Sunday, December 11, 2011

A Day to be Thankful For

It was two days after Thanksgiving. The sky was blue and the temperature was just right. And most importantly, the gang was still in for the holiday. The gang meaning my Uncle, Cousins, Pap, and Dad. Unfortunately my brother was visiting his in-laws in Minnesota (whatan idiot).

I'll be honest, I wasn't convinced we would catch any bass. It was late fall and the water temperature had dropped significantly.The pond was a great stop for top water action, but never really been tested for the deeper waters; today would be interesting.

We arrived at our country destination and the pond looked beautiful. I found my spot on the right bank. Apparently it was already a popular spot. My younger cousin found the same spot about 4 yards away from me. This was going to be a fun afternoon.



After around 40 minutes of fishing, I see my uncle reeling one in from across the pond.  My skepticism sank as the fish emerged out of the water; it looks like we were going to catch fish after all.

Eventually, my Dad would reel one in himself. And then my cousin. And then my other cousin. And then my other cousin again, and again and again. He was fishing near the top with a worm and bobber and catching gullible bluegills.

I need to take time out real quick and say that bluegills need to learn how to have a little self control. I really feel bad for them. They get so excited and believe 100% that they are making a sound decision and then SNAP! A big ol' hook right through their jawbone. Poor irrational little fish.

Back to the fishing. So we continued to fish away the afternoon. The few bass we caught before ended up being the only bass we would catch. Honestly, I was very surprised we caught anything, let alone more than 2. We would soon pack up and head back into town.

One of the reasons I really wanted to get out was because of Thanksgiving. Fishing has always been a refuge for me that puts life into perspective. It helps you break the unnecessary commotion caused by always chasing that next "thing" you have to do in your life. If we never have a chance to clear our heads, we never really get to appreciate what's important in our lives, at least that's how it is for me. This trip did just that. Many people believe they have little to be thankful for. The truth is everyone has something to be thankful for, but you'll never find it if you never take the time to look.

The Gang 2011

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Like Father Like Son...Like Son

   Last Spring I got to do two things I've wanted to do for sometime now: fish for trout and fish with my Pap. I'm not alone and can say my Dad was equally excited. But that was in the Spring and now the local trout are slim, so we had to find another place to take our adventures. On a beautiful Fall day, three generations of Hawrots hopped into a small fishing boat and headed out to hunt some bass.

   Normally, I could care less about the number of fish I catch. If I get a few, than that's an enjoyable evening. But tonight was different. It wasn't that I had to show anyone up but it was more of showing the person who taught me to fish and the person who taught him to fish that I have learned from them and have grown into a decent fisherman. Admittedly, I have recently fished this pond many times and believed I had an edge on them that night.

   My Dad started quickly, catching numerous bass off his mastered hula popper.


I thought no big deal, I'll catch up quick. That's when I caught my first bass. A small lil one but nonetheless a fish. Shortly after, my Pap caught his first fish.


And then my Pap caught his second fish. And then my Dad caught his third fish. And then somewhere in the mix my lures became irrelevant to the fish. I was no more than the boat captain at that point watching my more experienced shipmates catch fish on the same type of lure I was using. At one point, the boat became stuck on the top of an underwater tree. I thought about going down with the boat but persistence told me to move on and be patient, my fish will come. Well, they never came...for me. My Pap and Dad continued to catch them well into the end of the trip.

  
     Now the sun was set and darkness was showering the country pond; it was time to head home. Ya, I didn't catch really anything but it was an amazing night out with my family. Being confined to a boat, every time someone reels one in, you stop fishing and feel like you're catching it with them. It was actually fitting the way the night progressed. I wasn't keeping exact count but I'd say my Pap caught the biggest fish, my Dad caught the most fish, and I caught the least. And that's exactly how it should be. A progression of fisherman should always get better with more age and experience, especially through many generations.  I guess what I really learned was that I need to start having kids. Then we'll really see who's on the bottom of the totem pole.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

My Friend, My Fish, and Ma' Boat

     My friend (Franco) recently bought a lifesize cutout of Taylor Swift. But luckily for his sake, I am a man of redemption.  I can publicly post this because he has indeed redeemed himself by purchasing a 12 foot fishing boat. It is indeed his boat but to everyone else it is known as "Ma' Boat." After a fresh paint and carpeting job, Ma' Boat was introduced to one of best strip ponds that Franco's coal company has ever created.
 
