picture and its caption for at least a minute at a time, and adding a comment at the end...then you will know for sure. Ha, we did it again! A marketing degree really does come in handy. Ok, we'll stop at that. We don't mean to COKE with your minds and GATORADE you into continually reading this blog with subliminal messaging. We truly appreciate your RED BULL and hope that you enjoy this blog on a weekly basis not because you are TEQUILA too, but because you take pleasure in reading about our riverbumming experiences and look forward to learning more about BUSCH LIGHT. Hey, anyone thirsty?

So as fall was officially rung in on Friday, we found ourselves in search of some decent trout fishing. We rented a black buick and headed to the beautiful state of Michigan..

Saturday- Day 1

The Riverbums were a bit hazy on this particular Saturday morning popping aspirins and sucking back V8 tomato juice (A full serving of vegetables in every swig). Let's just say Dad was the bell of the ball at his co-workers' wedding and AC had a little too much fun with the locals and a bottle of Don Julio in Pilsen. Despite the licquor up and lacquer down, no hangover would silence these bums. So we packed up and headed out to the Pere Marquette River in Baldwin, MI.

With an average water temp of 50-54 degrees, the Saturday was a perfect day for salmon and trout. Known to be stocked with brookies, browns, steelhead rainbows and of course salmon, the PM is one of the most popular and crowded trout streams in Michigan. Our mission: Steelhead, Our choice of weapon: Casting rods, Our choice of lure: Rainbow patterned hollow bellies with black jigs. We have had success with these lures in the past with steelhead in the Milwaukee river. The lake run steelies love these realistic looking treats and they range in all sizes and colors. Therefore, they are a great lure to use in any steelie creek, streem, or wide river.

Steelies love these hollow bellies on casting rods

We accessed the river at Gleason's Landing off of 62nd ave and we're we shocked or what? The parking lot was packed with every kind of fisherman and boater you could find... fly fishermen, bait fishermen, canoers, kayakers, even skinny dippers! We knew right away that this was going to be a tough day. Despite the fact that this river is one of the most famous in Northern US, it also was the last weekend of regulation trout season in this river. The last day is September 30th and everyone wanted one final taste of the Pere Marquette's generous taleful. But, with clear skies and a bearable temperature of 55 degrees we waded out into the artificial, non-fly zone area, sporting our hope high for a big steelie (or two!)

AC Plugging for Steelies in the Pere Marquette

Within an hour or so, we waded past dozens of fishermen and dozens of boaters. In one chance encounter we ran into a father and son walking along the path that was carved alongside the river. This is one reason we choose rivers that are hard to access and pathless..because that means less people. The son was dragging behind him about 6 salmon in a net singing some sesame street song and screaming to his father to slow down cause the fish were too heavy. The father noticed us and pointed out a log jam that was harboring 20-25 salmon just around the bend. "The log jam is just full of them there," the man pointed, "Just stick a bobber on and an orange egg sack and wait." 

Bobber? Egg sack? Wait? Just wait there? This was like listening to nails scratch on a chalk board or watching Elaine dance on Seinfeld or seeing Charlie Sheen's surprise appearance on the Emmy's or being locked in a chokey filled with scorpions as water fills up quickly...PAINFULL! That was the last thing we wanted to hear. The idea of just standing in one place, trolling plastic egg sacks for hours on end to catch one of the slowest fish you can possibly catch in a river. Not thank you. Just cause we're RiverBums doesn't mean we only beg on one river corner my friends? Hell no! These are RiverBums that make an appearance in every nook and cranny of a river, casting thousands of times wherever there is water, in hopes of catching more than one fish. We were not going to waste the day away "snagging salmon" as they say. 

So after realizing that we were too early for lake run steelies and the river was just too damn crowded, and we didn't want to sit in one spot and snag a salmon and we were sick of seeing people and we couldn't stand we decided to wade out after 5 hours on the river  in search of some ice cold beers!

Of course, AC never leaves a river without first running into some type of animal or insect. And this time it was a wolf spider that hopped out and greeted AC with a friendly eight legged hello...  

Wolf Spider that crawled on AC's waders!


After spending an hour playing with the creepy crawler, AC joined Dad on the wade out and they headed to the town of Ludwig to the famous Brewing Company Inc for local beer and homemade reubens. On our way to the restaurant we stopped by the harbor and shot photos of the SS Spartan...

That's one big LakeBum

Sunday-Day 2

So after a night in iconic ludwig of AC wooping Dad's butt in air hockey in the hotel's "Game room"(Yes, this hotel had a game room!) we headed off at 5 am for the Au Sable river in Grayling, Michigan.  Another famous trout river of Michigan, the Au Sable runs nearly 130 miles across the state. Did you know that Au Sable means "the sand" in french? Well, it does and no surprise why this river was named such. A nice sandy bottom with beautiful curves around forest preserves and farm land. 

So we grabbed our fly rods, popped on some ant and hopper patterns and fished just above the fly only zone in Grayling. After 2 hours casting, Dad and AC caught 4 HUGE brookies...


AC's GIGANTIC Birthday Trout!
(Hey, big or small, it was a trout worth 23 years!)

Another HUGE Brown Trout!


We know what you are thinking? Man, can these fishermen reel them in or what? Ok, ok, so they weren't the trophies we were hoping for, but cut us some slack line here... they were our first trout of the season and don't worry... their are bigger ones where these don't come from. And we can say this with confidence as we learned right there on the river (From a local fly fisherman fishing the Au Sable) that all the biggies had been fished out. Damn! Didn't they get the memo that the RiverBums were coming? Guess not... So why was the local fishing, knowing the big fish were all gone, fishing anyways?... he says his wife doesn't know the big fish are gone and that gives him a few peaceful moments on a beautiful river... ALONE. Amen to that!



