Fishing & Hunting in Oswego County, NY

First Ice on Oneida Lake

2012-01-24T11:58:00.000-08:00

By
Spider Rybaak

A walk on the ice.

Winter finally paved all of Oneida Lake in ice on January 15th, the third Sunday of the month. The sight of all that hard water was too much for some guys to handle, causing them to put away common sense and venture out onto the fresh, thin sheet. I waited on shore for short spells throughout the day hoping to catch one coming in (I knew enough not to go out there), but luck wasn’t with me and none came; it smiled on the anglers, however, because I didn’t hear of anyone falling through.

The following week witnessed a full menu of meteorological conditions: clear skies and sixty mph winds one day, heavy snow the next, unseasonably warm weather after that …typical NY weather. By mid-week, ice still claimed about two-thirds of the place, with huge holes punctuating it like Swiss cheese. Most of the north shore was open water.

On Thursday frigid temperatures swept out of the north, gripping Central New York in an icy embrace. Artic winds joined the fray on Friday, growing stronger and stronger as the day wore on, reaching speeds up to 40 mph at sunset. By morning, the lake looked like a deep-pan garlic pizza: a crystal clear base topped with patches of snow, ringed by a crust of huge fragments of squeaky-clean ice piled up to five feet high in spots.

Knowing the jagged ice clinging to shore resulted from the previous evening’s high winds breaking up the ice pack was enough to keep most experienced guys on shore. Still, a motley group of daredevils, die-hards and potential suicides went out Saturday morning. At last word, they all returned.

One guy riding around Lakeport Bay on an ATV wasn’t so lucky. Apparently, the snowmobilers whipping by all morning caused him to figure: I can do that. Well, he went out about 50 yards too far, over water that was 20-something feet deep, hit a weak spot and his $10,000.00 machine submerged like a wacky-rigged submarine. He managed to bail out and was last seen with some friends on Monday trying to pull the soggy four-wheeler out of the drink. I don’t know how they made out.

Temperatures on Saturday night, January 21, sank to single digits, welding the lake’s broken floes and spackling its ice holes into a solid, level surface by morning. On Sunday, the sun came up on colorful groups of ice-fishermen scattered on the ice like flowers over a field after a spring rain.

And while no one claimed the fishing was great, quite a few thought it was good. Perch running from 10 to 13 inches were the most cooperative. A few walleyes were caught, but the bite was disappointing.

Successful anglers claimed the fish were taken in water ranging from 18 to 25 feet deep. Buckeyes were the most productive bait but some did quite well gently shaking ice jigs tipped with spikes or Swedish Pimples flavored with whole minnows or just their heads.

The New York State Department of Environmental Conservation’s Web site offers an informative feature on ice fishing, covering everything from clothing to tackle and techniques. Check it out at http://www.dec.ny.gov/.

Warning, Cleveland, NY.

Dylan Hull, Waterville, NY, with a pair of keeper perch.

Chris Peck, Deansboro, NY, holding a legal walleye and a jack perch.

Oswego County wildlife.

Cleveland Docks.

First ice on Oneida Lake.

Snowshoing Cleveland's ice at Dusk.

Browns in Oswego for the Holidays

2011-12-30T08:43:00.000-08:00

by
Spider Rybaak

Oswego native and professional fly tier David Gagnon (dgagnon5489@gmail.com) with a couple nice browns he took on a custom jig he designed and tied.

A couple days before Christmas--work squared away, Holiday gift giving on my mind--I set out to go shopping at Great Northern Mall in Clay, about 20 miles away. In the wrong lane at NY 31’s eastern entrance to the place, I look over my shoulder to see if I can slip into the right lane. The center-pin rod stretched out on the floor in the center of my van catches my eye…

And I’m hooked. The next thing you know, I’m past the mall’s entrance, turning onto I-481 north on a heading for Oswego--to check out the stores, I suppose?

Never happened.

When the river finally came into view on the south end of the city, its flow was perfect, more than I could resist. Run-off from the heavy rains that soaked the Finger Lakes Region a few days earlier still swelled the stream but all the sediments had dropped to the bottom by now, leaving the water high and clean, ideal for sight feeders. Intuition played with my imagination, creating thoughts of massive runs of steelies down there; and the store of human weakness in my heart drew me to the rapids like the sight of ripe road-kill draws a crow to the curb.

Crossing the river on the Utica Street Bridge, I turned left at the light, parked in the fishing access site next to the Post Office, hiked down to the river and headed upstream to fish the north corner of the west dam.

I never made it that far. As I walked the fenced-in concrete retaining wall stretching from the powerhouse to the falls, I see a guy fighting a fish in the rapids below the first gate (two gated staircases allow easy access to the river).

A minute later he lands a gold-bellied male brown of about eight pounds and tosses it on shore, in the direction of another, slightly smaller brown already wedged between the rocks.

One huge male brown decked out in autumn splendor has a way of stopping me in my tracks. A pair is enough to sweep away my inhibitions, provoking me to beg, politely and sternly: “You mind if I fish that seam between the fast water and the emergency platform upstream of you?”

“Go ahead,” the guy replies. “That’s where I got these two. Right now I’m gonna fish above the spillway, to see if there’s a steelie in there.

My first eight to 10 attempts are complete failures. Center-pinning equipment takes some getting used to. I hadn’t used it since early spring and lost my touch.

Eventually my cast hits the targeted seam. I watched the float bob downstream in perfect time with the current, carrying my bubblegum colored Berkley Power Floating Trout Worm through the strike zone. A couple seconds later it disappears. I set the hook solidly into a feisty fish.

Before long, I’m leading a six-pound female brown to shore. Dave Gagnon, the guy who gave me his spot, works his way slowly upstream, offering to help me land my trophy. By the time he reaches me, I’ve already photographed the girl, and was preparing to release her.

“Want me to photograph you holding her?” he offered.

“Sure do. Thanks man.”

A couple high-fives later, and some serious whooping and hollering by me, Dave slowly heads back downstream; and I resume fishing.

A couple casts later, I’m into a steelie. The thing was right out’a SU mens basketball’s playbook; jumping and fast-breaking like Fab Melo in the paint. Gently coaxing the 18-inch female to shore, I remove her from the water long enough to take her picture, and release her.

Before I could wade out the five or so steps to my casting position, Dave’s into a fish. I head down to offer him assistance but he doesn’t need it. The brown is only about 14 inches, relatively easy to handle.

Releasing it, he casts out again and immediately gets another one, much bigger. After landing it, he calls it quits and heads for the fishing access site, three beautiful browns in tow; all caught on tiny jigs he designed and tied.

Another angler shows up as the sun touches the horizon and catches a brown on his third cast. He catches another in the half hour left to fish.

Rain and snow in Central New York over the Holidays continues feeding the Oswego River and its growing fat with browns and steelhead. These conditions should remain into the second week of the New Year.

Me and my brown.

A small steelie for the Holidays.

Dave's last brown for the day.

First Snow on the Salmon River

2011-12-21T07:17:00.000-08:00

By Spider Rybaak

Migell Wedderburn, Pennelville, NY, with a nice steelie he took in the catch-and-release section of the Salmon River on a home-made, egg-pattern fly.

Lake effect snow warnings kept crawling along the bottom of the screen while I watched Syracuse University’s basketball team trounce George Washington on December 10. Up to a foot was predicted to drop in the “snow zone,” a band running between northern Oswego and southern Lewis Counties.

First snow always excites me. After that, it progressively loses its appeal as winter drags on, so that by March snow’s the last thing in the world I’m dreaming about. But right now it’s kind’a magical, bringing memories of Christmases past, sugarplum fairies, fun--but useless--stuff like that.

So the next morning me and Susan headed for Pulaski to feast our senses on what promised to be one of this winter’s nicest, most scenic days—maybe get a chance to nail a steelhead, too.

Stepping out of the door, we were disappointed that a dusting of pure white wasn’t carpeting the neighborhood. A crinkly skim of ice etched the water in the bay out front (we live on Oneida Lake), but that was all the frigid autumn night left behind.

We got on I-81 and headed north. Snow was absent all the way to Parish. Suddenly, spots of whitebegan punctuating the countryside. Nothing exciting, yet, but the spots grew into pockets…pillows…sheets. By Tinker Tavern Road, a foot of snow blanketed the world in cold, hard innocence.

We got off the highway and headed south on NY 13. The storm turned the area into a winter wonderland…in autumn.

Natives expect—indeed, love—the effect extreme cold has on Oswego County. Winter comes early and stays late, drawing trophy trout into the Salmon River, cross-country skiers, snowshoers and snowmobilers to the Tug Hill’s vast tracts of snowy woods, photographers and artists to some of the most beautiful snow-draped, December scenery you’ll find in the Northeast.

So c’mon up some time this month and get an early taste of winter.

Susan Rybaak snowshoeing on first snow at Salmon River Falls, December 10, 2011.

Snowy Shoulders: Salmon River in Pineville.

Unidentified angler and his steelie; Ellis Cove.

Oswego County’s 2011 Big Game Season Off to a Good Start

2011-12-05T06:08:00.000-08:00

By Spider Rybaak


Kevin Marshall with his spikehorn.

It took me 50-something years to figure out there’s only a couple things in life I’m absolutely sure of: you can’t fool Mother Nature, and I make mistakes--a lot of ‘em, usually fooling myself by thinking I can get over on Mother Nature.

A good case in point is my decision to change my favorite deer hunting spot this season. The New York State Department of Environmental Conservation’s forecast for the 2011 season states that “Wildlife Management Unit 6G (the eastern Lake Ontario Plains area I love) “produced several years of high antlerless harvest…With take of adult female deer exceeding take of adult male deer for the last two years, hunters should expect to find a slightly smaller deer herd and a lower buck take in 2011.”

Since opening day is a once-a-year hunting opportunity, and my favorite spot is in WMU 7A, practically on the southern border of WMU 6G, I was caught in a dilemma: do I believe the experts or stay with my instincts and trust Mother Nature would provide. I went with the experts and spent opening day in another county, in a WMU the authorities predicted would be better than it’s been in the recent past.

Bad move! I didn’t see anything.

That night, I get a call from my hunting buddy Stan Ouellette, owner of Deer Creek Outfitters (315-298-3730), asking me how I did.

“Nothing,” I replied. “Heard some rustling and snorting, but didn’t see any flags. How’d you do?”

“We got a nice 10-pointer. If you want some photos, you gotta come up by Monday because we’re gonna skin it.”

You guessed it, Stan’s operation straddles WMU 6G and WMU 7A, right off NY 3. He cultivates several sprawling properties in the area for “quality deer management.”

So I get up there Monday night prepared to photograph a deer. When I enter the Quonset hut he uses for storage, bucks are hanging everywhere; Stan’s clients got two more since the phone call..

That was enough to convince me to change my hunting plans for the rest of the season to what they were before I began believing forecasts. The last weekend of the season will see me still-hunting in the woods on the eastern Lake Ontario plains in the morning, fishing the Salmon River for steelies in the afternoon, and returning to the nearby woods to hunt until dark.

The nice thing about accepting that you make mistakes is that you can learn from each of them. That’s the best way I know of going forward, even if it means going back.

Brian Barna, Lansdale, PA, with a 10-pointer, his first buck.

Roger Baleu, Groveland, MA, and his 8-pointer.

Salmon River Steel: Shimmering beneath the Surface

2011-11-30T09:04:00.000-08:00

By Spider Rybaak

Raritan, NJ, native Seth Correa with his 12-pounder taken at Altmar.

In terms of temperature, the past few weeks have been pretty much like any other November on the Salmon River. The one notable meteorological difference is that rainfall has been lower than average. And that makes arm-chair anglers worry the stream isn’t high enough to spur self-respecting chromers to storm in to feast on all the salmon eggs laying around.

But steelies aren’t bothered by such petty human anxiety. Indeed, even though the power company has reduced discharges from the reservoirs a couple notches because of low water, the lake’s chromers still have enough wiggle room to run the stream.

Busy surf-fishing for walleyes on Oneida Lake the past few days, I’ve been hearing all kinds of negative reports from guys standing next to me. One even claimed “the Salmon River is just a trickle of its former self, not fit for fallfish.”

Say what???!!!

So I went up last week to see for myself.

Boy, was he full of it. The water was running at about 335 CFS, lower than most gung-ho steelheaders would like, but still enough for the fish; and they were all over the place.

In Altmar, anglers stood shoulder-to-shoulder in both the fly-fishing only section and the regular regulations area. While the fish weren’t exactly tumbling over one another to hit the baits, the steady chorus of “fish on” echoing over the river indicated the bite was decent.

In Pineville, the action was even better. I watched several anglers land nice steelies.

Fish were hitting everything but the kitchen sink (one fella’ fished a large, white streamer he called the kitchen sink without catching anything). Tiny glo bugs and egg sacs, “chuck-and-ducked” in pockets, the heads of pools and along the edges of the current were effective.

Recent rains over the past couple days will raise the Salmon River and its tributaries enough to draw massive quantities of fresh steelies.

The stream’s floor is very slippery. Wear traction devices, a flotation device, polarized sunglasses and a wading staff for safety.

In addition, the water’s getting very cold. Falling in can result in immediate shock. Protect your upper half by wearing fabrics next to your skin that’ll keep you warm even when wet: polyester, wool or silk. Wear Wrangler’s Fleece lined jeans under your waders to keep your legs toasty.