     The past few weeks have not been favorable for fishing. Finally, on my last day in Ohio before a trip to Milwaukee, the sun came out lovelier than ever; work was done at 5 and nothing else mattered besides getting out on the water.
 
     I started out with my go-to, a watermelon seeded worm with a small split-shot at the head. I was slightly successful but longed for larger fish. I went to my new hula-popper. Surely this would the cure for a month long cold. So I fished it. Popped it. Twitched it. Flicked it. Nothin'. I was thinking about going to my bull-pen when my luck changed. At about an hour before dark (6:30 p.m.), it was as if a switch went off. These bass were consistently hitting 10 yards from the shore and I was loving every moment of it.

     I could have fished that spot the rest of the night but there was something that needed to be done. For the past 3 trips to this pond, we have seen a very nice bass swimming in and out of an inlet leading into another beautiful pond. This day wouldn't be complete without a try to lure him in.

     We slowly approached the inlet and latched onto a tree 15 yards from the shore. I was confident the fish was in his spot and I knew I had one solid cast before he was gone. Last fishing trip, my cast came up short to the narrow inlet; this time I could not suffer that same fate. I flipped open my reel. Double checked the amount of slack. Took a deep breath and let her fly. I looped a high cast that landed 6 feet into the inlet; I thought this was it. If she's in there, I got her. Before I finished my train of throught, BAM! She hit. I fired back on the line and saw the water break out of the shallow inlet. I became tense as my line did the same. But suddenly, slack followed. I didn't know if I lost the fish. In all honesty, I think I did. But then I saw another riptide in the water. My hula went completely under again; this time, I knew she was on and I wasn't letting her go.

3.9 lbs 21 inches



     There are three things to know about fishing. You either catch small fish, large fish, or no fish. And you know what the best part about it is? It doesn't even matter which one it is. I'd gladly catch no fish with my family or friends than not try at all, but here's the kicker: when you do catch those better fish, there's not a person in the world than can tell me it's not a special feeling. 



Monday, August 22, 2011

Beaver Creek Fleet

Some people go directly to happy hour after work on Friday and continue the charade into early morning. Instead of dulling our senses, we ignited them and drove into the wilderness of Beaver Creek Ohio.

The crew was back together: my dad, my brother, and myself. After a quick and ritualistic pine cone fight, the tent was set and we were soaking in nature and simply enjoying the warm summer night.
Sparky

Spidey
We eventually went to bed and anticipated the morning and fishing to come. To be more clear, going to bed does not mean you actually sleep or feel recovered in the morning. Nope. That's all nonsense when you're sleeping on what felt like a bed of rocks.

We arrived at the creek in the morning and were excited about the afternoon to come. We were kids in a candy shop. I cannot even explain the impact that a creek has over you. It takes every worry that you couldn't shake out of your head for five days straight and buries them where the bass are hiding. 
 
Beaver Creek



My brother struck first. Watermelon seeded plastic worm, you are a good friend.

Cool brother with a Small Mouth
My dad would pull ahead and not look back. Over the past week, he has become a master at the hula popper. He would eventually pull in 3-4 smallies. Well done Pops!

My trip was a little different. The night before I caught a nice one on my good friend (Watermelon worm), but today I chose my professionally constructed fly-rod courtesy of Shane Murphy. I tried everything in my fly box and...everything came up short. I've had the fly rod for less than a year and I already feel very comfortable with the action, now I just need to master the lures. I eventually switched to my spinning reel and had some success.
Eventually, we would stop to swim upstream and soak in the atmosphere. The fishing trip was coming to an end and I was already missing what we were about to be leaving. I do a lot of fishing by myself when no one else can go but nothing beats fishing with family. The experience we all share together is indescribable. I get more excited to see them catching the fish than actually catching them myself. I am glad I was born into a outdoor family. I am also overly confident that we would all become hermits and live in the woods for the rest of our lives if given the chance. Short of a nuclear war, I don't think we will ever need to but thank goodness it's always right where we left it.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

The Zebco 404 SE

     My Dad proved me wrong. But before he proved me wrong, I caught a fish.

