MNtransplant
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Posts posted by MNtransplant
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Anyone gonna try it this weekend...i almost snuck out for an hour on Friday but decided to head home to clean the house top to bottom in preparation for hosting my wife's entire family this weekend....that scored me some huge points and likely got me a couple of longer fishing trips...total veteran move 😎😎.
Ill be cashing those chips in in a couple weeks...looks like some very steady warmer weather for the next 10 days or so.
Tight lines, and remember keep the wives happy its almost primetime!!
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See pictures and details in the link below. Great setup!
http://springfield.craigslist.org/spo/d/springfield-offseason-special-complete/7084939504.html
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Just putting a feeler out there to see if anyone would be interested in some hand tied clousers for the Spring whites and walleyes
Pricing would be as follows:
$3/each, $30/dozen for standard painted lead eyes
I only use premium Gamakatsu B10S stinger hooks. Mostly sizes 4,6, and 8 but can do other sizes as well.
Here's a sample of some of my ties...
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Whipped up a few more creations last night I was sorda all over the board..finished some more of the 1/8oz. tri-color vmc heads that produced trout on my last trip to Taneycomo, tied some 1/4oz. heads in a mickey fin pattern and a pink over white, and then did some 1/16oz. stuff for the white bass runs in a month or so.
What are some other good jig patterns for the rivers this spring? I have a lot of purple stuff that I tied last year (per recommendations from a few of fellas on the forum). I'm getting pretty comfortable with bucktail and marabou.
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Whipped up a few more creations last night I was sorda all over the board..finished some more of the 1/8oz. tri-color vmc heads that produced trout on my last trip, tied some 1/4oz. heads in a mickey fin pattern and a pink over white, and then did some 1/16oz. In chartreuse and white that can double duty for Taney and the white bass runs in a month or so.
What are some other good jig patterns on taney? Im getting pretty comfortable with bucktail and marabou.
Spring cant come fast enough!
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16 hours ago, bwcballer10 said:
Cabin fever got the best of me today. I put the jon boat in at the old bridge pillars below Aldrich. It went about as well as I figured it would, lots of casting and no bites. The guys in the boat next to me did catch 2 little whites. On a bright note there is plenty of water for them to run all the way to 215 if they want to right now. It felt great to be casting a line again, can't wait to try it again in a few weeks!
Hey man, I totally get it...i was out stomping around last year in February when it was Cold Cold....water was really low and hardly flowing but i still tried it.. better days ahead!
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5 hours ago, trythisonemv said:
It's that time again! White bass and Wally's! Good luck
I know the run depends on a lot of different factors but in my limited couple years of experience I've found that late March and almost the whole month of April seems to be better than early March. That being said, im planning my first trip for April 5th...obviously the first report I see in March Ill be out there 😊. I plan on hiking a fair stretch of the river (unless I find em right away) and hopefully find some spots open enough to backcast a flyrod but I will have my spinning gear as well.
If anyone wants to join, shoot me a message. Always fun to try some different strategies and learn new tricks!
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The box keeps filling up...good thing its double sided!
- BilletHead and kjackson
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Hey one other thing I thought was kinda cool from yesterday. I snagged up on a rock to the point where i had to do the bow and arrow trick...immediately after i snapped the line and freed the jig, i started reeling up the slack and whack! Scored my second fish. Pays to be on the bottom i guess
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9 hours ago, fishinwrench said:
If you don't use a loop knot (and most guys don't) then No it probably doesn't matter.
Your success with Clousers (or any other fly, really) will double, or even triple, if you attach to the tippet with a loop knot. Clousers are designed to jig. If a glide is what you want then there are way better flys for that presentation.
In the late Summer when Whites go on feeding blitzes it usually doesn't matter what fly you use, so a fly like a bucktail or standard Deciever that you can cast a mile, and do it quickly with the least amount of effort, is the best choice.