Autumn Steel

Mike Vitalone does brother Matt one better with this impressive nine-pounder.

Matt Vitalone, Rome, NY, holding a five-pounder he took in Pineville.

Indian Summer on the Oswego River

2011-11-16T06:41:00.000-08:00

Syracusan Dave Bentley with a six-lb. brown.

Frosty nights riding the cold snap that blew through the Northeast the first week on November knocked most of the leaves off Oswego County’s trees. The majority floated gently to the ground, carpeting the woods in crackling bursts of brilliant autumn colors. Massive quantities, however, ended up in run-off, turning the Oswego River’s rapids into a raging kaleidoscope, creating headaches for anglers trying to keep the fallen foliage off their lines while fishing the high waters.

Fortunately, fall has many moods. Along with the smirk of biting rains and cold snaps comes a smiley face: Indian summer. Wednesday morning, November 9, saw one of these happy moments.

Beaming brightly when I got up, hanging in a bright blue sky washed in 50-something degrees, the sun convinced me to head up to Oswego to check out the fishing. To my delight, the river was down to summer levels. Varick Dam, which spewed a frightening torrent of foam and froth just a couple weeks ago, looked like a teenager squirting water between his front teeth. Indeed, the flow below was so low, I crossed the river in hip boots.

Not in a straight path, mind you. The ancient river bed is pretty flat, punctuated with crevices and pools. I started out at the first set of stairs just south of the power plant and zigzagged my way across, ending up at the foot of the falls on the east side.

Still, there was enough water to accommodate a steady flow of spawn heavy brown trout, late running kings—which were in pretty decent shape for this late—and caviar-minded steelhead. Just about every seam, pocket and slick in the rapids had fish.

Downstream of the powerhouse, guys were casting into the channel right at the end of the no fishing zone and walking their baits down, past the stairs to the small group that was still-fishing on bottom at the end of the wall.

Fish were evenly distributed throughout the rapids stretching from the dam to the Utica Street Bridge.

This month can be iffy but we can reasonably expect a couple more unseasonably pleasant days. It all adds up to being your best time of year to get close and personal with a whitewater, trophy brown trout; your last chance to get a spawning king juiced-up with raging hormones; and your first shot at a fall-run steelhead. And if it’s in your cards, you can even have a banner day and get all three.

While a bunch of fish are available from the safety of the fenced wall lining the river downstream of the powerhouse, wading the rapids offers a more personal sense of excitement and adventure. If you’re gonna walk the fast lane, wear traction devices on your boots, carry a wading staff to help keep your balance, wear polaroid sunglasses so you can see bottom through the water’s glare and a personal flotation device just in case the unthinkable happens and you get swept off your feet. Always pay attention to the falls and if more water is coming over than when you started, or if you hear the siren go off followed by announcements directing you to exit the river, head for shore immediately.

After all, there’s a lot of trout and salmon in the river in autumn and we want you back to help us catch ‘em again next week, next year...

Bob Sedorovitz of Scranton, PA, with a 13-lb brown.

Fishing at the northwestern corner of the Varick Dam

View of the dam: like a teen-ager squirting water between his teeth.

Larry Paccione, owner of Extinction's Custom Rods (607-588-7077), Conesville, NY, holding a late-run king.

Clay Winter, Conesville, NY, with a nice steelie he took below the dam.

A happy angler, who posed on condition of anonymity, holding a nice steelie and brown he took from the rapids below Varick Dam.

Gerorge White and Jackie Stocum, Corning, NY, with the four monster kings they took below Varick Dam on November 9, 2011.

Oswego River's Monster Bottom Feeders

2011-11-04T06:17:00.000-07:00

McGrath helping his associate Darryl Storie hold a 30-pounder.

Autumn swells the world in plenty. Forest, field, lake or stream…it doesn’t matter; they’re all brimming with nature’s bounty, and best of all, everything’s at its biggest and healthiest.

But all locations aren’t created equal; and Oswego County’s greatest claim to fame is its aquatic resources. Salmon, brown trout, steelhead, walleyes, bass, panfish, catfish, you name it, we’re loaded with ’em…big ones.

That’s no idle boast. One wide-eyed local, speaking on condition of anonymity, claims,“There’s so many fish around here this time of year, they’ve been known to overflow the waters.”

“You don’t believe me?” he continues, “check out the Salmon River or creeks like Grindstone and Little Sandy. Walk along the shore. Before long, you’ll run into salmon that beached themselves during the spawning run.”

And it ain’t just salmon and trout. Cousin Staash claims: “from mid-September through mid-November, I celebrate the year’s end by hitting quiet stretches of the Oswego River to take in the last warm rays, watch colors floating in the wind and water, and meditate, all while fishing for monstrous bottom feeders.”

Now, I like to do battle with a powerful catfish or carp as much as the next guy. Unfortunately, Staash likes to fish alone. Still, I figured being related carried some weight. So I asked him if I could tag along next time he went.

“NO!”

His response was so brutally clear, it almost dragged me down to the bowels of despair. But it wasn’t to be, I guess, because right when I felt I was slipping under, I looked up at my answering machine and saw it blinking. The message was from Mike, owner of McGrath & Assoc. Carp Angling Services (315-469-5039; mmcgrath2@twcny.rr.com).

“Spider,” it said, “We’re going to the Oswego River on Sunday, for the biggest carp of the season. You’re welcome to come along."

Cool, I thought. This guy’s even better at nabbing bottom suckers then my cousin.

So last Sunday at 9 a.m., I find myself all alone on the lawn below Lock 06 on the Oswego Canal. The plan called for everyone to be there at 11 a.m., but I’m always looking for an advantage and arrived a couple hours early hoping to claim the best spot.

All in vain, though. I was rigged for big catfish but the cold front that dropped the water temperature a couple degrees during the night shut ‘em down. I figured it would probably take the sun till noon to warm things up enough to spark a bite.

Around 11 a.m., I’m biteless - but happy. Overhead, chevrons of migrating waterfowl pierced the sky like noisy arrowheads. In the water off to my right a pair of muskrats was arguing about something, taking turns chasing one another. A couple spent salmon milled around at the base of the wall below my feet. It was like I was in the front row of the balcony over autumn’s stage, and time, its curtain, started new scenes with each passing minute.

Fortunately, the carp master, his son Mike, McGrath associate Darryl Storie and James Daher, owner of Mickey’s Bait and Tackle in North Syracuse, show up and break the spell.And they’re packing a tarp load of goodies: grains, powders, juices and other ingredients Mike uses for chum.

He starts mixing the goodies right away. Grits, dried milk, corn, unidentifiable stuff with names I couldn’t pronounce went into the bowl. Packing the mash into wads the size of hardballs, Mike launches them into the drink with a slingshot.

Baiting a couple lines, he casts out and places the rods in holders.

A minute later, the first carp hits; then another, followed by another, and another… You’d land a fish, re-bait, cast out again and a minute later, sometimes less, you’re into another fish.

According to McGrath, we landed about 1,000 pounds of carp in about four hours. We would have caught a lot more but photos, high-fiving, manly stuff like that takes time.

One was a 30-something-pounder, a carp the likes of which I’ve never seen caught before. My eyes have feasted on larger specimens in aquariums, magazines and on TV, but they’ve never seen a bigger one up close and personal.

Another would have gone 25 pounds. The rest ranged from 10 to 20 pounds.

"The Oswego River's carp fishery is under-fished," claims McGrath, the Pied Piper of carp, adding, "Autumn is the best time of year to get a really big one."

Mcgrath mixing the chum.


James Daher, owner of Mickey's Bait and Tackle and McGrath holding Jim's 25+-pounder.

Mike McGrath holding Mike Jr's. trophy as the boy looks on.

Walleyes Return to Shore

2011-10-27T10:22:00.000-07:00

Beach Scene: Oneida Lake at dusk, in Autumn.

A few nights ago, I noticed a bunch of cars parked at the abandoned bridge at the mouth of Oneida Creek. I turned around and went to investigate. Roughly 15 guys were fishing from shore, and in the 10 minutes I stood there watching, four landed walleyes.

I returned to my car…rubbing my hands in glee. You see, I knew the reason they were there wasn’t because a large school of walleyes came in—if that had been the case, I would have seen a lot more caught.

The reason they were putting up with shoulder to shoulder competition on the east shore was because a stiff wind was blowing out of the south, sending whitecaps slamming into the entire length of Oneida Lake’s north shore, making for uncomfortable fishing.

And if my 50-something years of fishing have taught have me anything, it’s that this marvelous species loves the wind, and, as often as not, follows it.

So I aimed my wheels for Oswego County’s southeastern corner. When I got to the Cleveland Dock fishing access site on NY 49, the wind was blowing so hard I was afraid it would wrap the violently swinging, wooden DEC sign around its holder.

Still, several guys were standing shoulder to shoulder in its shadow. The most successful were casting into the channel leading into the tiny harbor at the mouth of Black Creek. Unfortunately, there’s only room for one, so anglers had to wait their turn. When the guy on the spot caught his limit, he’d leave and the guy next to him would take his place, catch his limit...

That wasn’t the only productive spot, however. Walleyes sweep in and out of the dock all night long, heading for the mouths of its two tributaries to pig out on the minnows gathering there each evening this time of year. Both are on posted property. However, the fish come within range of anglers casting from the harbor’s sagging concrete wall when they round the corner from the west.

Hardy anglers take their fair share of walleyes by wading out off the southern edge of the FAS and casting from the decaying breakwall lying there like a broken concrete snake. While they have to put up with waves and wind slamming into them, they’re rewarded by having three directions in which to cast, any one of which can be carrying a school of “eyes” heading in.

From now until first ice, walleyes will be cruising the lake’s shoreline at night following schools of minnows looking for warmer water. The bite can happen at any time and can last anywhere from one fish to everyone’s limit.

Vary your retrieve. The fish will respond to a Rapala Husky Jerk retrieved steadily one minute, jerked the next, worked slowly and steadily the next cast, and twitched, with barely any movement at all, after that.

Other public spots worth trying are the park at Taft Bay, and Phillips Point at Three Mile Bay/ Big Bay Wildlife Management Area.

Autumn at Cleveland Dock at dusk

Night bite.

Cleveland "Eye"

Rich Carew with one of three walleyes he caught in less than 30 minutes at Cleveland Dock.

Jill Jerominek, of Osceola, with a nice "eye."

Oswego Drainage Cats

2011-10-25T07:44:00.000-07:00

The author with a nice five-pounder taken in the city of Oswego.

Catfish, the Rodney Dangerfield of the aquatic world, is finally getting some respect; of all places, from the State Department of Environmental Conservation. The DEC launched these handsome bottom feeders into the spotlight by placing a gorgeous specimen on the cover of its “New York Freshwater Fishing: 2011-12 Official Regulations Guide.” And while other species are included in the guide’s main theme, “Those Other Fish,” none is quite as popular as the catfish.

In fact—depending on who you talk to, of course--catfish are considered America’s most sought after fish. Available in all the Lower 49 States, they’re relatively easy to catch, grow huge, fight well when hooked and make pretty decent table fare to boot.

And while Oneida Lake is listed in Jim Everard’s piece: “Fishing for New York’s Big Cats,” as one of the state’s top seven spots for trophies, he could have just as easily included the Oneida and Oswego Rivers, too.

I know it, and so does a select group of locals who places cats right up there with the more glamorous tackle busters in their lists of favorites, alongside the likes of bass, walleye, pike...

Since they’re one of my favorite species, especially in autumn when they’re at their biggest and hungriest, I figured I’d spend a few days fishing for catfish pictures so I could do a blog on ‘em. My idea turned out to be loaded with thrills I’ll never forget.

You see, I went to a few spots from my youth, when cats were always readily available to boys whose only transportation was a bike. What I found was that the fishing is better, the catfish bigger, than existed in my fondest memories.

Oswego River Drainage

This fabulous watershed is loaded with cats...big ones. Some of the largest come right out of the river in downtown Oswego. Right now, salmon cadavers literally carpet the floor in food, so you have a lot of bait competing with you. Still, the wait can be worth it: I’ve seen cats in the 15-lb range taken off the park walls lining both sides of the river in the heart of the city.

What’s more, catfish thrive in the entire river. Access is plentiful in Fulton and all the villages along the way.

Further upstream, specifically the Oneida River, also boasts good populations of these horny critters. Caughdenoy is famous--by locals, anyway-- for its trophies, both above the dam and in the plunge pool below. The canal in Brewerton is also a big cat hot spot.

Then there’s Oneida Lake. Channel cats, NY’s native breed, like deep, moving water. And that’s mostly found in the channel running the length of the lake, out of bounds for bank anglers. However, Oswego County provides a solution: Cleveland Docks. Located in the village of Cleveland, this spot has deep water right below its sagging concrete walls, and the lake’s cats find it a comfortable place to hang out while picking off individual minnows straying from the massive baitballs that swim in and out of the harbor constantly.

Notorious scavengers, catfish will hit just about anything, including lures. Still, a minnow, cut bait, shrimp or commercially produced offering like Berkley Gulp Catfish Dough and Berkley Powerbait Catfish Bait (they don’t feed, bleed or need refrigeration—perfect for keeping in the trunk or glove compartment), fished on bottom, work well.
Worms are good, too, but you might have to put up with everything in the drink stealing lots of your bait before a fat cat gets to it.

For everything you need to know--plus a whole lot more--to catch NY’s largest whiskered fish, read DEC Fish Biologist Jim Everard’s article “Fishing for New York’s Big Cats, ” in the current fishing regulations guide, available for free wherever fishing licenses are sold.