Birthday Girl's first cast on the Au SAble

And the last... for now...

Fall Colors above a RiverBum
So we concluded our Michigan weekend with 2 new rivers under our wader belts, 4 tiny trout and AC one year older. Of course our Bumming travels wouldn't be complete without a little highway humor. So let's us introduce you to a new segment of the RiverBums blog... ROAD RANTS...

Imagine you are driving down a peaceful farm road after a beautiful
day of fishing with your daughter. The Vapors come on over the radio with 
"Turning Japanese" and this sign appears...

It's official folks...jerkying your meat is now socially acceptable year round!


A Birthday Bum present from Dad


So as an official team, we have decided to put our name down in writing and create bumper stickers... We hope to see a BUMper sticker on every BUMper in the nation. So, if you like what we do and see what you like, let us know your favorite colors and you could be the next Bum to own a RiverBUMper sticker!
AC Modeling near our new removable "RiverBums" BUMper sticker after fishing the Pere Marquette. 
(Orders are now being accepted)

Until next time...we'll see ya on the other side of the river!

Cast Away,

AC & Dad











Thursday, September 15, 2011

If you don't get snagged, you aren't fishin hard enough...

Now, although we are excellent casters, from time to time we do seem to get "caught" up in things other than fish. A floating log, a tree, a kayaker. Sometimes, whether you want to blame it on the wind or not, a good cast can turn ugly. As RiverBums we repeatedly find ourselves standing up to our chests in a strong current and casting as the water grabs us. And as important as fishing is to us, not drowning comes first, surprisingly. But we feel that if you aren't, as Dad's father and AC's grandfather would say, "Fishing for squirrels" then you're not risking anything. Caught in a tree? Excellent! Snagged on a boulder? Fantastic! Lipped a rafter? You're a Pro! Although it may seem like the "wade of shame" as a RiverBum is seen wading across river pulling down branches to break free a lure from a tree, it's actually a demonstration of determination. Yes, a showmanship of eager beaverness, a creative yet enterprising angler, an out-of-the-tackle-box cast, a zealous zinger. No matter the challenge, a RiverBum will cast in hopes of catching that fish, yes that one right there. No, that's a log, we mean that one over there! 

So, it was a weekend at our all time prized river where trying hard never felt so good and sometimes that awry cast produced a smallie. It was a 79 degree and clear skies 2 day fishing expedition on the ********* river (Sorry, hafta kill ya) where we sweat hard for the smallies and waded new waters...

Day 1- Saturday


We would like to thank the academy for their nomination and the producers, Shwartzman and Weiss, we couldn't have paid for this without you... Ok, so the video may not be award winning, but the camera man has skills and you have to admit... that was fun to watch, wasn't it? 

The reason we decided to film this particular spot was because we were sure a fish was going to bite...it's the Crazy-Ass Pool. On a mid July Saturday, we would normally catch anywhere between 10 and 12 smallies in this pool. But, with the cooler water and September blues fast approaching, we only caught 3. So, we were lucky the camera caught anything! But, Saturday still turned out to be a prosperous day of smallie snagging with about 30 fish caught all together...

Dad with a dark lunker caught hiding below a boulder!

AC reels in a smallie while wading! Mad skills!

Dad plugging a pool

AC fell in the water for this one!



Dad hooked on a smallie!

AC working the boulders!
(This is known as the Lewis & Clark pose! She has discovered smallies)


Look at the belly on this one...
(No, the fish not the RiverBum!)




Day 2- Sunday

After a good night's sleep in a holiday inn, we set off for another successful day in the river. With another beautiful day of 79 degrees and clear skies we waded in, in hopes of a great LAST day in the ************ river. We knew this would be our last chance of smallies with next weekend looking at 50 degree weather. So, we were in the water by 9 am and fished as late as we could...

The Biggest boulder we have ever seen on the ********* river!

AC's first smallie of the day!

Dad with his, "This fish isn't big enough for a photo" face!


Although we tried all sorts of lures on this particular day; assorted twistys and top water, we quickly realized that the smallies weren't having any top water. So we retired our torpedoes for the weekend and stuck to yellow twisty tails on eyed orange jigs. We kept the casts close to structure (boulder, along a dead tree, inside weeds) and let the lures sink down in the pools. Since the water was cooler, the smallies weren't hitting the lures as hard as usual, but a few slow jerks at the bottom of the pool and the trap was set...



AC with a giant smallie caught inbetween 2 boulders! TIGHT!



Where the hell are my pliers?





We didn't want to come to the realization that eventually we would have to leave this river and drive home before it was too dark. Alas, we made our last casts, took one last look at the river, and trekked out. But, as we came closer and closer to the parking lot we noticed hundreds of, dun DUn DUN, PEOPLE! And their bikes. They were partaking in a triathlon and we happened to be parked in the middle of their transition from bike to run...



So, after swiping a few shimano bikes, we dressed down, packed up and headed home. Both Bums tried not to look back at the river, but they couldn't help it. Dad drove to a more recluse area of the river and they got out to watch the rapids as the sun began to set. We heard bagpipes playing as we hopped back into the car and watched river diminish in our rear view mirror. So we say goodbye to the smallie fishing of the ********* river and hello to trout season! But, not until we try our northern baits in the FOX river this coming weekend. So, keep your blog eyes peeled for our tale of the Fox river coming soon to a screen near you...Until next time, we'll see ya on the other side of the river!

Cast Away,

AC & Dad