Great tip on the loop knot, ill have to try that
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Thank you guys for the input! I ended up with 4 rainbows today; 3 on a jig i tied and then I tried the flyrod thing for a while at outlet 1 and got one on a grey scud that I also tied. The first two on the jig were really nice fish. Setup was a 1/8 oz. VMC Mooneye Jig tied with 3 colors of bucktail. Fished it on a light action flueger combo with 4 lb vanish fluoro.
Felt great to get back out!
- nomolites, BilletHead, Quillback and 3 others
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Got the green light to fish tomorrow morning. I havent been to Taneycomo in almost a year, which is just sad... I'm going to the trophy area early early with high hopes of a walter. Any advice for fishing this area in the dark? Baits, tips, gear to bring...
Thanks in advance. Super excited to get out there!
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6 hours ago, fishinwrench said:
Looking good! 👍
My experience with bead chain is that it works great for shallow water crappie, but not so good for Whites....who tend to like things moving more quickly.
Your mileage may vary, let us know.
Thanks Wrench, appreciate the advice. I do have a great crappie lake back home id like to try these on.
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Gettin ready for the whites, tried some bead chain clousers tonight and I like how they turned out...cant wait to fish em! Anyone else tying with this junk weather?
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On 10/9/2008 at 11:41 AM, Bobwhite said:
Good morning folks,
The leaves are turning, here in the north country, and it reminds me of one of my favorite autumn reads. I hope that you'll enjoy it.
THE THURSDAY MORNING ART REVIEW
The Way Its Remembered
Memory is a man's real possession...In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.
Alexander Smith (1830 - 1867)
Every day in October started the same; Phil shuffled quietly past the couch where I slept to start the first pot of coffee, and I'd pull the sleeping bag up around my shoulders and turn toward the old stone fireplace. The fireplace was the best weather gauge we had, and I was anxious to see what the day might bring. If the dawn was windy, the embers of the last night’s fire would pulse with the gusts, glowing and fading like it was the cabin's ancient and beating heart. The flue was ill designed, and if a storm was on the horizon, the slightest bit of low pressure would send smoke back down the chimney. Phil claimed that he could predict the weather by how smoky the cabin was in the morning.
Set the coffee to boil, wipe the windowpane on the kitchen door to look at the thermometer, pull on a wool shirt, and fill the bird feeders. Phil was a man of habit, and I knew that next, he'd be headed across the yard for a couple of pieces of split oak or swamp ash. As quickly as I could, I'd throw a few pine knots on the dying coals, pull on my hunting pants and meet him at the wood shed. He'd never let me take his load. "I've got these," he'd say. "You grab a couple ‘a more."
By the time I’d filled the wood box on the porch, the frost had melted on my bare feet and they’d be coated with the fine Michigan sand. Standing in the yard and looking out over the South Branch, I'd listen to the river, smell the fire catch, the coffee boiling, and watch Phil on his way to the kennel for his setter, Pat. I remember calling him, Patrick just once. "It's Pat," Phil had told be on that occasion. "Pat, for Pat'ridge."
All the other dogs in camp stayed in the cabin, but Pat was happiest in his kennel. Perhaps he felt that he'd miss something important if he was inside, or maybe he just liked to sleep under the stars. Whatever the reason, it didn’t have anything to do with the lack of a bond between them. Pat was a one-man dog, and Phil was his man. Most likely, they were both just creatures of habit.
Phil would let Pat out of his kennel and then start toward the garden to see if the past night’s frost had done any damage to the few remaining vegetables. Pat would run ahead, circle the garden once to see if a raccoon or skunk had visited, and then stop, to look back over his shoulder at Phil. "All right," he’d say, and Pat's head would cock, his ears up. "Find me a bird."
Before the word, “bird” was out of Phil’s mouth Pat would be off through the bracken and over the hill towards the swamp. "Gonna be a fine day." Phil would say with a smile as we walked back to the cabin to make breakfast.
Today's image is an oil painting with the same title as the story, "The Way It's Remembered". It shows my friend Jay with his girl, "Libby" on a fine day, clear and crisp.
