Mississippi River Pool 8 with Dad

For those of us who have it bad, have you ever thought to yourself where your drive comes from for the love of fishing? You know what I’m talking about, that deep down feeling in your gut or, the never ending thoughts that swirl in your head, all being about getting on the water to chase whatever finned critters it might be on the chew. It’s a vehement desire coursing through the veins.
Well these last 2 weeks I watched with my own eyes witnessing the origin of my passion for the sport, it came from the bloodline of my Father!
Dad and Mom made there yearly trip from Florida to La Crosse again this year and as always Dad and I planned on hitting the water as often as possible. Once again, just as it was last year when they arrived, the Ole Miss was running high, fast, and muddy making it difficult to decide on what to chase and where to chase at. The mind was fluttering with what too and how too’s wanting to make sure a good time was had and hoping for a few fish fry’s to make there way back South with the parents. Why a guy worries so I have no idea. Things always seem to work out for the better, especially after a little talk with the big guy upstairs asking for guidance

Day one had us fishing with Mikehd in the backwaters where toothy critters and nice Bass were found just weeks before hoping to put a pike or two in the box for Dad. Every year this is also a must event, the three of us in a boat together that is. If nothing else we are all guaranteed a bunch of great laughs while catching up on last years events. Even though Mike was out a foot control for his trolling motor we made due and covered a ton of water using the wind, flow and oars to our advantage this trip only to come away with a few smaller Bass caught by each of us.
Even though the bite was tough and the big guys were not in the mood to chase baits it didn’t matter. I was spending time with my father and a great friend.
The more time spent on the water the more I noticed a gleam in Dad’s eye. There were also the times concentration took control which could be seen on his face. Where have I seen this before? It was a familiar sight but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
The day of fishing came to a close in a hurry and the concern for finding a bite began to swell in my melon. There had to be something we could do to put a few fish on ice.

That evening while we were all eating and having a good time at olden days story telling a thought tumbled in-between the ears, head to the North end of the pool and fish a hump on a side channel well known for holding Gills. They have too be there hiding from the current on the main channel, right? Long story short….they were all being 4-5 inches long It didn’t take long to realize a move needed to be made to get out of the nursery, but where too? Darn these river conditions right now, we should be fishing wing dams for the big bruiser gills already for crying out loud. Then it hit, ding, ding, ding!!! Head for the main channel and look for some eddy’s or flooded timber near or around the wing dams. Normally they would be on them why not just off to the sides during this period of high water, and maybe they were just as confused as the rest of us who were trying to find them?
Dad agreed it sounded like a plan and the Merc was fired up and pushing the boat up the main channel while we kept our peepers peeled checking out the conditions on or near the wing dams.

First set up on the main channel had an eddy back flushing water into flooded timber standing in 3-4fow. Grass mates floated everywhere making it difficult to cast into an opening, but when the bait did hit an opening it was fish on. We were into a better year class with 6-8inch gills making there way boat side, a smile crossed both of our faces as we started to weed out some nicer orange belly’s for the taking Again while watching my dad a familiar sight kept sketching a picture in my head, what was it that I recognized?

Dad was snapping fish with a small jig and chunk of red worm under a slip bobber while for me it was a jig sportin’ a 1inch gulp alive minnow being twitched across the bottom of the river floor. When the bigger gills disappeared we would pick up and look for another spot around a wing dam or shoreline with the same characteristics. It paid off for 2 days making for a great possession limit of gill filets frozen and bagged for the journey to Florida

Another bonus fishing the wing dams for me was to be able to tangle with the cats Using a 1oz slip sinker, a 18 inch leader, along with a wide gap hook holding a piece of cut bait made for some rod bending action while catching a juvenile Flathead and tanker Channels while the bait was cast to the tip of the wing dam. After a 10 minute battle using 10lb line this channel cat pictured here posed for a photo shoot. Again, while Dad snapped pictures of the beast and we admired the dark blue fish, there was that ever familiar glint in his eye that had me so confused until I really took a hard look at the first picture in this post…dog gone it……that is me I have been noticing in his eyes No doubt about it, my ever burning desire to be on the river has come to me through my Father. Now if I can just turn out to be half the man my Dad is I will have accomplished something with my life

Even with the current conditions the bite is going on. I thank the good Lord for making great memories with the whole family these past days. The time spent together was going to be a blessing with or without a fish bite but, the big guy up stairs made sure to put a great topping on the Clark’s family gathering

Love you more than you know Dad and Mom XXX OOO!!!!!!

Good luck fishing people