Mark Davis of Westmoreland holding a nice, 13-lb cat taken at Cleveland Docks.

Utica Native, Poelash Anm, showing a six-lb catfish he took on a minnow at Cleveland Docks.

Skinny Creek Salmon

2011-10-05T20:00:00.000-07:00

A couple dudes who requested anonymity--and their cohos weren't talking, either.

Eastern Lake Ontario witnessed the beginning of the largest salmon run of the season--thus far, anyway--on the night of September 28th. By the following morning, reliable sources on the Salmon River reported fish where plentiful throughout the river.

And Pulaski wasn’t the only spot hosting spawn-happy salmon.

Oswego got massive quantities of fish, too. On cue, their run was spurred by heavy rains that drenched Central New York, especially the Finger Lakes and Oneida Lake regions, last week, raising water levels in the Oswego River by almost a foot. So many fish charged the River in the city, folks driving south on NY 48 Thursday evening could see salmon trying to jump the Varick dam. Fortunately, the water was so high at the foot of the structure, the effervescence so thick, it cushioned the blows and the fish didn’t get seriously hurt slamming into the barrier, only a little humiliated and a bit frustrated; but they tried and tried again until exhausted.

This writer’s favorite form of fishing is for large fish on skinny creeks. Summer smallmouths in the Salmon River, steelhead in Little Sandy Creek, big native browns in Scriba Creek, and, most of all, huge salmon in Oswego County’s creeks and brooks.

So I went and tried my luck on Thursday afternoon. I stopped at Trout Brook, at the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation Fishing Access Site on the shoulder of cty. Rte. 48. I was a bit disappointed to see the water was at normal levels. Once I got in, however, I was excited by all the fish. I counted at least 15 fish, a mix of kings and cohos, in about ½ mile, and caught a coho.

I never made it all the way to the mouth but a couple guys who passed me heading back to the road, two limits of kings in tow , said the whole creek was loaded. “The further you go downstream, the more fish you’ll see,” one added with great excitement.

After about an hour, I split for the mouth of Grindstone Creek, at Selkirk Shore’s State Park. When I pulled into the parking lot, a line of guys stood atop the concrete wall at creek’s end--its mouth wanders and without the wall it would have sliced through the parking lot long ago.

Before I could wet a line, three guys had fish on at the same time. All three landed them.

I wasn’t so lucky. I hooked a couple but they split back to the lake and the last I knew, they were heading for Nine Mile Point, probably on their way to the Oswego River.

The skinny creeks are loaded with fish right now and will remain so for as long as the rain keeps coming. Other Oswego County thin streams worth trying are Little Sandy Creek and Orwell Brook.

So, if you’ve never experienced the thrill of hooking a monster salmon high on hormones, in a creek so small you can walk across it on most days, now is your best chance of the season.

Peter Barnes, a native of Dingman's Ferry, PA, straining over a king he took in Grindstone Creek.

Mike Isabella, Rotterdam, NY, takes a king from Grindstone Creek.

Schenectady, NY's, Larry Millen with his Grindstone Creek king.

Oswego Swollen with Kings

2011-10-05T13:31:00.000-07:00

Glen Lystash, Hardwick, NJ, shows off his hard-won trophy.

Nothing spurs ripe kings and cohos to charge into Lake “O’s” tributaries like an autumn moon washed by heavy rains.

True, Oswego County escaped the brunt of the inclement weather that shrouded much of Central New York last week (September 18-24). However, her largest river, the Oswego, drains thousands of square miles, including the Finger Lakes and Oneida Lake. And it takes a while for all that water to finally reach the city at its mouth. When it does, it signals the salmon waiting out in the lake to start revving their fins because it’s party time!

So, Saturday morning I called Larry Muroski, over at Larry’s Oswego Salmon Shop (315-342-2778), to see if any new fish were coming in.

“Yup,” he replied. “The river’s full of ‘em.”

Larry’s a man of few words but great on enthusiasm. When I heard his tone, I knew the fish were on the move.

The lake launched this season’s most significant run on Friday. The following morning, anglers who were expecting “just decent” action by the steady numbers trickling in all week were surprised by all the fish that were present, prompting one,who was retying after a king broke off, his fifth loss in less than two hours, to complain “These fish are so big and so fresh I can’t hold onto them.”

“I’m a 20-year veteran of the Oswego River’s salmon runs and I’ve never seen so many fish in September,” he added.

And it’s only just begun. If the past is any guide, this run will continue for the next few days, until the water drops.

But even then, fish will enter this large stream regularly for the next four weeks, at least. A good way to gauge your chances of success is to follow weather and temperature patterns: cold nights generally send new fish upstream, and so does rain.

Some browns are present, too, but I didn’t see any steelhead. Browns will bearound in great quantities all of October. Good numbers of steelhead should start appearing the second week of the month and continue pouring in through December.

For Safety’s Sake

With all this water feeding it, the Oswego River is probably the most run-of-sensitive stream in the state. Combined with the extreme fluctuations caused by ebbs and flows in hydroelectric power generation, the river can rise a foot or more in seconds…and I’m not exaggerating. Make a mental note of water levels on rocks, walls and depth gauges, how much is coming over the dam, before stepping in. If you see, or feel, the water rising, get out immediately. If you hear sirens, followed by warnings, head for shore. Finally, wear a personal flotation device—it can be a life saver.

While nowhere near as slippery as the Salmon River, the Oswego has its slick spots. Wear Korkers or similar traction devices to help you keep your footing. A pair of Polarized sunglasses helps penetrate the surface glare so you can see where you’re stepping—and easily spot fish, too.

Fulton Carp Action

On September 17, carp, another of the river’s popular leviathans, were the object of the Wild Carp Club of Central New York’s attention. Seventeen members of the group reportedly caught and released over a ton of the beaststhat day in Fulton, New York.

For more on the club, including this season’s last three events, call Jason Bernhardt at 315-427-7109; Jason@wildcarpcompanies.com.

Bobby Fuller and Jeff Proctor with an average-size king.

Donata Taylor, Redding PA, uses some fancy rod handling techniques on an uncooperative king.

Auburn, NY's, Lee Rusin with his day's catch.

The Returns are Here Again

2011-09-30T08:11:00.000-07:00

Salmon Update: This season's largest run of kings entered the Salmon River Wednesday night, September 28. They're still entering the river as of this update, 11:30 a.m., Thursday morning. With rain predicted straight through the weekend, they should continue pouring in until the beginning of next week.

Owen Baxter, and his dad Don, of Boonville, N.Y. show off a Salmon River king

All the rain we’ve been having lately has spurred salmon into running Lake “O’s” tributaries a little early this year. In fact, enough fish entered the Salmon and Oswego Rivers in the first week of September to raise angler excitement to peak-run levels. And while a lot of guys got early thrills, these initial fish haven’t put a dent in the regular runs. Which, are just getting started.

Within the last few weeks, major numbers stormed the Salmon River (the Oswego always turns on a little later and should pick up this week). Anglers have reported tackling with near record numbers of kings and cohos.

Fortunately, for fish and fishermen alike, decent rain at regular intervals coupled with forecasts for more, means river conditions should remain almost perfect and stream banks and bottoms should be full of both for the next several weeks.

While Mother Nature is doing her part to make the angling experience more enjoyable, we are also realizing better conditions as the NYS DEC has been diligent in their efforts to eliminate lifters and snaggers from the environment.

“Now that lifting, lining, whatever…aren’t fashionable anymore, the chances of catching a clean fish are better than ever,” says Sean Rae, a Syracusan who fishes the river. “I’ve caught two today; neither one had wounds or hooks in its body.”

All the usual offerings are producing. Plastic eggs still seem to be the bait of choice but a lot of anglers are tossing flies, egg sacs and sponge to good effect, too.

What’s more, folks targeting early steelhead with everything from beads and Berkley Floating Trout Worms to yarn flies are finding their offerings are luring a lot of salmon.

Good numbers of fish are available throughout the river. Indeed, they’re stacked like cordwood below the bridge in Altmar.

The stream’s population of salmon should remain relatively consistent throughout the day for the next month or so as Brookfield Power continues to help balance the ebb and flow of natural precipitation. You see, the power company has agreed to release a steady stream high enough to draw and hold the beasts throughout the spawning season, a partnership that almost guarantees your trophy will be there waiting for several weeks to come.

For Safety’s Sake

The Salmon River is one of the slipperiest in NY. Wear clean Korkers or similar traction devices to help you keep your footing. A pair of Polarized sunglasses should be worn to help penetrate the glare so you can see where you’re stepping—and easily spot your prey.

Spawned in the Tug Hill Plateau, the Salmon is very sensitive to run-off and can rise quickly. Make a mental note of water levels before stepping in. In other words, note its location on a large object like a rock, bridge abutment, root ball or windfall. If you see, or feel, the water rising, get out immediately. Experts advise wearing a flotation device—it can be a life saver.

A hen coho taken by the author on September 21.

Triple Deuce Charter's Matt Rubley, a Pulaski native, admiring a large male coho he took on September 21.

Fishing at Ellis Cove on the Salmon River

Watching the fish from the bridge in Altmar

Stanley Cole of Snowcamp, N.C. fly-fishing for kings in the catch-and-release section of the river in Altmar.

Ron Haney of Altmar, who lost his right arm in an accident, shows how he fishes for kings

Pond Hawgs

2011-09-27T06:36:00.000-07:00

Pat with an average-size Sandy Pond bucketmouth.

Sandy Pond is mostly known as a splendid sandy beach bordered by majestic sand dunes where sunbathers toast themselves to a symphony of high winds, roaring waves and the cries of water birds of every feather.

On the other side of the dune sits the real Sandy Pond. Covering roughly 2,400 acres, it’s the largest embayment in the Eastern Lake Ontario Dune and Wetland Area, a 17-mile long natural barrier system containing the tallest sand dunes between Cape Cod and Lake Michigan.

The beauty of the place makes it extremely popular. Much of its shoreline is developed with camps, homes, and campgrounds. The place gets so crowded in summer, I never gave its warm weather fishery any thought.

However, I always knew “the Pond” was a well for northern pike and perch in winter, and crappies after ice-out. Some guys I normally consider reliable sources of information claimed it was a bass hot-spot in summer, but when I went with them, we got skunked every time. So I ignored it from then on.

That was, until I went fishing on Oneida Lake with Pat Miura last July (see blog post of Aug. 2, 2011). One of the most popular fly-fishing guides on the Salmon River (315-777-3570; pmiura@aol.com ), Pat spends his summers pursuing bass.

As often happens, our conversation drifted around our fishing experiences. I mentioned my lousy luck on Sandy Pond.

“Really!” he said, incredulously, “There’s a lot of bass in Sandy Pond…Some really big ones, too.”

“Oh yeah,” I countered, “Prove it.”

“OK,” he replied.

Late last month we fished the place and I’ve been eating humble pie ever since.

Only averaging 8 feet deep, it’s loaded with bass habitat: docks, creek mouths, windfalls, sprawling weed beds, boating channels leading to campgrounds and summer camps, reed fields, you name it. The problem is, you gotta look for the stuff.

You see, Sandy Pond has…lots of sand; sandbars stretching for hundreds of acres, in fact. And you wanna avoid fishing over these barren spots.

Once we located a fishy looking area, all the usual suspects worked: floating lures like Zara Spooks and buzzbaits in calm areas, Berkley Powerbaits, especially Texas-rigged 4-inch Finesse Worms and Carolina-rigged 6-inch Finesse Worms in and along weed edges, Smithwick Rogues jerked in deep water and Berkley’s Heavy Weight fat Sink Worms fished wacky style.

During the heat of the day, I found finesse presentations extremely gratifying. A good braided line like Nanofil on my spinning reels and Spider Wire Fluorobraid on my Abu Garcia Revo and Toro Winch allowed me to feel even the slightest take.

This time of year the pond prepares to hibernate. Most of the boating crowd has gone back home. With hunting and salmon seasons just around the corner, a lot of local pressure is removed from the waves, making it possible to find some peace on the pond.

Pat says autumn is one of the best times to fish Sandy Pond. The bass are big, fat and cooperative, the scenery is colorful, and the days are brisk, making for the kind of trips you’ll be telling your grandkids about.

Casting to some heavy brush.

Bassin' in the reeds.

My biggest of the day came out of some heavy cover clinging to a sand dune.

Curtiss Gale Wildlife Management Area: Fulton’s Primordial Woods

2011-09-06T10:55:00.000-07:00

Trees so tall you can't see where the canopy begins.

About a mile south of Fulton, a New York State Department of Environmental Conservation sign hangs on the west shoulder of Cty. Rte. 57, its golden letters announcing the Curtiss Gale Wildlife Management Area.

You search in vain, left and right, up and down the road, for a parking site or access point (the road on its north end is a private driveway).The only way in is from the shoulder of the highway or from the WMA’s 1,000 or so feet of Oswego River waterfront.

And if you decide to hike in, don’t expect to find even the barest amenity like a trail.

No, this lack of human intervention isn’t a sign of our tough economic times and things to come; it’s the result of DEC honoring an agreement it made with the pair of gentlemen who gave this magnificent patch of woods to the state to insure its rare, primordial beauty is never blemished by human kindness and remains a refuge for wildlife.

You see, H. Salem Curtiss and Thomas K. Gale donated the area to the DEC with the stipulation that hunting and trapping are prohibited.

