Tag Archives: crappie

Berryessa Redux

Conditions: Air temperature 55 degrees in the AM, 77 degrees in the afternoon. Light northerly breeze, 5-10 mph. Water temperature measured at Oaks Shores of 62 degrees (AM), measured at Big Island 64 degrees (PM).

I retraced my earlier Berryessa outing and noted the last couple of weeks of warm weather is reflected in the water temperature. In the last two weeks, surface temperatures are up three degrees, and the lake has dropped an additional five feet, consistent with tomato production.

Yep, all that Ketchup has to come from somewhere …

The last couple of weeks the valley has been planting in earnest. Bell Peppers, Tomatoes, and new Almond orchards are materializing as fast as the tractors can plant them, and the canals brim full of water  necessary to get plantings to take root, so water use is up.

The talk in the parking lot are how fewer Kokanee are biting and the casual trolling anglers are starting to thin as well. Less lake volume and warmer weather and we’ve got the recipe for the Kokanee to head deep and the bass to come shallow, and yours truly gleefully stomping the daylights out of anything fool enough to eat an artificial.

Three degrees meant the Smallmouth bite is akin to Indian Valley. “Smallies” were in the shallows and giving chase, with nary a Largemouth to be seen. The same flies were dominant, and only the terrain mattered – as Smallmouth tend to prefer rocky areas and are largely absent on the muddy or sandy parts of the lake.

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No Catfish this time, but I did manage to land a big “Chunk” of a Crappie. These are always welcome given they’re a scrappy fighter with a soft mouth, and also great table fare if you get into a school of them.

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The Gray Wooly Bugger is quickly becoming the “go to” pattern for all of these lakes – and it’s not terribly surprising given how the predominant food source is Threadfin Shad.  I am casting downwind to increase distance, waiting a bit (to unravel tangled running line) and then stripping the fly back in pulls ranging from six inches to a foot. I have 20 turns of two amp fuse wire on the fly with a 4mm bead, and the combination gives it an aggressive sink rate … likely about six inches per second.

My leader is also assisting a bit, as it is designed for these heavy flies. I have a short butt section (about 40”) comprised of equal segments of 50, 40, and 30lb monofilament. I tie a Surgeon’s Knot at the end of the 30 lb to make a loop to attach the tippet. I use about five foot of 15lb fluorocarbon (Seaguar –I am testing it this season), to aid the sinking fly. The long tippet allows the fly to sink very quickly as it is  thinner and offers less resistance to the fly pulling it under. This is similar to many of the leaders I make, and takes its inspiration from the Golden Gate Angling & Casting Club’s tournament leaders used in ACA events.

The combination is allowing me to consistently get five or six feet into the water column with a floating line – an important option considering the top water bite is synonymous with Spring Spawn and the ensuing festivities. Flopping between the deep and the surface is a lot easier when limited to fly change only – versus spool swap or second rod.

Indian Valley Reservoir Scout

Conditions: Morning temperatures about 61 degrees, afternoon about 80 degrees. Gusty mid morning winds to about 20 mph, dying in early afternoon to a steady breeze. Water temperature measured at 58 – 60 degrees.

I figured all my recent scouting and fishing “hard knocks” would eventually put me in the proper water at the right time, as it’s the nature of taking so many cuts at the ball – eventually you have to connect.

Today was Indian Valley Reservoir, which is off of HWY 20 near Clear Lake, CA. To get to the lake requires tracing the ridgeline on a 12 mile long, spine jarring and dusty,  dirt road, replete with all the divots and pot holes that come from a lot of off road traffic and the hellions that practice that fine art.

Indian Valley is a BLM management area and frequently hosts off-road clubs and the California Militia, which is mix of Off-road Crazies, Trump supporters, and leavened with Proud Boys and castoff Fox News anchors, and it’s not uncommon to encounter well armed Turkey hunters on the way in – and better armed camo-clad militia on the way out. 

