The Switch Went On

[Al Agnew]

As Mary was crossing the concrete slab part of the bridge at Mount's on Big River after dropping me off there, she watched me catch the first fish of the day right at the edge of the slab. She stopped, lowered her window, and said, "Looks like it's going to be a great day!"

Well, any day on the river is a great day. But I wasn't quite so sure about the fishing. There had been a car at the take-out at Leadwood Access, and a truck at the put-in, and I was afraid somebody was ahead of me. And this is not my favorite stretch of the river. I suppose I've caught fewer big fish from this stretch than any other. The first mile has some good habitat, but then you get into a combination of over-fertilized water from cattle which causes very heavy aquatic weed growth, and altered river channel from gravel dredging nearly 50 years ago leaving some areas with nothing but shallow bedrock pools. Once the river finally starts to recover from all that, it reached the Terre du Lac picnic ground, and gets heavy pressure in that area.

After that first fish, a 10 inch largemouth, the bites came few and far between, and they were almost all largemouth. I'd gotten on the water around 8 AM, and it was nearly noon when I looked ahead and saw two guys floating and fishing at the end of the next pool. At that point, I'd gone nearly three miles, and had caught 7 largemouth and one 8 inch smallie. It was shaping up to be one of the worst days I'd had on Big River in a long time.

I decided to stop and take a long lunch, and let those guys get farther ahead. I parked myself on a little shady gravel bar with a nice clean sloping bank where I could recline and relax while eating, got a Coke, a bag of potato chips, a couple slices of cheese, and a hunk of Oberle sausage out of the cooler, and prepared to spend at least a half hour. It actually turned into something closer to an hour, because I was so relaxed I dozed a bit. Finally I got back into the canoe and started downstream, still catching nothing.

Not 20 minutes and no more than a quarter mile from my lunch spot, there the two guys were again. And I was almost sure that they hadn't also stopped for lunch, because there simply weren't any good lunch spots in that quarter mile. It looked like they were barely creeping along, so I slowly paddled up behind them, and startled them by saying hello when I was only 20 yards or so away.

They were in one of those Coleman Crawdad type boats, and it was a windy day. When they saw me in my canoe, the first thing they said was that they wished they had my canoe, because the wind was really making it difficult for them to paddle. I told them I'd tried to let them get well ahead when I'd seen them before, but it looked like they were going a lot slower than I was. They asked me if I'd been catching fish, and I said it was really slow. They said it was very slow for them, too, though they'd hooked and lost one "big" smallmouth. I didn't ask them how big. I noted that they were using light spinning tackle and some kind of very small soft plastic, so I was fairly sure they weren't the main reason I'd caught so few fish. They were nice and seemed to have no problem with me going on ahead. It's always a tough call when you come up on another floater in this situation. I fish fast, and in this case, if I stayed behind them I'd be spending most of my time sitting and waiting in vain for them to get well ahead. But I wouldn't really want somebody to pass me in the same situation. Like I said, it's a tough call.

When I'd caught up with them, they hadn't even been fishing, and they happened to be drifting through my favorite little run in this whole stretch. It's short, shallow, and the only cover is two or three beach ball size rocks in the middle and some water willows along the sides, but for some reason, it seems to always produce a good fish or two. It just about killed me to see them not fishing it. And, just below is a longer, rocky pool that's also shallow, but has also produced some nice fish over the years, but I didn't fish it, paddling hard to get well ahead of them before I started fishing again. I hope they fished it, and caught some fish from it.

The pool where I started fishing again is deeper, rocky, actually one of the nicer looking pools in this stretch, and it does usually produce some fish. But it was obvious that fishing behind those guys wasn't the reason I wasn't catching much, because I only caught one smallmouth in that pool. The next quarter mile has several deep runs with good log cover, and I've hooked a couple of big fish there, but not today.

At this point, you're about halfway through the float, and usually from there on the fishing declines. There are a couple of long, deep pools between there and Terre du Lac, but one is devoid of cover, and the other never seems to produce much. Everything else is pretty shallow and there isn't a lot of good cover anywhere. Yet, some of those shallow flats sometimes produce some decent fish. And sure enough, I began to get some action in the shallow flats, and caught several smallies, though nothing over 14 inches. At least I was getting a few good blow-ups on the topwater.