That’s one of the things that make the spot unusual: hunting is a management tool used on all the other WMAs in the state.

Seems the donors’ kind restriction was contagious, spawning a rare moment of cooperation among all concerned.

Normally when a pristine piece of property this close to a metropolitan area is acquired, selfish interests band together to develop it, usually destroying its natural makeup with bathrooms, fences, and groomed trails, making it look like a franchise of the state park system.

Instead, they left the place to nature’s devices; and wow, what a job she’s done!

The forest has never seen mechanized equipment. Its rolling complexion doesn’t have one rut. Instead, the ground is carpeted in a uniform patchwork of plants and forest litter.

And the floor is old; older than the old growth trees reaching so high you need binoculars to recognize the leaves.
I know…I got a stiff neck trying.

I had to identify several by their bark. A black cherry boggled my mind; how it managed to grow so straight and tall is nothing short of miraculous. Tulip poplars, maples, oaks, hickories, beechnuts, you name it, tower to heights I never knew the species could reach. They’re so far up there, in fact, it’s surprising the Federal Aviation Administration doesn’t make them wear blinking lights.

These behemoths aren’t the exception; the forest’s full of majestic old growth. Adam Perry, a wildlife biologist with the state Department of Environmental Conservation puts it in a nutshell: “There’s a lot of really old, big trees there. If you’re into big trees, it’s the best place in Oswego County to see a bunch in a small area.”

Covering only 45 acres, Curtiss Gale WMA is one of the smallest in the system. Straddled by the highway and river on the east and west, and posted signs to the north and south, it’s virtually impossible to get lost--or even disoriented--in the place.

And that’s great for family groups and others who fear wandering off the beaten path. The moment you step in, the trees start to dwarf you but never so much you have to worry about losing your way out.

To learn more about WMAs, including their locations, go to www.dec.ny.gov/outdoor/7768.html.

One of countless giant tulip poplars.

No trails through Curtiss Gale WMA's magic forest.

Oswego River’s Master Chef

2011-09-06T10:37:00.000-07:00

McGrath with a carp... they kept coming all night long.

On the water, Mike McGrath II looks like your average angler. But look close enough and you’ll see the guy’s fishing habits are anything but common. You see, the man’s favorite game is carp, and he owes his extraordinary success to his knowledge of carp cuisine.

Not cooking the brutes, mind you--hell, seafood chefs are a dime a dozen. But preparing meals that carp find so irresistible, they pack so thick into holes he chums, their wakes swamp the shoreline.

OK, that might be exaggerating things a bit. But the fact is the man knows more about the tastes of rough fish than anyone I’ve ever met. In fact, he’s so savvy about their dining habits, his firm, McGrath & Associates Carp Angling Services (315-882-1549; mmgrath2@twcny.rr.com), is famed for providing fishing adventures dreams are made of.

While most anglers fantasize about fishing action so fast and furious their arms ache for weeks afterwards, few ever have their dreams come true. A trip with McGrath, on the other hand, leads to so many carp, you’re immediately inducted into an exclusive group of smiling anglers incapable of ever wearing a straight face again.

Now, I’ve known about the river’s fantastic rough fish populations since early childhood. Back in the 60s, me and the boys would chip in to buy a can of kernel corn, go to our favorite fishin’ hole, throw three-quarters of the can into the drink to draw the fish, sit down and wait. We caught a lot of carp…but we had to wait. And we waited a lot between hits.

Not master carp chef McGrath. He reduces the waiting time to anywhere from a few seconds to a couple minutes by chumming the area with a fragrant recipe he calls a “tending pac” or “12 pac.”

In a big bowl, he mixes crushed popcorn, crème corn, quick oats, puffed wheat, corn pops, Panko bread flakes (Japanese breadcrumbs) and millet. Adding Marukyu carp sauce or R&W Carp juice for added scent, and reconstituted calve’s milk replacement as a binder, he mashes the ingredients into a ball and squeezes it 12 times; hence the name 12 pac.

“One youngster I know spits in his bait to bind it,” says McGrath. “We call him animal.”

After lobbing several baseball-sized chunks of the stuff into the spot he wishes to fish, and scattering several handfuls of boiled feed corn around the site to whet their appetites further, he gears up.

“This fishing is so brutal, I have to re-spool at least twice a month,” he says, while winding 14-lb Stren mono onto his Alvey reel, an Australian contraption which allows the spool to be moved so it’ll cast from the front like a spinning reel, or the side like a center-pin.

Terminal tackle consists of a slip sinker on the main line, a barrel swivel and a couple snelled hooks. The hooks are tied side-by-side onto the swivel’s bottom ring.

Baiting each of the hooks with a corn pop, he encases them in an egg-sized 12 pac and casts.

A carp is usually munching on the offering before the water can dissolve the 12 pac.

I reduced the time between hits even more by fishing a single corn puff dipped in Marukyu carp sauce, enticing numerous catfish to hit before the bait could reach bottom.

Mike, being a carp purist, wasn’t as thrilled as I, a catfish enthusiast.

“We’re fishing for carp, he reminded me. “When I start getting too many catfish, I cast to a different spot.”

I spent the next hour or so catching and releasing so many fish I broke out in a sweat. It was as heavenly a fishing experience as a mortal angler could ever hope to find down here.

All made possible by a guy who looked beyond prejudice, recognized the value of the Oswego River’s incredible carp population and founded McGrath & Associates Carp Angling Associates, an affordable guide service to fishing excitement that’ll take you beyond your wildest dreams.

McGrath mixing his secret tending pac (carpspeak for chum).

Terminal rig showing hooks holding line bait (carpspeak for bait).

Baited hooks wrapped in tending pac.

McGrath with the prize.

McGrath Associate's Darryl Storie holding a bonus catfish.

Oneida Lake: Hawgmouth Capital of Central New York

2011-08-02T10:01:00.000-07:00

Pat Miura holding a fat, five-pounder.

Perceptions have a life of their own.

For instance, a couple of weeks ago, I would have argued that when it comes to bass, Oneida Lake is bronzeback territory. Today I’d have to say it’s a hawgmouth hotspot.

That’s what I said, hawgmouth. The largemouths in the lake are so big, you might as well put hawg right in their name!

I learned that the most pleasant way possible. Pat Miura, the only Salmon River guide I know of who specializes exclusively in fly-fishing, (315-777-3570; pmiura@aol.com), showed me while proving he knew how to catch bass, too, on Redfield Reservoir earlier this summer (click here to read that blog).

“Oneida Lake’s my favorite largemouth bass spot in the state,” claimed Miura, matter-of-factly, while removing the hook from his 10th bass of the day.

“Really?” I responded.

“The place is loaded with daggone largemouths. You wanna go sometime?”

“You’re on,” I replied; “how about the end of July?”

We went in the middle of the third week, the hottest day of the year—so far. Temperatures hovered just below 100. The sun’s rays made us sweat so profusely you could boil eggs on our foreheads.

Still, the fish were active. Right when we launched, we saw what appeared to be bass attacking minnows on the surface over deep weeds.

Pat starts out tossing a hard jerkbait. Before his 10th jerk, he reports “Fish on” and immediately lands a 20-inch walleye.

Next cast he’s got another…then another…and so on.

By his fifth walleye, I figure I better switch to a jerkbait. Before I could tighten the knot on my Bomber, Pat lands his sixth, the last one to cooperate in that spot.

Stubborn cuss that I am, I cast a couple dozen times anyway. Fortunately, I got a northern, one of my favorite fish.

Next we hit the weeds around the big islands. Once again, Pat shows me how good he is by landing about six largemouths averaging 1 ½ pounds and a bronzeback of about three pounds—in less than an hour.

All I got was a pickerel. It’s hard fishing behind a guy like him, I thought, jealousy welling in my heart.

“Now we’re gonna get serious,” Pat announces. We take off for the northwestern corner.

Big Bay, Three Mile Bay, bays with no name, even no bays (we fished the open lake, too) it didn’t matter, the guy hooks largemouths. All the while, I’m casting my heart out coming up with nothing but weeds.

So I switch to a 4-inch Berkley Power Worm rigged Texas Style. I drop the offering at the edge of a clump of weeds and get the slightest series of taps imaginable. Setting the hook gently (thinking it was a small rock bass, I didn’t want to rip too big a hole in its jaw), I wasn’t prepared for the intensity and duration of the struggle that ensued.

Pat knew it was a big bucketmouth and warned me to be cautious.

“This can’t be a largemouth,” I shot back. “I never caught one that fought this hard.” It’s gotta be a 20 pound sheepshead, or carp, maybe even a sturgeon…

My Abu Garcia Vendetta Rod and Revo SX reel combo proved their mettle and a few minutes later, the fish shows: a bucketmouth so big, it barely fit into my field of vision..

“Now that’s a hawgmouth,” I squealed like a Cub Scout holding his first sunny. “You see the size of this thing?”

And that was my last of the day.

But Pat kept right at it. He even caught one as big as mine, plus a couple only a few ounces smaller. In fact, he caught and released about 20 largemouths whose total weight would have been at least 50 pounds; on the hottest day of the year, no less.

We didn’t keep anything. Pat never does. Just fishes…and releases…and fishes some more.

“The fish will remain active all of August,” says Miura.

And as summer’s greens bleed into the reds and golds of autumn, the bite will only get better, he adds.

Pat and a chunky smallmouth he took on the east end of Dunham Island.

My five-pounder; taken in Big Bay.

Pat releasing two of his six walleyes.

Keeping the Nuts Out 101

2011-07-22T10:42:00.000-07:00

Pullin'...

Ten drift boats manned by members of the Oswego County River Guides Association, in league with a small flotilla of local environmentalists ranging from Albion Fish and Game Club members to independent kayakers and canoeists, descended on the Salmon River estuary on the morning of July 10, 2011, to get their hands wet pulling water chestnuts.

John DeHollander, District Manager of the Oswego County Soil and Water Conservation District, was on hand at the staging area at Pine Grove launch site to help coordinate the event, man the registration table and answer questions.

While removing each plant by hand is primitive, it’s the most environmentally friendly way to rid the estuary of these exotic invaders.

You see, harvesting water chestnuts mechanically takes a terrible toll on indigenous flora, and “you’d do more damage than good,” claims DeHollander. “By hand pulling, you remove enough to limit their spreading and if you keep at it, you can eradicate them completely,” he adds.

Similar “pulls” have been conducted on the Oswego River by other groups. Lake Ontario’s second largest tributary, the stream is much larger than the Salmon River and its infestation is far greater.

Still, “We’re starting to see a dent in the Oswego River’s infestation,” boasts DeHollander. “Things look promising. Provided funding is available, it looks like we’ll be able to control it.”

And that’s a goal everybody from anglers and boaters to waterfront owners are shooting for because the plants grow so thick in shallow spots like bays and coves (a couple are located right off the shoulder of State Route 48 between Fulton and Oswego), some folks claim blue herons walk on top of the mats.

That may be stretching things a bit. An annual aquatic plant, water chestnuts spring from spiny nuts buried in the mud. Their slender, flexible stems can grow 15 feet tall and are crowned by floating green rosettes comprised of saw-toothed, triangular leaves held aloft by bladder-like appendages growing just below the surface.

But you can’t just pull the plants out and cast them adrift. The rosettes bear the next generation of nuts and if they’re allowed to float away, they’ll contaminate some other dude’s waterfront downstream.

And that’s not funny. In fact, such careless action will come back to bite ya. Ducks and geese foraging in the water chestnuts you sent downstream can collect the next generation in their wings or on their feet, fly over to your place and drop em off again.

Best thing to do with the plants you pull is to burn them.

For more information, contact John DeHollander at the Oswego County Soil and Water Conservation District by calling 315-592-9663, or sending an email to information@oswegosoilandwater.com. Check out the website: http://www.oswegosoilandwater.com/.

Water Chesnuts where they belong; in a bag!

Capt. Rick Miick wearing his crown of water chesnuts.

Future Biologist, Brayden Miick, showing rosettes.

Floating rosette

Return of the Giants

2011-07-18T12:43:00.000-07:00

Carl Rathje, a fish culturist at the DEC's Oneida Lake hatchery, holding one of the facility's resident lake sturgeon.

Larry Muroski, of Larry’s Oswego Salmon Shop, reports five lake sturgeon were caught in the river behind his shop the last week of June.

“These things were huge. The one caught by Jarret Crimmins [a native of the city of Oswego] was six feet long” claims the colorful bait monger.

Fortunately, just about everyone who fishes in downtown Oswego knows the species is listed as threatened in New York State and totally protected, and all the fish were quickly released.

Up until the 19th century, lake sturgeon were plentiful in the Great Lakes. They thrived in the Oswego River drainage, including its two biggest lakes, Cayuga and Oneida.

There’s even evidence the art world’s most popular sturgeon came from our drainage, specifically, Onondaga Lake, on Syracuse’s northwestern corner. In his poem, “The Song of Hiawatha,” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow describes how the legendary warrior went “Forth to catch the sturgeon..., Mishe Nahma, King of the Fishes.” While most scholars claim the setting was Lake Superior, Iroquois legend has it Hiawatha was an Onondaga, suggesting his favorite fishing hole was the lake named after his tribe.