It’s safe to assume you’re outgunned … so wave cheerily and try to minimize the rocks and dirt you spatter them with  – as you blow past.

The lake proper has a small campground (without water) next to the dam, a long concrete ramp used to launch boats, and is operated by the  Yolo County Water District, which is very tight-lipped about information on the locked gate and whether the lake is open or closed.  The Bureau of Land Management operates the surrounding terrain, and may be the better source for early and late season access status.

I got to the lake around 9AM and was the only person at the campground. No boat inspection despite the numerous placards mentioning fines. Lake County requires Quagga inspection stickers on all boats (you must have one for the current month), but kayaks are exempt from this requirement. There is a $6 day use fee ($15 for overnight camping) that is collected via honor system.

With the lake like glass I started on the West side of the dam and fished through all the sunken timber enroute to the North end of the lake, some miles distant.  In normal years the lake is about six miles long, but this year it’s only about two-thirds full, so is closer to four miles in length.

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Indian Valley is full of timber and underwater stumps, and the lake has a posted speed limit of 10mph for all boat traffic due to the danger of disemboweling your craft.  All that wood makes for a marvelous fishing environment, when you’re not snagging up, as there’s nothing like fishing at something – versus blind casting hoping for something to swim by.

I found the Smallmouth Bass first. They were overly protective of the rocky  points entering the lake and dragging a #4 Grey Wooly Bugger over the shallow hump would often bring something from the deeper water to the sides.

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I landed about a half dozen fish while wandering about the West bank, and got thumped by something that felt bigger ..

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Indian Valley Catfish, my first on the fly

… which wound up being a good sized Catfish, my first on a fly rod.  I had seen numerous Catfish caught on flies in magazines, but this was the first I had caught on my own. It was a great fight and a worthy adversary. The thought of fish dinner entered my mind – as Catfish are wonderful table fare, but I opted to release him instead.

Indian Valley Reservoir is plagued by wind that materializes about 11AM and lasts through till the afternoon. You anticipate this gusty period, as the initial burst is quite blustery, but typically will die back in early afternoon. I always bring conventional tackle to fish during the worst of the wind, as fly rods are ineffective and dangerous when gusts start ripping down the valley.

Emboldened by early success I pedaled over to the East side of the lake just in time to greet the blustery Northern wind that pushed me back South towards the dam. Waves appeared almost immediately and made for a few anxious moments as I adjusted for the return crossing with waves hitting broadside to the boat. Angling kayaks are a little less seaworthy than their sunken cockpit cousins, so I took a 45 degree course to give me a “following sea” and less of a tipping issue with the waves hitting me obliquely versus broadside.

Returning to the West side I shelved the fly rod and beached the kayak to make it easier to fish in high wind. I tried a mix of Spinnerbaits, top water plugs, jigs, and finally settled on tossing a 6” Green Pumpkin Senko (#318 Green Pumpkin with large Red flake) into the deeper water.

With the change in tackle (and depth), the Largemouth appeared – and couldn’t leave the Senko alone. I landed a couple dozen fish (and an even larger Catfish!) during the worst of the windy period all on the big rubber worm.

It’s a lesson I’ve learned many times over. Scouting large bodies of water requires numerous tackle types to get a firm read on quarry and conditions. Fly fishing has glaring weaknesses – casting distance and fishing at depth being the most obvious, and being able to fish through a blustery three hours with conventional gear made quite the difference in understanding where the fish were holding – and what they thought tasty.

In short, had a great trip – caught quite a few fish – and of the four lakes scouted this week, found Indian Valley bite to be “earlier” than the others, something I will log and confirm in coming years.

Indian Valley is all rock and shale covered with a leavening of goopy algae. I saw no evidence of spawning fish, no beds of any kind, no Crappie, Kokanee,  or Carp, and no humans nor trash (even in the campground).