I reached the Terre du Lac picnic ground about 2 PM. Somebody has dumped in a bunch of rip rap along the bank just below the deep pool at the picnic ground, and while the deep pool never produces much, I was looking forward to fishing that little bank of rip rap, because it's usually one of the last decent places to produce a nice fish. But there were two kids standing on the bank there and skipping rocks right along the rip rap. Sigh.

Just below, the landowner has been digging out the bottom on the left for several years, apparently removing the topsoil and selling it. He left a single row of trees along the bank between the dug-out bottom and the river, but floods have been gradually removing the trees, which were left on a narrow ridge of soil between the excavated bottom,which is now mostly gravel and barely higher than the river, and the water. It will be interesting, and probably dismaying, to see what eventually happens there. But so far, the river hasn't changed much. I noticed that, along a shallow run, the landowner had been digging gravel next to the river, and left a big Bobcat digger there, so it was obvious he wasn't finished. Just as I entered the run, I heard a big truck coming, and a dump truck pulled up to the Bobcat. Just at that point, a nice smallmouth whacked my twin spin. The fish was hot, and fought all over the river before I got it in, though it was probably no more than 15 inches. The guy got out of the truck, climbed into the Bobcat, and started digging more gravel as I drifted by; I don't know if he saw me catch the fish or not.

Nor do I know whether he saw me catch four more out of that little run, while he was working. It was by far the fastest action I'd had all day. And it kept up. I was catching fish on the twin spin now, though I'd cast it off and on all day with little to show for it.

I soon entered the big pool at what was once called Leadwood Beach, where 30 years ago you could drive to the river. I caught a couple of nice largemouth in the upper part of the pool, and then decided to try the topwater again in the lower end of the pool, where there are some nice rocks in deeper water. I had a big smallmouth blow up on the Sexy Dawg and miss, and the line got entangled in the hooks, so though I could see the big, dark shadow as the fish came back, I couldn't work the lure to entice it to hit again. I cast there once more with nothing happening, then two casts and ten feet farther down the bank, caught a 15 incher. Two casts after that and another ten feet down the bank, in the last good spot, there was another big blow-up, and this time I hooked the fish,which was my 17th smallmouth of the day, and turned out to be exactly 17 inches.

Below there, the fishing always gets worse and worse. But the fish were hitting well now, and I had hopes that my 18th smallmouth would be 18 inches. It wasn't. More like 12 inches. But the fishing remained good, with fish coming whenever I'd find a decent spot. I finally reached the first of the two long pools above the Leadwood Access, and the wind was honking up the pool and I never catch much in those pools anyway, so I paddled on to the car.

So after fishing 4 hours and 3 miles in the morning with only 8 fish caught, and after 6 hours and nearly 6 miles with still only about 20 fish caught, that last two hours and the last mile or so resulted in a final tally of 23 smallmouth and 18 largemouth. The light switch had turned on in that last hour, and I was really wishing I had more miles to go...and better water.

[countryred]

Sounds like you had a great trip Al. Some days the fish take a while to start biting. Smallies on a topwater really make your heart race.

[jdmidwest]

I always like that section later on in the fall. I usually break it up, Mounts to Terre Du Lac one day and down to Leadwood the next. That stretch thru the cattle farm is pretty gruesome most of the time.

[jezziesdad]

Al, you mentioned catching fish while a Bobcat and truck were making noise and causing commotion nearby. I too have had a similar experience while fishing the Whitewater River near Sedgewickville, Mo. A county bridge was being replaced last summer over Whitewater River hence several large gravel dump trucks and front-end loader were in constant motion near a very productive pool. While I expected the worse, I've never experienced better fishing at this particular fishing hole just a few yards away from the constant motion/noise of the equipment. I've always wondered if the noise/commotion/vibration of the equipment caused the positive fishing activity. Another similar experience had a landowner high decibel mowing/blowing his clippings plus I assume insects into a 30 yard span of Whitewater River creating excellent fishing, especially goggleye, in that particular instance.