Poetic license aside, the fact is these native New Yorkers were around way before man; going back to the Jurassic period, in fact. They survived very nicely all the way up to the 19th century, when humans posed a greater threat to them than the meteorite that allegedly smashed into the Gulf of Mexico and wiped out the dinosaurs. You see, human activities ranging from pollution and over-fishing to building dams blocking their spawning routes pushed them to the brink of extinction.

Luckily, small populations survived in some of the state’s northern streams, most notably the St. Lawrence River. However, it’s doubtful their numbers would have rebounded without assistance from the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation.

According to Carl Rathje, a fish culturist at the Oneida Lake hatchery in Constantia, “The DEC’s goal is to restore lake sturgeon into their original range in the Great Lakes.”

In 1993, the authorities stocked 35 sturgeon into the Oswego River that were hatched out of eggs taken from fish netted in the St. Lawrence River. The Oneida Lake hatchery continued raising roughly 5,000 sturgeon annually for distribution throughout the region, including Oneida Lake.

According to Rathje, before the program could bear much fruit, Viral Hemorrhagic Septicemia (VHS), the deadly virus responsible for massive fish kills in the Great Lakes, was discovered, leading to cessation of the sturgeon rearing program at the Oneida Lake hatchery in 2004 for fear of contaminating the lake.

Still, scientists didn’t give up. Research showed eggs could be disinfected by submerging them in an iodine solution. In 2009, 2010 and 2011, eggs taken from St. Lawrence River sturgeon were treated and brought to the Oneida hatchery for rearing. “But we haven’t been able to hatch out any,” laments Rathje.

On a brighter note: “Oneida Lake is very productive and our sturgeon grow quicker than anywhere else in the state. Cornell University has already netted fish in the lake weighing up to 100 pounds.” continues Rathje.

“It’s been 16 years since Oneida Lake was first stocked with sturgeon. The females will be maturing soon [they take about 20 years], and there’s a possibility we’ll be able to get future batches of eggs from our own fish,” he adds with great enthusiasm.

In the meantime, prepare to hear a growing number of stories of sturgeon being caught in Oswego County. And as more and more sturgeon gain 100-something pounds, brace yourselves for a proliferation of stories of the one that got away.

By the way, if you catch one, Rathje advises leaving the fish in the water while removing the hook and simply letting it swim away. If you must remove it from the water, keep it out only for as long as it takes to extract the hook and release it immediately.

Lake sturgeon up close and personal.

Chains of Oneida Lake

2011-06-30T09:44:00.000-07:00

Sunfish, like this bluegill, grow huge in the weeds.

Back in the old days, northern pike were Oneida Lake’s top predator. The Erie Canal changed all that by draining away large portions of the huge swamp that hugged the south shore. Since nature abhors a vacuum, the place now boasts one of the Northeast’s greatest populations of the pike family’s smallest member: chain pickerel.

And the ones you catch are generally huge for the species. While the state’s minimum length for a keeper is 15 inches, anything smaller than 20 inches is scarce, staying hidden in the thickest weeds and densest cover it can find in order to avoid being eaten by its next of kin.

Unfortunately, pickerel suffer from a bad rap showered on them by sour grapes who curse their existence whenever one strikes a bait targeting walleyes, bass, even panfish. You see, a pickerel’s mouth and gill rakers are loaded with teeth so sharp, they’ll slice through the strongest line and swim away with your favorite lure. If you’re lucky enough to get one to the boat and land it, the challenge just begins. Feisty and slimy, it’ll thrash non-stop until exhaustion; and if your fingers are anywhere near its mouth, it’ll cut ya like a razor.

Sportsmen who admire nature’s wisdom in keeping an ecosystem healthy through diversity, admire these primitive, native American creatures for their vicious strikes, spirited fight and delicious taste.

After all, as cousin Staash likes to say, “Challenge is what we thrive on…eh?”

So when my good buddy Bob Twitchell mentioned all the pickerel he catches while fishing for walleyes in deep weeds, I started salivating.

“Hey, man, you gotta take me,” I pleaded.

A few days later we’re on the west end of the lake casting black jigs tipped with pieces of worm into weeds submerged in anywhere from 10 to 20 feet of water. Shortly, Bob gets the first fish, a lively, 20-inch walleye.

Casting out again, he gets a hit immediately. This time it's a pickerel. Netting it to prevent it from cutting off while struggling at the side of the boat, he carefully retrieves his jig, releases the fish and casts out again.

I’m fishless and growing increasingly jealous. Adding insult to injury, the curly-tail grub I’m vertically jigging keeps sticking itself in the tail. A couple frustrating minutes later, I swallow my pride and bum a bucktail. Tipping it with a worm (also bummed) I drop it over the side. In the time it takes to close the bail and reel in the slack, a two-pound bucketmouth slams it and the fight is on.

We spent the next three hours drifting over weeds loaded with pickerel, monster sunfish, rafts of large white perch averaging a pound, and another walleye.

Oneida Lake’s western half is loaded with weed beds. Watered by surviving swamps and numerous tributaries, punctuated with shoals, islands and deep rock piles, it’s the ideal habitat for all manner of bait ranging from insects and invertebrates to massive schools of minnows.

This abundance of food draws and holds a wide variety of game fish; while the weeds, boulders and shoreline structure give them cover from the sun. Add ‘em together and you come up with the exceptionally productive summer habitats this part of the lake is famous for.

Large white perch abound in Oneida Lake this year.

A typical Oneida Lake pumpkinseed.

A typical Oneida Lake bucketmouth.

Our first pickerel.

Bob holding his 20-inch walleye.

Salmon River Reservoir: Island Bass

2011-06-27T12:20:00.000-07:00

One for the Spider

Hailing from Hawaii, it’s only right that Pat Miura would be drawn to the Salmon River Reservoir (a.k.a. Redfield Reservoir): It’s loaded with islands and largemouth bass.

One of only a handful of guides who specialize in fly-fishing on Great Lakes tributaries, Pat’s notorious throughout the Northeast for his uncanny ability to catch trophy steelhead on streamers and nymphs. If there’s a chromer in the area, come winter, summer or high water, he’s gonna nail it. The guy’s blessed with unbelievable instincts for locating the beasts. It’s like he’s directly descended from them.

So I was really surprised to hear Pat loved largemouths. I called him one day in May to ask him to show me how he catches the Salmon River’s summer-run landlocked Atlantic salmon and Skamania. He mentioned he had just returned from a Florida vacation in which he caught numerous bucketmouths, including an eight-pounder.

So I bit.

“You ever fish for bass in Redfield?,” I asked.

“All the time, he replied. Why, you wanna try it?”

I couldn’t believe my ears: “Yup!”

So we went several days ago. Launching at the Jackson Road Public Access site (9.5 miles east of Pulaski, off Cty. Rte. 2), we headed southeast.

Islands began popping out of the water like we were in the St. Lawrence River. I mean, depending on the water level there are, maybe, 20 to 30 of them, a lot for an impoundment that’s only about six miles long. What’s more, none has any buildings. In fact, there’s no development at all along at least 90% of the waterfront, maybe more. The feeling’s about as close to “Adirondacky” as you can get without leaving Oswego County.

Next thing I know, the boat’s stopped and Pat’s casting a Rapala Husky Jerk. In a blink, he’s fighting a 13-inch smallmouth. Not big by any standard, but it fought like it was aiming at becoming a local legend.

I grabbed my pole. Before I can tie on a jerkbait, he’s landing another one. By the time I finally managed to cast out, he was landing his third cookie-cutter smallmouth.

And that kind’a surprised me; according to the experts, bucketmouths are supposed to rule Redfield Reservoir. But smallmouths made it into the system several years back, found the habitat good, and are holding their own.

Still, we came for largemouths. And Pat produced, in spades.

“Redfield Rez is tough,” claims Pat. “It’s never the same. It’s different from one day to the next. The main reason is that water is drawn out for power generation, causing the water level to change constantly.

“Fish structure: depth changes, stumps, rock piles, and any other cover you can find,” he advises. “The most important thing to look for if you want largemouths is weeds.”

When he found some, we started nailing bucketmouths. We caught and released about 20 (he accounted for at least 18), mostly on jig and pigs and Flukes, but YUM Dingers produced for me.

Knowing the reservoir has some nice walleyes, I baited one of my spinning outfits with a Berkley Power Grub and worked it on bottom whenever we came to a drop-off. I didn’t get any “eyes” but I landed a bunch of rock bass, some weighing close to a pound.

Salmon River Reservoir has loads of public access. Cty. Rte. 2 offers bank fishing at Little America, on C.C.C. Drive, about a mile east of the access site mentioned above--launching a boat, even a car-topper is difficult because of the spot’s steep terrain. Brookfield Power Company runs a day use area complete with launch site, bank fishing and picnic facilities on the north end of Dam Road. The hamlet of Redfield boasts a boat launch and handicapped access shore fishing off Cty. Rte. 17, and there’s a cartop boat launch and shoreline access on Cty. Rte. 17, just south of the bridge.

While Pat Miura specializes in fly-fishing, he's also available for bass and pike trips. Contact him at 315-777-3570.

Some Redfield islands

Pat with our first bucketmouth of the day.

More islands

Pat gets another

American territory

Casting a Fluke into Redfield Reservoir's shoreline structure.

Old Growth Point

2011-06-14T12:26:00.000-07:00

Approaching the Lake

While the exact acreage of the East Coast’s old growth (trees at least 150 years old) isn’t known--indeed, new stands are being discovered all the time--it’s estimated that ancient woods comprise roughly 1% of the forests this side of the Mississippi. New York boasts more than half of that, primarily in the Adirondack and Catskill Mountains and Alleghany State Park.

Closer to home, you’d expect to find some virgin woods in the northeastern quarter of Oswego County, in undeveloped spots like Littlejohn and Happy Valley Wildlife Management Areas or Winona State Forest. However, ranked in the top five of the state’s largest lands, they sprawl over 8,000 acres each, and finding their stands of old growth poses a formidable challenge to today’s average, time-strapped hiker.

The good news is that the southeastern corner of Oswego County is graced with Three Mile Bay/Big Bay WMA, another massive spread that offers some really old trees. Best of all, they’re at the shoulder of McCloud Drive, an unpaved logging trail that leads from Toad Harbor Road to scenic Phillips Point

No tree core samples have been taken, so Mike Putnam, the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation Wildlife Biologist in charge of the WMA, can’t say for sure whether they’re old enough to qualify as genuine old growth or not. Still, he’s confident the trees range from 100 to 150 years old.

He thinks the trees were never harvested by the land’s original owners.

His boss, DEC Supervising Forester Richard Pancoe, believes the trees are just shy of old age, but have reached their magnificent stature because of “site quality: good ground, deep soil and sufficient moisture.”

Whatever the case may be, McCloud Drive is an avenue through a natural treasure. Beyond the yellow barrier (designed to discourage the wild, late-night parties that used to disturbed Phillips Point’s tranquility) at the entrance to the WMA exists a spot that contemporary life forgot. Stately oaks, rough shag bark hickories and massive maples, their crowns towering 60, even 70 feet in the air, line the road like columns to an open air temple.

Off to the west side of the road, Oneida Lake gently laps the wooded shoreline. On the east, the forest reaches inland as far as the eye can see.

As you near the end of the road, the land around it rapidly narrows, forcing it to turn sharply to the east and make a loop. But the spit continues forward, growing narrower and narrower until finally disappearing into the lake.

The distance from barrier to point is less than half a mile, but the scenery is so mesmerizing it feels like a couple blocks. It’s a great place to escape the arrogance and apathy spawned by the asphalt and plastic of contemporary life and immerse yourself in a stress-free primordial setting of towering giants springing from beds of quivering flowers.

To get there from I-81, get off at the Central Square exit, head east on NY 49 for about 3 miles, turn right on Toad Harbor Road, then left, three miles later onto McCloud Drive and travel a few hundred yards to the barrier.

Old growth shag bark hickory

Phillips Point

Old growth oaks

Take a Kid Fishing

2011-06-06T07:45:00.000-07:00

Erin Campbell and daughter Renee admire the youngsters first golden shiner.

Normally, the month of May is the most productive time to fish from shore. Water temperatures are heating up, spurring everything in the drink to move. Trout and pike are feeding voraciously while bass and panfish cruise the shallows looking for spawning sites.

This year, on the other hand, is anything but normal. Here it is the end of May and this is being written to the beat of my sump pump still struggling to keep the basement dry. As recently as last weekend, lawns in the neighborhood were still spotted with pools of standing water. Oneida Lake has only recently gone down enough to reveal the boulders and rocky points that punctuate its shoreline, and the low lying islands that shorebirds of every feather use for rookeries.

What it all boils down to is this year’s spring panfish bite has been extended a couple weeks. For sure, good numbers of the tasty critters were taken in small lakes and streams a couple weeks ago; but the big waters like Lakes Ontario and Oneida, and the Oswego and Oneida Rivers, were so high for so long that they were all but inaccessible to average anglers.

The good news is that all the sunnies, bullheads, rock bass, and stuff that were out of range earlier are accessible now--and they’re a little bigger. What’s more, they’re joined near shore by great quantities of sheepshead, catfish and carp.

It promises to be the hottest late spring fishing in memory; a great time to teach a kid to do it. You see, children take to fishing like minnows to water…if the fish are hitting, that is.

Best of all, you don’t even have to be a great angler to score right now. Fish are hanging out in shallow spots along the edges of open water, and locating hot spots is easy. Just drive along a road that skirts a river or lake and check out all the bridges, culverts, tributary mouths and swamps you come to. Anywhere you find campfire circles and Y-shaped branches (Cousin Staash calls ‘em nature’s rod holders) sticking out of the ground, will likely have fish within casting distance waiting for a juicy bait.