Some observations and cautions: The road to the lake does not need four wheel drive, despite the many potholes, and there is no cell phone coverage, so if you get stuck you’re on your own. Remember if you launch a boat you’ll need to get Quagga inspected (Lake County requires MONTHLY inspections) and go slow on the water as the sunken timber is quite thick in the coves and edges of the lake.

This is heavy Rattlesnake country, so if you camp or bring little people, you need to keep an eye out for visitors. There is little water in the area other than the lake – so anything resident to the area must move to the water which may mean unsolicited visitations or encounters in the brush surrounding … there are tons of snakes in the area.

Stony Gorge Reservoir Scout Trip

Conditions: Air temperatures 65 – 76, water temperature 60 degrees, light afternoon breeze.

I fished Stony Gorge Reservoir for the first time today. Stony Gorge is yet another Interstate 5 impoundment that everyone rockets past enroute to elsewhere. It’s west of I-5 near the small town of Elk Creek, Ca (take the HWY 163 West out of Willows).

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The lake is smallish, no more than a couple miles in length, and boasts outstanding water clarity (up to 20-30 foot), numerous encounters with Bald Eagles, no trash, few humans, and absolutely no hungry fish – which is likely the reason our small group had the lake to ourselves.

We split up and covered both sides of the lake, I fished alternating deep plunging shoreline interspersed with shallow flats enroute to the Southern end, which hosted a lot of brush and timber in the water.

I saw only six middling size carp in the shallow water, and nothing in the way of bass or crappie in any of the areas that were visible.

The 60 degree water is a might chill to trigger much in the way of spawning debauchery – and I was surprised the lake was as cold as East Park, as we’re in the grip of a warming trend that will culminate in 90 degree temperatures this weekend.

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With nothing visible in the shallows, I ran a quick test with drop shot in the deeper portions of the lake’s center. Picked up a pair of fish in as many casts, so the fish are still sulking in the deeper water.

Like East Park Reservoir, Stony Gorge access is seasonal. The Bureau of Reclamation is the Dam operator and is the best source of information as to the gate being unlocked to allow anglers into the campgrounds and launch area.  I think the season is roughly April to October, but call the Bureau’s Shasta (Redding) office to verify they are open (530) 247-8500.

I was much taken by what I saw of the lake. The combination of scenery, wildlife, lack of trash, and the unique light coloration of the bass – will likely have me returning soon.

East Park reservoir–Half Full and Fishing Crappie

Conditions: Air temperature 60 – 80 degrees, light wind in the afternoon. Water Temperature 62 degrees, with water clarity of about 36”.

With the fuel moisture levels in valley brush already at June levels, I recently switched gears and moved from “deep and narrow” lakes to exploiting the “shallow and bowl-like” lakes before they warm to bathtub temperatures.

The rationale is simple, the deep lakes will remain cool at depth no matter how warm the summer gets – but the shallow lakes are already half empty, are warming quickly,  and will be unfishable come July.

East Park Reservoir is a little known impoundment off of I-5 that most fishermen pass while headed North into the blue water of the Cascades. It is a agricultural reservoir just above Williams, and services much of Colusa county. Last year (drought year One) I visited it in May and July – and while the May trip was good fishing, the July trip was a warm off-color mess.

East Park isn’t well known, hosts few services, including no boat launch, and doesn’t get the pressure of the popular lakes like Clear Lake or Berryessa. This lack of humans means no trash at the water’s edge, no floating debris, and no overflowing garbage dumpsters to draw wildlife and the curious.

As the lake is accessible only via a Colusa county controlled gate, it is accessible only from April till October, after which the gates are closed and locked for the Winter.

Being about the only person on the lake the prior year, I assumed the opening of the lake would be a quiet affair, so I made the trip jsut to see what the lake offered for the April 9th Opener …

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… and while it appears that most of the locals had the same idea, there was plenty of room for everyone due to the low lake levels and the expanded parking and launch facilities that created. Parking is plentiful on the sandy lake bed, and launching a bass boat simply needs an outcropping of hard pan near the water’s edge for success (see above).