Phil was head "camp keeper", and breakfast was his specialty. The menu would vary; depending upon how smoky the cabin was in the morning. Bacon and eggs meant a fine day, clear and crisp. If the eggs and bacon came with flapjacks, you'd better take a rain jacket. Dan, Phil's son and my English professor, was just about to finish wrapping the lunch sandwiches in waxed paper, when Phil set the bacon and eggs on the table. "Make an extra sandwich for me, will you, son?" He asked. "I believe I'll be joining you boys today."
Lunch suddenly took on a whole new meaning, and we all threw ourselves into its preparation. Dan filled an old leather-covered flask of port and tossed it into the box. Fred, Dan’s good friend and hunting partner, lovingly wrapped one of his Cortland Apple pies into the folds of sackcloth. And, not knowing what else to do, I cut a bigger than usual chunk of Pinconning Cheddar off of the block in the icebox. "What will you shoot today, Pops?" Dan asked, as we gathered up our gear, checked our coat pockets for shells, and laced up the high boots.
"The Parker, I believe. I've got some old paper shells to shoot up. How's Pat been working for you?"
"Right as rain. He'll be glad to have you along today."
Because his eyes had started to cloud with age, Phil had been hunting less and less as the years past. It frustrated him to trip in the cover or not see the birds flush. Never mind that I was in my mid-twenties and was always tripping in the woods, and rarely saw a bird go out. Dan had stopped asking his father to join us as we planned the next day's hunt over dinner. It was easier for all of us that way.
Pat knew from the moment that the extra sandwich was wrapped that the day would be different. It was like old times, and he jumped up on Phil’s chest to have his ears scratched. We'd start with the cover around the Smith Bridge. There was an easy hillside there, on the west side of the river that we could hunt early in the morning with the sun at our backs. The South Branch was running low and clear as we walked from the parking area, back across the old bypassed bridge, and into the cover where the maples and aspen were a riot of color. The three dogs, Pat, and his parents, Jake and Belle, were out well ahead of us, their bells ringing as we dropped in shells, and gently snapped our guns closed. I’ll never forget the sound of Phil’s Parker when the action locked. It sounded like a bank vault being closed; more of a “snick” than a “snap.”
We knew from past experience that any birds that were pointed, would likely flush off of the hillside and cross the road, headed for the cover of the dark tamarack swamp down near the river. The low ground there was so full of blowdowns that it was almost impossible to walk, a perfect refuge. Dan, Fred, and I followed the dogs into the cover, while Phil walked the road and covered the escape route.
To a bird hunter, the only sound nicer than a dog's bell in a sun-dappled wood is the quiet when it stops. "Point here!" Fred yelled. "Pat's on. Where's Belle and Jake?"
"Gone, past the bird. He’s backing from the other side," I answered. "It’s pinned, but good."
"I'll go in," Dan said. "You guys get ready. Pops?"
The bird came out low and climbing to clear a blackberry thicket. Dan was swinging on it, and had the big, red phase male, dead to rights. It broke toward the road, following the contour of the hillside as it passed Fred. It was an easy shot, as grouse go, and he too was swinging smoothly with it. I was in no position to shoot and watched as neither of them did. The bird broke out of the cover of the aspen woods and dipped as it crossed the road to refuge.
Phil was late in picking it up, but reacted without the panic that we all felt. The Parker spoke once, and the bird bounced into the woods on the "safe" side of the road. Phil was backlit by the morning sun as he broke open his shotgun and bent down to take the bird from Pat’s mouth, so it was difficult to see clearly, but I remember them both smiling.
We all came off of the hillside to join Phil in the road and congratulate him. He held the big male grouse in one hand, and the 16 gauge in the other. It was a perfect balance, a perfect moment in time. "This was just right," he said. "And, this is the way that I want to remember it. I'm glad that you were all here for my last hunt."
We stood in silence trying to take it in, wanting to protest, but not ruin the moment. "Dan, this is for you; hunt it well and often," he said, handing him the Parker, a shell still in its left barrel.
The only sound was a late morning breeze building in the tops of the big white pines. "Bob, a dog like Pat deserves to be hunted, and I know that the two of you will get along. He's yours now."