If you prefer the relative comfort, convenience and safety of fishing canal structure in a village or city, try fishing below barriers like locks. Fish often stage below the massive doors while trying to figure out how to get upstream.

If you like the wild side, try the fast water in places like Caughdenoy, Phoenix, Fulton, Minetto or Oswego. Cast your bait into any spot where the water slows down a bit. For instance, along the edges of structures like old mills and concrete walls, in the pockets below boulders and bridge abutments, even the edges of rapids.

River bottoms are loaded with all kinds of debris, everything from sunken logs and discarded road materials to abandoned autos, tires, refrigerators, bath tubs and sunken barges. A good way to avoid losing the battle of the snags is to avoid them altogether, by fishing with a bobber. Set it so it keeps the bait an inch or two above the bottom.

Worms and small minnows are baits of choice for most anglers. However, a small tube jig like a Berkley PowerBait Atomic Teasers, tipped with a Berkley Powerbait Power Wiggler is equally deadly. In fact, if you or your student would rather not bother with messy live bait, you’ll find an Atomic Teaser dangled below a tiny bobber, and worked by being retrieved slowly, and jerked everycouple of feet, will fill your dreams like any squiggly, slimy bait.

Lastly, make the trip a safe one by making the child wear a personal flotation device. The water below a lock wall is generally at least 12 feet deep, and a PFD comes in handy if the kid can't tread water too well. If you're fishing a natural river bank, keep them out of the water, especially if there’s rapids, even if it looks shallow. Streams are notorious for having holes where you least expect them and the drop can be steep and deep.

Conditions like this year’s only come together every couple of decades, and June 2011 promises to go down as the most productive late spring bite of the century. So grab a kid and take ‘em fishin’: you’ll be passing on one of life’s most pleasant pastimes and achieve immortality by etching yourself into the kid’s fondest memories.

Elevin -year-old Renee Campbell has her first close encounter with a snapping turtle.

City of Oswego residents Liane Benedict and son Jack with a rock bass the youngster caught in the Oswego River.

Gobbler Numbers on the Rise

2011-05-24T12:05:00.000-07:00

Stan Oulette of Deer Creek Outfitters with toms he led his clients to.

First the bad news: In its report, “Spring Turkey Take by County,” the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation estimates that last year’s statewide turkey harvest was roughly 25,800 birds, well below the 10 year average of 34,000.

Now the good news: although the state’s overall harvest was down 25 percent from the year before, Oswego is one of only five counties to boast a higher take in 2010 than in 2009. And from the looks of it, the trend is stretching into this year.

Now, a cynic might say these figures result from more hunters in Oswego County, or that the county somehow managed to avoid the harsh winter weather that did a number on the fowl’s population in the rest of the state.

Say what???!!!

I’m here to tell ya that Oswego County has about the same amount of hunters per capita as the rest of the state, and gets more than its fair share of snow. In fact, a big portion of the county, including some primo turkey range, is in the area known for “lake effect,” a measure meteorologists from around the country use to judge a region’s snowiness.

Truth is Oswego County is exceptionally good to turkeys. Lance Clark, a Senior Wildlife Biologist with the NYSDEC claims “Oswego County ’s turkey population has been building for the past couple of years.”

Most surprising of all, the growing number isn’t exclusive to the southern part of the county, where most of the farms are found. Indeed, a lot of the birds were taken in the Littlejohn, Deer Creek Marsh, and Happy Valley Wildlife Management Areas, vast tracts of undeveloped land.

You see, while turkeys do well in agricultural areas, they can do just as good in deep woods. All they need is mast bearing hardwoods--oak, beechnut, hickory, stuff like that--and openings that provide seeds, insects, and fruits like berries and apples.

Since WMAs are run to enhance wildlife habitat, DEC conducts patch/clear-cutting in heavily forested areas regularly to increase early successional habitats; the dense cover required by broods and the insects they feed on. Happy Valley WMA is the DEC’s most recent recipient of this management tool.

Marshy areas are also great turkey habitat. Two of the state’s finest are Oswego County’s Deer Creek Marsh and Three Mile Bay/Big Bay WMAs. In fact, anglers fishing for crappie and panfish in Toad Harbor this time of year are always scattering turkeys while walking to fishing spots.

And don’t go thinking the last half of the season is the least productive. Most hunters only go out the first week. After about a few days of being relatively unmolested, most toms go back to doing what they like best: talking to the ladies.

So head out to one of the WMAs mentioned above, set up a hen decoy and start talking turkey. With a little bit of luck and a lot of patience, you’ll be eating wild fowl in no time.

A happy Deer Creek Motel client showing off his bird.

Flatlining Browns

2011-05-05T06:14:00.000-07:00

Capt. Miick fighting a brown

Water temperatures along Oswego County’s Lake Ontario shoreline are heating up. Late last week, they ranged from 46 to 52 degrees in eight to 14 feet of water. The brown trout came in, and boy, were they hungry.

“Spider, the browns started their spring thing in shallow water,” claimed Captain Rick Miick (www.trophydreamcatcher.com; 315-387-5920) on Monday of last week. “The weather calls for rain tomorrow. If it comes down hard enough, that should warm things up to around 50, putting the browns on a hot bite.”

“I’m heading out Wednesday morning. You can tag along, if you’d like,” he invited.

Launching at Pine Grove (head south from the NY 3/ NY 13 intersection for about a half mile, turn right and continue for a few hundred yards to the launch), we motored out of the Salmon River and turned south.

Rick set out planer boards and ran Smithwick Rogues on the outside lines, Michigan Stingers on the inside.

Run-off from the previous evening’s rain turned the lake into a study in brown: the inshore waters were murky, streaked by tributary plumes that were almost chocolate. In fact the water was so muddy in the morning, I tried talking the captain into fishing a little deeper, say 12 to 15 feet.

“Nah, they’re in close. They’ll find the lures,” he retorted, confidently.

It took a little while but he proved right. A four-pound brown nailed one of the Smithwicks as we ran through Grindstone Creek’s dense, brown plume.

Excited--and rusty after winter’s absence from open water--I kept the rod high as the fish neared the boat. Bad move: it shook its head and the hook came flying at me.

After gently lecturing me in the value of keeping the rod tip down when the fish comes into the motor’s turbulence, and slowly backing up to lead the fish into the net, Captain Miick good-naturedly re-set the line and we were back in business.

A few hundred yards later, another rod tripped. This time everything went smoothly and we landed a four-pounder.

The action stayed pretty fast for the next hour or so. We landed four cookie-cutter browns, all about four pounds, and lost another; not because of something we did wrong, but because the fish hit the spoon when the line was stopped as we made a turn and no one was expecting it. There we were, joking around and the drag starts screaming. By the time Miick reached it, the rod went flat. We know it was a brown because it jumped, flipping us a fin in derision as it got away.

The browns will stay close to shore, in anywhere from six to 12 feet of water as long as temperatures remain below 56. After that they’ll slowly follow their preferred temperature deeper and deeper as the weeks drag into summer.

For a complete list of Oswego County charter captains go to http://visitoswegocounty.com/fishing-hunting/fishing/charters-guides/.

Casting for browns from the pier at Selkirk Shores State Park

Capt. Miick holding our first cookie cutter brown of the day

Capt. Miick setting the lines

Drop-back Steelies and Other Surprises

2011-04-20T07:07:00.001-07:00

Syracusan Frank Squadrido holding a nice brown trout he took in the village of Pulaski by centerpinning a trout bead below a float.

Winter finally started loosening her grip on Oswego County in late March. Up until then, her reluctance to grant us even a short thaw kept the Salmon and Oswego Rivers at steady levels all season long. When spring finally showed, it remained stubbornly cold, giving only a couple hours of temperatures that rose slightly above freezing, and only on the best of days. It was so frigid for so long, average anglers stayed home.

Fortunately, the dawning of the official trout opener saw nature relent and let some warm air sweep in. Anglers who made it out onto the Salmon River found the temperature in the high 40s, and the water level at around 1,000 cfs (cubic feet per second), perfect for wading or drifting.

And the steelies were all over the place, not just in the river’s upper reaches. Fresh ones were coming in; others were spawning; and drop-backs were milling around at the edges of fast current and at the tails of pools, taking their time drifting back to Lake O, pigging out on every bite-sized morsel they could get.

By all accounts, this year’s steelhead numbers are better than ever and just about anyone who knows his elbow from the butt section of a fishing rod has a good chance at hooking one.

A lot of browns are mixed in. What they’re doing in the river this time of year is anyone’s guess. Some claim they’re river browns, but their size, light color and great number indicates they’re freshly run.

But that was before the mother of thaws. It seems once she sprung, spring couldn’t control herself and overheated, dropping some extremely unseasonably hot days. On one, the mercury shot to just under 80 degrees.

Well, you can’t do that around the Tug Hill this time of year without a reaction. Its world famous snowpack couldn’t take it and melted…fast and furiously.

At this writing on April 14, the river is testing 3,000 cfs. That’s high by any standard. Still, what goes up must come down. It’ll drop, and when it does, it’s gonna catch a lot of big drop-backs in low water. Confident over the easy pickings in the food rich rapids while the water was high, they’ll be hungry and relatively easily available. Combined with this year's large number of fish, the situation promises some of the best fast water action the Salmon River has ever seen.

The window will be open the widest from the end of April through the middle of May; right about the time when the Skamania and landlocked Atlantic salmon begin their runs.

But say the worst happens and you don’t catch the steelie swimming through your dreams. Don’t be too hard on yourself: these fish didn’t get big by being stupid.

Just hooking one is the beginning of a life altering achievement; because now you gotta land it. And if you do, well, then you’ve earned the right to sit back and glow.

But not for too long. Getting hooked in the imagination by a steelie is addicting, and you’ll be casting for another before you know it.

A 30-inch, drop-back hen steelie Spider caught by centerpinning a pink (bubblegum) Berkley PowerBait Trout Worm below a float.

Crappie Fishing Getting Good

2011-04-14T06:15:00.000-07:00

Crappie: early season delight

Last winter’s unusual severity--long stretches of bitter cold weather without any thaws to speak of--along with heavier than normal snowfall -- has set the early season bite back a bit. Fortunately, the beginning of the month saw things warm up enough to lure folks to their favorite panfish spots; and early indications are that the bite’s gonna be a good one.

Last week saw Toad Harbor load up with minnows and panfish. Guys fishing with mousies and spikes nailed a lot of sunnies and shiners. Those working flathead or bucktail minnows did pretty well on the crappies.

Still, the crappie fishing was spotty. Schools would swarm in, bite for an hour or so and then turn off. A few hours later, they’d come back, folks would catch a few and then the critters would shut down again.

One local crappie expert surmised: “The water’s a tad too cold for them yet. Sometime next week they’ll come round in good numbers.”

Curiously, there seemed to be a larger than normal population of intellectually challenged anglers on the banks that day. They were easy to identify because of their habit of throwing the shiners into the bushes. One guy I watched throw four to their deaths finally complained: “I hate these worthless things.”

That’s when I let him have it. “Well buddy, what do you expect?” I asked. “You come to their house, throw dinner at them and get mad when they hit. If you don’t like catching shiners don’t use the baits they feed on.”

“There’s too many of ‘em; by killing them I’m helping to control their numbers” he shot back.

“Let the fish do that,” I replied.

A dumbfounded expression crept over his face.

Figuring he was probably a pretty decent guy deep down who just wasn’t savvy to the mysterious workings of nature, I decided to let him in on it: “Shiners are forage. All kinds of fish depend on them for food, including crappies, perch, sunnies. If you go killing them before they can spawn, you’re reducing their numbers all right. And then what do you expect the bigger fish to do?” I asked, rhetorically; then answered myself. “they’re gonna feed on more sunnies, perch and crappies, which means there’ll be less for you and me. You see?”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded. “But they’re still a pain in the ….”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen days where they were all I caught. Without them, I’da been skunked,” I argued.

He smiled in agreement (told ya he was a nice guy).

Fate seemed to smile, too, because after that all I saw him catch were sunnies…and that made him very happy.

Toad Harbor should be productive from now all the way through mid-May. Crappies will be the main event for the next couple of weeks, followed by bullheads and sunfish, and pickerel when pike season opens.

If you don’t mind a little current, the floodgates at Caughedenoy can be productive. Perch mill around the structures and can be pretty cooperative if you’re there at the right time. What’s more they’re bigger than in years past.

They hang out in the slow areas and edges of the current, and respond best to a jighead tipped with a minnow and fished below a bobber so the offering moves around, an inch or two off bottom.

Feedback: Meg, a reader form Liverpool, NY, sent an email reporting that she and her 11-year-old son caught 11 perch in Phoenix over the weekend, five in the first 20 minutes.

Mexico native John Whitney and a perch he took at Caughedenoy.

Wayne Wright holding part of his family's dinner he took at Toad Harbor.

Way to happiness: Toad Harbor, a bucket and a crappie.

Catch-and-Release Cookbook

2011-04-06T10:45:00.000-07:00

Fran Verdoliva, NYSDEC's Salmon River Coordinator, shows the proper way to hold a fish you intend to release.

Sooner or later, for reasons ranging from fishing strictly for the fun of it to catching undersized crappies or out-of-season bass, there will come a time when you’ll want to release your catch. And while your actions might seem noble on the surface, they’ll amount to releasing dead fish swimming if you’re not careful.