The lower portion of the lake was already dry and reminiscent of late summer of last year, so I expect this year will be critical to lake levels, as its current 50% fill will be drawn down quickly by the local rice, almond, and tomato crop.

East Park hosts numerous bass species, carp, and an aggressive Crappie population that shows itself with regularity. With about a dozen boats on the lake – and at least eight fishing kayaks, the fish were plentiful and most succumbed to an assortment of “rip” baits, spinnerbaits, and a few even blew up on top water lures.

The Crappie preferred a weighted Grey Wooly Bugger (size 6), which I use for a standard “minnow” or Shad imitation, and the Largemouth Bass preferred the larger, Crawdad colored, variant. (Use Orange and Brown speckled chenille, brown marabou tail, furnace hackle tied Palmer)

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The bite was pretty good considering all the extra traffic on the lake, which killed the the daylong serenade of Coyotes singing from Coyote Point, but the trip was an unqualified success on all other measures.

The kayak allows full access to the lake, if your legs are in good enough shape to pedal the distance. East Park is shaped like an inverted “V” – and at half full the round trip distance between southern launch and northern dam is about three miles, with a similar length for the far “leg” of the lake.

Ample campsites exist, but they are Spartan and lack water. The fluctuations of the lake level alter the camping area drastically as most follow the receding waterline and camp on the lake bed proper.

Colusa county operates the camping concession, and you can reserve campsites (and pay for day use) on their website. Day use is about $8, for a single vehicle, and camping is $15 per night, which is cheap considering.

I did not see any evidence of Bass spawn yet, and the 62 degree water is still a bit chill for full mating debauchery. It will be soon, but will be difficult to spot based on the rocky shale bottom of the lake. Largemouth beds are more obvious scars on  muddy bottoms than on a rocky surface, and are less easy to spot.

The few fish that broke the surface for top water action suggests the activity level is consistent with a warming lake, so the best bite will be soon.

Part 3: I got your frog right here (next to this big foam cup of Earthworms)

Anyone that’s fished for any length of time can channel unflinching optimism, but “too good to be true” is a bubble burst upon us many times. On the outside we’re cocksure and tough, on the inside all that optimism is tempered with reality.

… and now, moments away from losing my first fly in Bass Paradise, having listened to the story of its birth and resurrection, that same inner demon is tugging at my sleeve suggesting, “ … it’s hot out, maybe you should have been here last week.”

Schooled by adversity, I’m not used to flinching in the face of awesomeness.

And it was plenty hot already. As a guest I didn’t set departure and arrival times, and midday temps were scheduled for triple digits, so I eschewed the float tube for the breathable waist-highs (review coming later), and marched out on the first earthen finger …

Bass and Bluegill were visible all around me, and starkness of my pear shaped frame sky-lined against blue sky sent everything living into a panic of flight. Big wakes peeled away into the tules or buried themselves into the neighboring weedy growth, and all I could do was note my “dried tule” camouflage might be hell on geese, but wasn’t fooling fish at all.

With visions of sugarplums dancing in my frontal lobe, I added one of my Massive Protein flies onto the leader. Assuming the fish were measured in yards and therefore only flies representing stray dogs or unattended children would be worthwhile.

Nothing.

I removed the Massive Black Hole of Tungsten off of the leader and opted for the more sedate Eye Searing Crayfish of Rubber-legged Death and flung that at them …

Nothing.

I’m conscious of the retired bass pro snickering to himself as he ties another willow sapling onto a bamboo stake. “ I’ve got to get these up high so the deer don’t eat them,” he says, “You probably want to throw a frog at them.”

He opens the back of his vehicle and on top of the pile of muddy boots, shovels, picks, and rusty chainsaw, are about nine pre-strung spinning rods each rigged with 30lb braid and a variety of baits. Freeing one of them he shows me what “frog” means.