[The Troutdoorsman]

Al,

That used to be my home stretch of river and I have many good memories from there. While rounding a bend, just after Hwy. 8 bridge disappeared out of sight behind us, we came upon a large herd of cattle crossing the river. Half on one side and half on the other. The cows didn't like the idea of us getting in between them in our canoe. The half that hadn't crossed started bolting for the otherside. We were on a collision course, but we couldn't slow the canoe fast enough. A huge heifer hit the front side of the canoe and we spun sideways. Some how we managed not to tip. The rest of the cows, now freaking out from our yelling and frantic paddle strokes sending water into the air, turned and run back up the bank the way they came. We righted the canoe and pushed pasted the cows as fast as we could. In total silence trying to figure out what had just happened. After a minute my friend, who just about had a cow in his lap, turned to me and said "We are the only two people that I know, that can be in a canoe, on a river and get run over by a cow."

[Smalliebigs]

Man, you really drill the Big quite often....those fish probally know you by the bottom of your canoe. I guess I'm just jealous and digusted all in the same sense as I sit here waiting for my shuttle who is late as hell.

[Gavin]

Good for you Al....This week stinks... I need to go fishing.

[Terrierman]

Al,

That used to be my home stretch of river and I have many good memories from there. While rounding a bend, just after Hwy. 8 bridge disappeared out of sight behind us, we came upon a large herd of cattle crossing the river. Half on one side and half on the other. The cows didn't like the idea of us getting in between them in our canoe. The half that hadn't crossed started bolting for the otherside. We were on a collision course, but we couldn't slow the canoe fast enough. A huge heifer hit the front side of the canoe and we spun sideways. Some how we managed not to tip. The rest of the cows, now freaking out from our yelling and frantic paddle strokes sending water into the air, turned and run back up the bank the way they came. We righted the canoe and pushed pasted the cows as fast as we could. In total silence trying to figure out what had just happened. After a minute my friend, who just about had a cow in his lap, turned to me and said "We are the only two people that I know, that can be in a canoe, on a river and get run over by a cow."

Best river story ever in the history of rivers.

[Greasy B]

Thanks for the Big River report. Last hour of the day would be a bummer pattern if it held all season.

[Al Agnew]

Al,

That used to be my home stretch of river and I have many good memories from there. While rounding a bend, just after Hwy. 8 bridge disappeared out of sight behind us, we came upon a large herd of cattle crossing the river. Half on one side and half on the other. The cows didn't like the idea of us getting in between them in our canoe. The half that hadn't crossed started bolting for the otherside. We were on a collision course, but we couldn't slow the canoe fast enough. A huge heifer hit the front side of the canoe and we spun sideways. Some how we managed not to tip. The rest of the cows, now freaking out from our yelling and frantic paddle strokes sending water into the air, turned and run back up the bank the way they came. We righted the canoe and pushed pasted the cows as fast as we could. In total silence trying to figure out what had just happened. After a minute my friend, who just about had a cow in his lap, turned to me and said "We are the only two people that I know, that can be in a canoe, on a river and get run over by a cow."

Well, I got revenge for you on the cow thing...many years ago, when I still used a 15 ft. Grumman aluminum canoe, I was floating Big River through the Coles Landing area where the big dairy farm always was. The river was up a bit and really moving. At the time there was a very narrow riffle just a bit below the ford there where the river veered off to the right to enter the riffle, and then the riffle curved sharply to the left. It was lined with trees, so you couldn't see around the bend. I came around that bend in the riffle and there was a big dairy cow, standing in the water udder deep, broadside in the exact center of the riffle. I was on her before I could do anything, and the front end of the canoe plowed into her ribs. She probably didn't have very good footing anyway with the water so fast there, and when I hit her it bowled her over like she'd been blasted with a cannon, so fast that the canoe slid right over her as she went completely under. I was past her before I even realized I was still dry, and before she came up sputtering and bawling and went floundering over to the bank.