One of the worst things you can do to a fish is to catch it on tackle that’s too light for its size. Battling trophy steelhead with four-pound tippets and keeper muskies with eight-pound test exhausts the quarry, often to the point where it can’t recover. Horsing it in on a strong line actually preserves its strength.

This is especially true in fast, shallow water like the Salmon River. Steelies, browns and salmon earned the status of game fish because of their brute strength and stamina. Streams are littered with boulders, logs and debris, and the longer the fish fight, the greater their risk of being injured by running into something or landing on it after leaping.

Worst still is if you hook one in mild weather. Salmonids are coldwater species with a low tolerance for high temperatures. Each June through August, the Salmon River carries away countless landlocked Atlantic salmon and Skamania cadavers that never recovered from “sporting” contests with man.

The heaviest losses come when anglers photograph their trophies. Incredibly, after the fish has just fought for its life and needs to catch its breath, it’s removed from the water, admired, photographed, tickled, kissed, whatever. It’s the equivalent of you running the marathon, and right when you cross the finish line having someone dunk your head underwater for a few minutes.

Given a chance to catch its breath, a fish generally calms down. It’ll squirm around a bit but eventually stops. If you have to have a hero shot, wet your hands, lift it gently and quickly, take your photo and put it back in the water. Better still take a shot of it in the water with you kneeling next to it.

Always wet your hands before touching fish, particularly members of the pike and salmonid families, species plated in soft, small scales. Their slime is like a second skin, protecting them from parasites and bacteria. A dry hand removes it, leaving the bare spot vulnerable to life threatening infections.

Never lift a northern pike by the eye sockets. All game fish are sight feeders--that’s why they hit lures and flies. Poking one in the eyes, then lifting it can damage its vision. Blinding one amounts to a death sentence.

Avoid holding a bass by jamming your thumb and index fingers into its mouth and lifting it by the lower jaw so it suspends horizontally. While that pose might look great in magazines and on-line, it can injure, even break the bass’s jaw--and that can’t be good.

Be gentle when you’re removing a hook. Don’t just rip it out; wiggle it around to work it out. If it’s deep, cut the leader and leave it in the fish. If it’s in the throat, the fish can sometimes work it out or it’ll rust away with time. If it’s in the gut, the fish’s stomach acids will eventually dissolve it.

Never hold a large fish in a vertical position. Made to swim, its internal organs are designed to sit horizontally. When you lift it vertically, it has no muscles to support its innards and they can break away from their proper positions.

Cold, slimy and generally silent (bullheads and sheepshead can make sounds) fish are often treated like inanimate objects. But they are alive and all life is delicate. By exercising a little care and gentleness in the handling of those we plan on releasing, we not only mitigate the pain and terror of being yanked out of their habitat, we increase their chances to thrive and fight another day--maybe even spawn.

Skinny Creeks Fattened Up

2011-03-28T08:03:00.000-07:00

The Scotts with Jr.'s first steelie taken with a centerpin.

Last winter Oswego County lived up to its reputation as one of the snowiest places in the country. Indeed, even after the recent thaws, you can still find several feet of snow in remote spots on the Tug Hill Plateau.

Fortunately, most of the white stuff has liquefied and poured down the face of the hill, fattening up the skinny creeks, swelling them to ideal steelhead spawning habitat.

And the fish are stormin' in from Lake “O” in unbelievable numbers. Scott VanDerWater, a Baldwinsville native who spends more time up here this time of year than he does at home, has been nailing massive quantities in Trout and Orwell Brooks , tributaries to the Salmon River, for over a week.

“Trout Brook was loaded with ‘em in the beginning of last week,” adds VanDerWater. “Then the thaw late in the week tripled the volume of water, making it all but impossible to fish. This week the water’s down to optimum levels again and the fish are everywhere.

“The fishin’s been so good, I took my seven-year-old, Scotty, and he nailed one, his first on a centerpin,” boasts the proud elder.

South Sandy and Grindstone Creeks are also enjoying good runs of chrome. A couple days ago, there was still an impassible snow drift across the Selkirk State Park Road leading to the mouth of Grindstone, but it should be melted by the end of this week.

Most fish are being taken by guys float-fishing with all the usual suspects: egg sacs, Berkley Trout Worms, and beads (try local Great Lakes Steelhead Co’s).

This is the greatest skinnywater steelhead bite of the year but it won’t last long, probably another week, maybe 10 days. Then the cricks’ll drop to normal, driving the fish out; and flow after heavy rains, bringing in one or two until about mid-April.

If the creeks are down when you get here, don’t despair. The Salmon River is swarming with so many steelies, in spots its floor looks like it's chrome plated. It'll remain that way until the middle of May.

Scott Sr. with one of his own

Male in March colors

Mission for Fishin’

2011-03-14T12:01:00.000-07:00

Casting contest by Mike Riordan

Mike Riordan is on a mission.

“It is my desire to give back to the community,” says the Central Square resident.

And he’s doing it in the fishiest way imaginable.

In his personal response to the old saw: Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime, he started the Calvary Baptist Church Fishing Seminar five years ago, a program designed to teach youngsters all they need to know to go fishing and actually catch something.

The inspiration for Riordan’s goal came from a typical source: memories of fishing with his dad. After the elder Riordan died, Mike passed on the legacy to his own teenage son. But that only scratched the surface of his deep need to bless others with the gift his father left him.

His quest for fulfillment led him to takemefishing.org where he took its “Anglers Legacy” pledge, agreeing to teach others how to fish.

One thing led to another and before you know it, Mike’s church got in on it and the program has blossomed. Now in its fifth year, the CBC Fishing Seminar has grown from a series of beginners classes to a program offering something for every level of fishing experience.

For instance, this year’s event, to be held on March 26, 9 a.m.-4 p.m., will have classes on everything from the little things like casting a fishing pole, arranging terminal tackle, tying knots and bait selection to specialized techniques like fly-fishing, casting for bass, and trolling and jigging for walleyes. One section will even demonstrate how to fillet your catch.

The New York State Department of Environmental Conservation and Carpenter’s Brook Fish Hatchery will provide live fish for the touch-and-feel and fish identification portions of the seminar.

To ensure you don’t forget what’s been discussed, everyone will be given a book containing all the information—and then some—covered during the day.

Riordan promises an hour break mid-day in which pizza will be served.

Every kid in attendance will get tackle packs, including one from Oswego County Tourism containing Berkley Trilene XL line, Berkley PowerBait Wigglers and PowerBait Atomic Teasers. Door prizes and freebies will be handed out throughout the day. And several raffles will be held.

Best of all, it's all FREE.

For more information and to register go to http://www.cbcbrewerton.org/; or call 315-668-7150.

Calvary Baptist Church is located on the corner of US Rt. 11 and Mudmill Road on the south side of Brewerton.

The following photos are courtesy of Mike Riordan and the Central Square Calvary Baptist Church:

Fish lesson

Live Walleye

Casting lessons

Playing fish

Touchy-feely session

Cruisin’ through the Snow

2011-02-24T06:22:00.000-08:00

Riverscape

If you think that winter in Oswego County only draws sports looking to fish the Salmon and Oswego Rivers--the two most productive coldwater streams in the Lower 48--and Oneida Lake--the world’s most famous walleye spot--you’re sorely mistaken.

Framing the southeastern corner of Lake Ontario, we’re nestled in that snow-lovers’ nirvana some call lake effect country, an area known for getting over 200 inches of snow annually—and that’s in years of mild temperatures.

I’m here to tell ya, however, this year has been exceptional. We’ve been slammed with so much powder this season, it looks like winter 2010 is headed for the record books. If you don’t believe me, just drive down one of our highways and you’ll think you’re on a toboggan run.

Well, snow that’s deep enough to send average Americans into a state of deep anxiety spurs average Oswego residents into pulling their winter toys out of warm storage and dusting ‘em off for action. Whatever their cold weather inclination, from cross-country skiing and snowshoeing to dog-sledding and snowmobiling, you can bet your pocket warmers they’ll be out in the county’s big backyard dashing through the snow.

All because these rugged individuals refuse to let a little thing like Arctic conditions bog them down. To the majority, the white stuff is a blessing, opening a whole new world of natural beauty to anyone willing to just go out and take a peek.

Around here, that’s easy; primarily because of the efforts of the Oswego County Snowmobile Association. This group builds, signs and grooms the fabulous 360-mile web of trails running through the place, reaching into every nook and cranny of the Tug Hill Plateau (birthplace of the term “lake effect”), the Adirondack Mountain Park, and every other point on the compass.

But there’s more: a secondary network of trails strikes off through the winter landscape, reaching into some of most peaceful and beautiful scenery imaginable.

What’s more, “all snowmobile trails lead to Oswego County,” boasts cousin Staash, a guy who’s been sledding since the early days when the machines were so skinny they’d tip over on you when you stopped. “If you can’t reach your favorite destination from here…and I’m talking any spot in the whole country known for snow…it doesn’t exist,” he continues.

In fact, Oswego County’s contribution to snowmobiling in New York’s great white north is so important, we’ll be one of four counties (Lewis, Oneida, and Herkimer, too) to be featured in a snowmobiling series, Snow Country (w.t), scheduled to air next year by WPBS-DT, the Public Broadcasting station in Watertown. In addition, we’ll appear in two episodes of the national series Snow Trails TV, a snowmobile reality television and web series airing on 30 PBS stations across the United States and Canada.

But don’t go waiting for the shows to see what Oswego County’s above average snowfall has to offer. Instead, grab an Official Trail Map of the Oswego County Snowmobile Association (www.oswcsa.com or call 315-599-7762) and head out on an adventure of your own.

For more information about Snow Trails TV, visitwww.snowtrailstv.com. Season 8 is airing on WPBS-DT Saturday mornings at 8:30am and Thursday evenings at 7:30pm.

For current trail conditions, fishing conditions and visitor information in Oswego County, go to www.visitoswegocounty.com.

Lots of parking

Snowmobile in flight

Trail to the sun

Snowy Scenes Around Oneida Lake

2011-01-28T08:08:00.000-08:00

Aging cannon/POW-MIA Memorial along the north shore of Oneida Lake

Fishing and hunting in Oswego County lead to countless hours of memorable moments. And while pulling in a walleye, aiming at a big tom, or leading a mallard are thrilling, not every second spent outside is steeped in heart pounding excitement. There’s a lot of quiet time, too, when the natural beauty of the woods and waters, combined with man’s artistic contributions, soak into your soul and wash away the skid marks left there by the rat race.

Cousin Staash (rhymes with gosh) calls outdoor recreation a “total experience.”

He explains: “You enjoy it when you’re getting ready, while you’re doing it and when you dream about it afterwards.”

“Then there’s the in-between time,” he continues. “A lot of people forget that when you’re heading out and coming home, for instance, you’re forced to take a drive in the country. And how about between hits, when everywhere you look, your senses get pleasantly whacked by the wonder going on around you.”

“Man,” Staash elaborates, an expression of disbelief climbing his face, “I’ve known ice-fishermen who were so overwhelmed by how beautiful winter is in this neck of the woods, they become distracted to the point they miss their turn and instead of turning around, end up circlin’ the lake, like they’re hypnotized by its arctic beauty, or somethin’.”

Right now is the best time (literally) to see what Staash means. And you don’t even have to step out of the car.

For an example of the natural and man-made wonders in store along Oneida Lake’s north shore, check out the photo essay below. The shots were all taken on January 23, on or just off NY 49, between the villages of Cleveland and Brewerton.

The Beast from the East

Yellow Submarine

Apps Landing. Cleveland.

Bronze Horse

Fence

Iron Monster

Multiple Use

River Castle

Signs at the crossroad

Tracks

Waiting for Sunset

Spey Casting Magician

2011-01-24T07:15:00.000-08:00

Every body of water has its living fishing legends. One of the Salmon River’s most famous is Pat Miura.

With good reason: Pat’s specialty is fly-fishing. And while this world famous coldwater fishery is loaded with guides who are experts at beating the wind with long rods, and bringing home trophies for their clients, most switch techniques—center-pinning beads, for instance, or back trolling plugs--in an attempt to optimize their client’s chances at catching vast quantities of game.

Pat changes techniques, too, when it’s called for, but he stays true to fly-fishing, switching from glow bugs to nymphs, for instance, traditional streamers to Spey flies. And he’s mastered them all.

What’s more, he doesn’t make glowing promises of numerous hook ups to fill his schedule. Indeed, he doesn’t make any fishy promises at all. His only guarantee is to take you on a quality fly-fishing adventure; and he’s so good at providing dream trips that his name is a legend on the river; the retired US Army master sergeant stays as busy as he wants.

I’ve known Pat for several years and enjoy watching him whenever I get the chance. His style is flawless, and he’s always catching fish. I had to find out how he does it and asked if I could tag along when he gets a break in his schedule.

Next thing you know we’re on the Salmon River and he’s trying to teach me to Spey cast. Developed in the Spey River region of Scotland, this highly stylized technique uses rods anywhere from 12-something to over 13 feet long and heavy lines to cast large flies great distances, using three simple moves. In fact, a good caster can easily whip a fly 50 feet with trees, bushes, cliffs, fjords, you name it, right behind ‘em.