I never remember staring so long nor hard at my boots. When I looked up he was smiling at me. "I think that I’ll just keep this." He said, slipping the grouse into his coat with a wink.
The next day I drove across the UP, to my home in Minnesota, with my first bird dog. Dan and Fred stayed on a few days to help Phil close the cabin, and no doubt, had a thoughtful trip home as well. Nearly a year passed, and I was at work thinking about seeing Phil and the guys in just a few days, when I got the call from Dan. "Phil died this morning," he whispered. “The sheriff stopped by to check in with him, and found him sitting on the front porch. The bird feeders had just been filled and the ice in his whisky hadn’t yet melted... he thought that Phil was napping. We’ll bury him in Jackson in a few days. I know he'd want you there. We'll all be going to the cabin afterwards. He'd want it that way.
I got to Jackson an hour after the funeral. Had I forgotten about the time change? Or, was it just too painful? I don't remember. I don't recall much about the following week either, except that no one said much, and that Dan made breakfasts, and Fred, the lunches.
Later that fall, Pat was poisoned, and I lost him too. I was weeping when I called my friend Jay. “I’ll be at your house in half an hour.” He said. "The woodcock are in, and you need to get out."
We spent that day chasing woodcock, and tumbling the occasional grouse behind Jay's setter. It was hard for me not to think of Pat and Phil while in the woods, but I'm sure that this was the very reason that Jay had taken me to his best cover. I realize, now, that he meant for me to remember them, and remember them well. That night as we drove home, I watched woodcock flight against the dusking sky, and knew that everything was as it should be. For, while Phil had given Pat to me for keeps, Pat must have always thought of it as just a short-term loan.
Thanks for visiting,
Bob White
Hey is this from a book? Id love to read on if so
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On 1/9/2020 at 12:25 PM, ollie said:
I tie a lot of jigs and only use the collarless ones as well and I don't paint the head on them either.
Thanks Ollie, do you have a reasoning/theory for not painting?
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2 hours ago, fishinwrench said:
You nailed it.
Now quit pretending that you don't know what your doing. 😁
Ha! Thanks Wrench, ive watched a lot of videos but never tried one myself. I think ill make some more!
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Here's my first attempt at a clouser. #4 hook, small eyes and purple over white with some flash. Gimme some feedback!!
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Hello and happy New Years gang,
I got back to MN for some nice crappie action thru the ice last week and now im getting the itch to start prepping for the whites this spring.
For me that starts with whipping up some new jigs and flies. Ive got some materials to try clousers this year and i also plan on doing some maribou and bucktail jigs so a few questions for the fly and jig tie-ers:
1. What hook and eye size seem to work best for clousers for whites? I bought some size 4 hooks and medium eyes that look about right but tell me if you've had better luck going bigger or smaller.
2. What style/brand of jigs are the best for tying bucktail and maribou jigs?..i think i just used some generic ones from acadamy that did pretty well last year but open to some new ideas.
3. Lastly, I noticed while ice fishing on Christmas day that we had to fish a jigging spoon with a rattle or we wouldnt get bit..no rattle=no bites. Im assuming a rattle might help in the dirty water of the little sac at times as well. Have any of you guys had luck finding a jig with rattles that doesnt get in the way of tying?
Thanks in advance for the help.
Also, i know its a long ways off but I'm tentatively planning a trip to the little sac on the Friday before Easter. If anyone wants to meet up or invite me on their boat for a few hours i could probably throw in a half dozen jigs in exchange😄
Good luck in 2020!
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That is a beautiful boat! Wish i was in the market for one..perfect fish and ski for the family..and a Champion to boot!
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Is the fun over with? Whats the latest the whites stay in the rivers?
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Man those are some beautiful smallies! What a blast...any advice on where to target some from the shore?? No boat..
Sportsman's Factory Outlet
in Buy - Sell - Trade
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Has anyone been to the Lews shop in the northeast business park recently or are you going soon?
I know they usually have some sort of rod specials going on and i think it was the speed stick tp1's for $40 or $50.
Just trying to confirm before heading out there later this week