     Another beautiful summer evening at the Mouth of King's Creek, my new favorite 15 minute hideout. My Bro, Dad, and myself ventured down the to do a little angling. I was working a lime green chatter bait, something that still did not know what a fish felt like. That soon changed when I brought in two small white bass. Not thrilled about the size but two small white bass are better than two small nothings.


     My Brother wasn't having much luck. My Dad was getting bites but nothing solid.  He was fishing on the bottom with a big ol' nasty hook and a worm throughout. Suddenly he got a bite, more-or-less an attack. Immediately the fish took off deeper into the river. My Dad's line is at a stalemate, the drag needs adjusted. But his reel doesn't have a great drag, or much of anything else for that sake. He is using a Zebco Push Button 404 SE.


He has a regular spincast reel but always resorts back to the Zebco. I always think, there's goina be that time where he hooks a big one and then he'll be screwed. Well, he hooked a big one, but he wasn't screwed. He played this fish like there was a camera crew set up filming his show: The unknown would take off; he'd release the button for more line; fish would tire; he'd yank the pole back and play a game of inches and feet for the rest of the fight. Finally, the fish was his.

He caught a huge Freshwater Drum on an old little reel with a skinny little line, proving it's not about the rod, it's about the fisherman who's holding it.


Thursday, August 4, 2011

Another Warm Summer Night

Not doing anything for awhile always makes it that much more enjoyable the next time you get to do it. The past few weeks my sister and I have been finishing up our screenplay with days of nonstop writing, especially long nights and early mornings when the fish are just waiting to get hooked. Once I finished the revision, I knew exactly where I was headed.

I ventured back to the mouth of King's Creek on the Ohio River. Water was near a hot 80 degrees on the front side of the sandbar and after wading out, I reeled in a small mouth on my second cast using a watermelon seeded Texas-rigged rubber worm. Not big but still a rush I haven't had a fix on in weeks.


I was surprised at how quickly the sun set. Only got to fish for 45 minutes but every minute and cast were worth it. Made me appreciate what a warm summer's night, a little bit of fishin', and a big stream of water could do for some peace of mind.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Ohio River Meets King's Creek

Another warm summer's evening, too nice out to do anything else besides cast out a little line into some water. We decided to venture to the mouth of King's Creek where it feeds into the Ohio River. After a nice walk,

we made our way down the steep gravel hill right to the river. After fishing for nearly an hour we both had missed a nice fish using tube jigs. Both times the fish took the lure down but the hook sadly slipped out. That is how it usually happens. It's a slow night, not much action. Casting becomes a repetitive motion. They hit when your're just thinking about that next cast. "No way they are going to hit now." And that's usually when your big one hits hard and you miss him, leaving you with nothing but a quick cast of desperation in hopes he is still there. Thank goodness there's a lot more fish in the sea.

Here is a pic of my Dad wading in the water on the far side of the sandbar.

Even though we both missed one, I was able to have a little luck later in the night. I was fishing my 5th lure: a watermelon seed rubber worm. I should preface this by saying that I had only 20 yards left of my skinny 6 lb test. It was later in the night so I figured there'd be no reason to add it now. Dumb decision. After a cast that nearly brought my line to the limit, I hooked a fighter. It immediately started pulled the little line I had left out into the river. I already lost one big one tonight; no way I could let it happen again. I knew that the line was almost at it's max with the fish still pulling. I had to save the little line I had left so with one hand I held the rod and the other I secured the line with my bare hand. My Dad was right beside me, helping me in every way he could. At one point he had his own rod out ready to merge the two lines in case mine was at its end. It's always good to have fishing partners like that. So by now the line was pulling hard into my skin but it was actually working and the fish was losing its fight. I dropped the line and reeled the fish in as fast as I could. Once it was near the shore, I ran into the water and pulled it safely to land. I was completely surprised to find the fish to be a catfish and that it hit on a rubber worm. That's one of the thrills of the river. You truly never know what you're going to reel in.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Summer Night at King's Creek

