Looking for better second half
Summer’s second half is well underway and I believe I have invested enough hours on the water to sit in judgment of the 2016 fishing season.
It’s not great.
Not horrible, either. But I grudgingly admit I’ve had years that have been far better. A few, perhaps, were worse, though I would qualify 2016 as slower than most.
What gives?
It may be me. It may be the weather. It may be the conditions. I am not sure.
I am sure, of course, that it isn’t the fish. They aren’t the reason I’m not catching them. The fish are still out there. They still must eat.
An angler’s top job is to find the fish and figure them out. For whatever reason, I’m only fair to middling in that task this year.
A bit of introspection may provide a few clues.
I started late. The early April polar blast diverted my attention from my customary early-season trips to Mosquito Creek Reservoir. It’s a lake where over the past 30 years I could count on getting in tune with bass and walleyes early and then follow them into May.
This year, however, I got out to Mosquito only one time before the end of April and it was a day to forget. So I never really established positive vibes and momentum.
What else?
I fished a few lakes in April and May that I never fish early. Berlin and West Branch, for me, are good places in June, but I have a hard time getting dialed in before the tree buds break into full leaf. So again, I didn’t get going on a positive note.
Another factor is just bad luck. I do have a sense the stars aren’t aligned in my favor.
In June, I hooked a giant smallmouth bass on Lake Erie east of Ashtabula. The fish would easily have topped five pounds. But I’ll never know its true size because the line broke.
What kind of luck was that? My line hardly ever breaks. I’m very careful about knots and abrasions. The monster smallie was in open water, no obstacles to cause trouble. But the line broke nonetheless.
As a matter of fact, I’ve had bad luck just about every time I have visited the water.
One particular day stands out in particular. It was the Saturday of the Muransky Companies United Way Bass Classic. Teammate Ted Suffolk and I worked hard to find quality largemouths and finally seemed to have zeroed in on an area where big fish lived.
I was chunking a crankbait when a big bass struck. I could hardly turn the giant. Finally, I worked it close to the boat and Ted was ready with the net. The fish dove and pulled free.
A moment later, a 4-pound bass grabbed the crankbait and another fight was on. Just as the fish loomed into view, it opened its mouth, shook its head and the bait popped out.
Barely five minutes later, same story. Another bass struck, churned and shook the hook.
For whatever reason – late start, poor choices, bad luck – the first half of my season has been disappointing.
I’m pretty sure the worst is over. Anglers are the eternal optimists. Now’s the time to dig in and get going for a successful second half.