I nod sagely, and produce my Letters of Marque, a fly box stuffed with spun deer hair poppers in a dizzying array of colors. I grab the biggest untrimmed Yellow and Olive, rubber-legged monstrosity and heave that at the fish.

Gurgle … Burble … Bloop. Nothing.

By this time my buddy is in his float tube in mid pond and finning around expectantly, and having similar luck.

The top water bait fails to motivate the fish, so I return to the Crayfish pattern. I’m cinching up the knot when I see a big shadow detach itself form the Tule clump next to me and sidle into a weed channel nearby. I figured Mister Fatty was lying in wait, and flipped the Crayfish out past him and gave it a tug …

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Apparently “Fatty” had the same weakness for hot orange and rubbery as did his cousins up at Lake Berryessa.

I spent the morning touring the lake and trying each of the areas defined by the earthen piers, but fishing was very slow, and I was thinking the drought had upended the feeding timetable a bit, and earlier would have been more appropriate.

As I made a full circle and stopped to compare notes with the proprietor, he offered up a rod and a big Styrofoam cup of earthworms. He motions to me, “let’s go catch some of these big Bluegill” he remarks, “I had a nine year old girl out here yesterday with her folks, and she caught fifty-seven without having to move.”

I grabbed the proffered rod and cowboy’d up. My host was unfamiliar with fly tackle and its efficacy and was doing his best to ensure I had a good time. I dropped that weightless earthworm in amongst the tules and quickly pulled a half dozen panfish out of their den. I handed the rod back and reached for the fly rod and downsized the bait to a trout sized bug and then proceeded to lay waste to the surroundings.

I cracked open the fly box and showed him our variants on panfish delicacies, and how each could be applied with great accuracy – so long as you donated a double-fistful to overhanging branches.

“Them brightly colored ones are a nice accent to your poppies, aren’t they?” I was a little reluctant to tug on his tules for fear of wrenching up all those painstakingly planted stalks. Apparently they are sunk in one pound coffee cans, and spread from that source into a traditional gaggle of plants.

I did have the luxury of catching a few while I had a willing cameraman, and as it’s not often my countenance graces these pages, so this one’s for Ma …

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Note the emphasis on grooming and cutting edge angling fashion.

Wading this pond was out of the question. Earthworks lack the integrity of natural substrate, and stepping off the path area meant sinking into mud. The kind of cloying greasy mass that requires you to hold onto your waders for fear of climbing out of them.

By afternoon the temperature was getting to be an issue, and a welcome breeze started blowing that caused everything to get stupid for about two hours.

Screams from the center of the lake suggested my fishing buddy was doing passably well …

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These being some of the largest bass he’d ever caught. Note the skinny abdomen on this slug, it’s a post-spawn bass that likely will weigh considerably more once filled out again.

Most of the fish we caught were recent spawners, given April and May is their traditional spawn time for this part of the foothills, which we confirmed with our host.

Big bluegill dominated most of the afternoon. Once the breeze put a riffle on the water the fish were much more aggressive. Most of these were about the size of your hand, which is prime size for putting a strain into a seven weight.

I did manage to catch one rarity. One of the breed stock of Black Crappy ate my Olive Leech, and while the fish is not rare in California, the builder mentioned he’d only planted a few breeders to see if they’d take root, and they had not been overly successful to date.

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I have always adored these fish – given their swarming numbers and aggression. They are fine table fare and likely will do quite well in all that overly warm, newly empty trout water.

I’d describe the outing as nothing short of fabulous. If we’d gotten there a couple of weeks earlier the weeds would have been a bit less pervasive, and the daytime temperatures more friendly, the bass fatter and more susceptible to being caught due to nesting behavior.

Any water managed for excellence is likely to draw an eager and appreciative crowd. It’s therefore heartening to know that despite inevitable changes to our environment and our quarry, from fragile salmonids to warm water cockroach, we’ll be undaunted … as opinionated and gear oriented as ever.