My Dad and I planned on bringing the boat out for the first time in a few years but the temperature wasn't right. High 80's, low 90's didn't give us much faith on the boat so we took our tackle to King's Creek, at worst it would be a refreshing walk through the creek. So we made our way to the creek and quickly noticed the change since last time we were there in late Spring: the water levels were extremely low, giving us a whole new playing field to work with. Our target: small mouth bass. Not only was the water low, but it was extremely transparent and glare-free which led me to see the hole of around 10 large fish (mostly Carp) slowly swimming around. Ya, I know our target was small mouth but I wanted to have a go at a larger fish, especially since I was using my new light-weight rod with just a 6 lb test, so I figured it could get interesting. I needed an earthworm quick, and thanks to Mr. Rock near the water, I was able to dig one up. A quickly rigged up a hook with the earthworm and dropped it right in the middle of the party. Didn't have much luck until 10 minutes later when I saw my line being tugged on. It seemed to me like a small bite but the fish actually sucked my lure straight up. I was surprised that the fish didn't even put up a fight (kind of like the Steelers vs. the Browns if that helps explain it). I thought it was a Carp but I found out it was actually a Freshwater Drum. Always a good feeling to catch a fish you've never caught before.


The rest of the evening consisted of finding spots too low for bass fishing but great for trout fishing when fall rolls around. What struck me was what I found at one of the holes. I was about to cast when I noticed something rather huge walking through the water. The best way to put it, it looked like a small lobster was dropped in the creek. This crawfish was atleast 5-6 inches (without any exaggeration). It's monstrous claws were raised in the water as it slowly walked through a bed of rocks. Me and my Dad tried to catch it but lost him in a smokescreen of mud. After that, we headed back for 5 more minutes at the larger fishing hole. Ended up reeling in this smallie using a trout magnet.
Didn't fill up the stringer but as always it was great getting out into nature, especially with my Dad.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Fishing since this Spring

My cousin Shane got me hooked on starting a fishing blog (check out his blog here). My Dad and I probably have gone fishing near 50 times this year. Not only is fishing a great excuse to get out of the everything but it's a great time just hanging out with my dad. We always have a great time fishing but I wanted to be able to go back on these trips and be able to get back to more than just the memories I have. That's what has me so intrigued to document all the trips we make. What I've learned from fishing is this: it's not about seeing how many fish you can catch in one trip, but it's about the adventure you go through getting to those fish. The feeling you get as soon as a fish on is unmatched. You could be having an awful day, with fishing or life in general, but as soon as that fish attacks that hook, you're in another zone. All that matters in your life at that point is that fish. Is it a big fish? How well is the hook set? I know it seems like a minor thing to catch a fish but it's the beauty and art of capturing a wild animal because you successfully deceived it that makes it an amazing experience.

Since this Spring I have taken various photos that I'll post here now and try to post current pictures from here on out.
 This bass was caught at Fernwood State Forest with my Dad. We have fished this ponds for years now and wanted to up the ante and find some new spots. So we got on Google Earth and found a pond a nice hike off the path. Nature wasn't our friend that day, in fact she was a jerk. The pond was surrounded by a wall of thorns and brush. It took us a great while to make it there but nonetheless we made it. Caught a few decent bass but nothing worth a second visit.
 One of my first trout in years. Caught on a Kastmaster in King's Creek, WV.
 Dad caught a nice bass at Salt Fork. There have been numerous Big Foot sightings there also but my camera jammed and I couldn't take any pictures.
 Fishing with my Dad and cousin Shane Murphy at Buckeye Lake. My Dad caught a tiny dead baby Catfish.
That's my girlfriend Amanda with a nice Perch she caught on our family vacation trip to Lake Chautauqua, NY.

That's all for now but I'll stay sure to post more on my next fishing adventures.