It took about an hour to show me the ropes. I learned how to establish an anchor (at the end of the drift, hold the rod in both hands and cross your arms, forcing the line high into the air upstream while keeping the fly in the water downstream, a rod’s distance from you), the importance of the D loop (swinging the rod in front of you, then behind you, it forms a D loop off to your side), and the forward motion (keeping the rod tip high, you whip it forward, launching the fly to its target). Done properly, the fly slices through the air upstream, back into the loop next to you, and forward, never coming close to what’s behind you.

It takes a little practice to get everything flowing in a rhythmic motion. In fact, I’ve been out twice, about three hours each time, and still haven’t mastered it. But I can cast greater distances under the tightest conditions than I ever imagined possible. What’s more, I can do it with the line staying straight, (mostly, anyway) instead of tangling mid-air into a rooster nest and dropping like a coiled, stone serpent.

After theory, Pat showed me how it works. Waving his Spey rod fluidly and rhythmically, he went through the motions like a conductor leading a symphony. The line responded flawlessly, flowing silently through air and water, landing in front of him, about 40 feet away, with hardly a ripple.

Watching him perform his magic, I ended up forgetting my lessons. Things got ugly quick. I snagged bottom a few times; wrapped the line around the rod tip twice, hooked some submerged branches downstream, ended up under a huge boulder…

Just then something tells me to look up. I watch Pat effortlessly make another perfect cast. Holding the rod in his right hand, parallel to the water, he pinched the line between his index finger and thumb. Suddenly, the line stretches, ripping through the water, a steelhead on the surface at the other end.

Pat doesn’t set the hook; his fingers hold the line tight, allowing the fish to hook itself. Afterwards he releases the tension, raises the rod and the fight is on.

A few minutes later, he lands a nice eight-pound steelie.

“Spider,” he says, eyes beaming, “the drug is in the tug,” and laughs confidently like a master after demonstrating his stuff, and knowing he performed well.

I was so excited I forgot my manners and ran right to where he hooked it.

Ten minutes later, still no hits, I get snagged and lose the fly.

He offers to tie on another for me but it was getting late, and I was getting cold, and I already had my story.

Besides, I knew I was hooked to Spey casting and would get back out there soon to craft more memories.

Pat can be contacted at 315-788-9571, 315-777-3570, or pmiura@aol.com.

Pat working his Spey casting magic on a snowy riverscape.

Miura holding a stylized wooly bugger pattern he uses very successfully in snowtime.

Getting to the river in Pineville can be very challenging this time of year; but often well worth it.

Jacks in the Ice

2011-01-07T12:27:00.000-08:00

Eric Arbogast with some nice Oneida Lake walleyes.

Climate change is a funny thing. The experts claim the world is warming. Oneida Lake formed safe ice a week before Christmas – two weeks earlier than normal – indicating things are cooling down. It’s enough to make you question the weather forecasting business.

One thing’s for certain, however. Today, January 5, Oneida Lake is crowned in an ice cap that’s six inches thick.

Ice fishermen and snowmobilers are all over the place. Some spots are so crowded with ice shelters they look like ice-fishing villages. And the fish are cooperating.

Also known around these parts as jack perch, they’re huge; averaging a solid 10 inches.
A lot are even bigger, up to 13 inches. They’re hanging out in about 20 feet of water and they’re taking Swedish pimples tipped with buckeyes.

Rick Sorenson of Apps Landing Bait Shop claims guys are coming back regularly with 20 to 30 perch. And he should know, located right at the entrance to the DEC’s popular Cleveland Dock fishing access site (parking for 15 cars and close proximity to the magical 20-foot depths), and offering a complete selection of ice-fishing bait and tackle, he’s got anglers coming and going constantly, giving him play-by-play reports on all the action.

On the hard water, anglers are proving how accurate Sorenson is. One pair of guys on the ice out in front of the shop had so many; from a distance it looked like they were sitting on ice carpeted in perch.

Bob Twichell of Fayetteville had about 15 on the ice, five of ‘em 13-inchers. He was using an old technique: drawing fish to his bait with a decoy. He’d bait a line with a perch eye, let it down to the bottom, crank it up a couple of inches and rest the rod on the edge of the ice. Then he’d call fish in by violently jigging a Sonar in a hole a couple feet away.

Bob Twitchell landing another perch.

His buddy Kyle Storie, scored much better using contemporary tactics. He had a fish finder in his hole, and jigged a dot tipped with a buckeye.

Kyle Storie and his carpet of jack perch.

Twichell says, “Walleyes come through all the time. But they don’t hit well until 4 or 5 p.m., when it starts getting dark.”

An old wives’ tale says early ice is the best for ice-fishing; probably because the fish haven’t had their senses overwhelmed with motorized augers, snowmobiles, cleats, you name it.

So get out there, walk quietly and pack a lot of bait. The fish you catch will make your shivering worthwhile.

Andrew Allerton with a nice catch he took on a Swedish Pimple tipped with a buckeye.

The Oswego River: Down... for Now

2010-12-28T07:41:00.000-08:00

A friend helps Richard Hyde Jr. land his steelie as another friend looks on.

The Oswego River is finally down to size. Two factors – the sky clamming up and the Artic temperatures sweeping over the Northeast around Christmas – slowed the run-off pouring over the 5,000-something square miles of countryside that the stream drains.

Come Christmas, I was itching to wet a line in the rapids running through the Port City. I called a couple buddies and asked what they thought about the possibilities. They were enthusiastic and we agreed to meet on the water in the morning.

At 4:45 a.m., the temperature gage outside my window read 14 degrees. I was ready to cancel but figured I’d check the water level first. USGS.com measured it at 8636 cfs; very manageable for a guy with strong legs, average balance, a wading staff and Korkers. Figuring the fish would be cooperative because high water kept anglers at bay recently, I decided to give it a shot, come sub-zero weather or ice water

Two cups of coffee later, I bundled up in layers of Gore-Tex, polyester, silk and Morino wool and hit the road heading north. I got to the river at 7:30 a.m. Buddy-one, Frank Squadrito, a native of Pennelville, was already in the public lot at Lock 7, raring to go. By the time I worked into my Simms waders and Korkers, Buddy-two, Scott VanDerWater of Baldwinsville, pulled into the lot.

Everyone rigged up centerpins (I was dying to try out my new JW Young rod and reel combo) and we set out. Frank mentioned “temperature’s up a couple degrees, to a balmy 18.”

When we got to the river where the canal’s retaining wall ended, several guys were already stretched out in the spots we wanted to fish. One was even battling a steelie. Frank and Scott went upstream about 100 feet; I stayed to watch the guy land the fish.

It got off.

“Too, bad; that was a nice fish,” I remarked.

That’s the fourth one I’ve lost this morning,” he claimed.

The sun ain’t been up an hour and he’s already lost four; it promises to be a good day, I thought.

Before I could join my friends, another guy in the group, Richard Hyde, hooks a chromer. Before he can land it, his buddy Joseph Tullo nails one. Hailing from Oswego County, both these guys knew something I didn’t because they caught the last two fish I saw that day.

The Oswego River is huge and the fish move around. They swam in and out of our range before me and my buddies had a chance to get serious.

None of us was really disappointed because we knew the severe cold limited our chances of scoring. What drew us there on such a cold morning was the knowledge that if we were lucky and the sun came out, it could raise temperatures enough to trigger some furious action.

Never happened.

This weekend the bite promises to be a good one. The water will remain at fishable levels, and the weather forecast calls for temperatures reaching into the mid-40s. And if construction on the power plant’s intake channel is completed, and the stream is diverted to generate power, the water flowing over the entire ancient riverbed – from the dam to the canal wall – will be down a notch, creating an ideal steelie habitat, possibly igniting one of the most frenzied feeding binges of 2011.

Joseph Tullo gently unhooking a steelie he released.

Scott VanDerWater fishing against the Oswego River's icy backdrop.

Comparison: My JW Young centerpin combo, an example of human craftsmanship at its finest, surrounded by an icy waterscape, an example of nature at her finest.

Christmas on Ice and Holiday Rainbows

2010-12-23T07:51:00.000-08:00

Each winter, Oneida Lake is the first in Central NY to be crowned in ice, usually in the last week of December. Still, anglers generally don’t walk out there until after the first week of January. This year, the cold came early and stayed, giving the global warming crowd a bite of humble pie; and anglers their first chance in years to spend part of Christmas ice fishing.

Indeed, guys were already drilling the ice last weekend, before winter officially started. Not massive populations, mind you, but a few brave souls, spread out, a couple here, one over there, mostly on shallow bays. If the weather holds, you’re gonna see quite a few guys ice fishing before 2010 fades into history.

When it comes to ice fishing, the rule of thumb is the best bite is first ice. As of this writing, the weatherman promises the cold will hold for the next few days, meaning ice fishing on Oneida Lake will be great during the Holidays. And I can’t think of a better way to celebrate the season than to have some golden perch or silver walleyes brightening up my day.

Most experts agree ice only has to be two inches thick to be safe for one guy--walking, sitting, doesn’t matter. However, the thickness of early ice is seldom consistent, and it’s wise to wait until it’s three inches thick. Considering ice fishing is something you want to do with a partner for safety, three inches is the minimum.

Christmas Rainbows

With all the rain we’ve had lately, the Oswego River has been too high and roily these past few weeks to fish leisurely. Oh, the fish are there all right, in massive quantities, even. But the water has been so high and cloudy, you practically had to hit ‘em over the head with the bait to get ‘em to bite. As a result, most of the action has moved to the Salmon River.

Running at about 500 cfs at press time, it’s the perfect level for man and beast.

Good buddy Scott VanDerWater claims to have landed 40 this month averaging six pounds each, by wading. He loves centerpinning for them with a JW Young Y2080 reel loaded onto a JW Young, 13-foot Specimen Float rod. A simple, single action reel with nothing but a clicker for a drag, it’s a marvel of contemporary engineering, pitting man’s intelligence and dexterity against the fish’s brute strength and instincts.

On the other hand, you have Kevin Davis, one of the best big water guides on the Great Lakes. Specializing on big water like the Oswego River, Captain Davis moved operations temporarily to the Salmon River because of the difficulty of fishing his favorite stream. Lake Ontario’s second largest tributary, its flow is swollen with the massive quantities of run-off streaming in from as far away as the Finger Lakes and Oneida Lake.

The photos illustrating this posting show the size of the fish Davis regularly finds for his clients.

By the way, a few weeks ago, Davis led a client to a 44-pound king, probably the largest to be taken in Lake Ontario in 2010.

The man can be reached at 315-342-4861. Check out his website: http://www.catchthedrift.com/.

At last word, the water conditions in the Oswego River are rapidly returning to levels steelheaders consider nirvana. I am planning my last blog of the year--sometime next week--to cover the chromer bite in the Port City.

Ups and Downs

2010-12-21T12:42:00.000-08:00

A fine, first-snow chromer taken in the special, fly-fishing, catch-and-release section in Altmar.

Heavy rains and snows throughout Central New York have swollen the Oswego River to roughly 20,000 cfs (give or take), way beyond what your average steelheader can handle. What’s more, the water’s murky, and you practically have to hit ‘em on the head for them to hit. And that’s sad, because when its running like it is now, chromers storm into downtown Oswego like college kids hitting Florida’s beaches on spring break.

However, like the wise man once said: “Patience, grasshopper.”

The water’s gonna go down…promise. And when it does, there’s gonna be so many steelies in the bubbly, anglers’ll rename the city of Oswego Steeltown. Indeed, the river’s last stretch of rapids might even get overrun so heavy and thick with chrome, it might spur the EPA into investigating the “source of all that heavy metal …”

Oswego County didn’t earn its reputation as the fishiest spot in America because of one hot spot, though. Indeed, when the river is too fat to fish, all eyes turn to its only real competitor in the contest for title as the Lower 48’s premier fishing destination: the Salmon River.

Last week the stream was so high everyone stayed home; except the steelhead. You see, the river’s slightly warmer plume cut into Lake “O” like heat coming from a register in a cabin just opened for the winter. Its caressing currents drew every chromer within miles into its gentle, confining embrace.

With the stream running at 750 cfs, that’s just about what it is, too. In fact, this level is ideal for man and beast alike: high enough to make them feel comfortable and secure; low enough for us to wade and reach most of the good spots.

Don’t worry about all the snow socking the country either. Located on the western edge of the Tug Hill Plateau, one of the snowiest parts of the country, the folks around here take their plowing seriously and the roads are kept clear. What’s more, there’s only about a foot of powder lining the Salmon River and that’ll be packed down into a snowy trail before this posting even makes it out of my computer.

First snow on the Salmon River is squeaky clean and beautiful. The leaves have laid down for the winter, allowing you to see for great distances through the woods.

Regardless of where you go on the river you’ll be richly rewarded. On the Douglaston Salmon Run you can count on catching loads of steelies, often with deer peeking over your shoulders. The upper river’s fly-fishing only section promises loads of metal, some within sight of bald eagles foraging on salmon carcasses. And everywhere in between, you’ll breathe fresh air washed in wilderness; steeped in silence broken only occasionally by a steelhead exploding through the surface, tail-walking in its bid to get away from the hook of a dreamy-eyed angler.

Clients of Douglaston Salmon Run (a private, pay-to-fish, catch-and-release, preserve) choosing streamers.

Jason. Douglaston Salmon Run's River Keeper, releasing a fine steelhead.

Fish the Skinnies for Chromers

2010-11-19T06:26:00.000-08:00

Skinny Creek Chromers are as big and beautiful as their big water counterparts.

This fall has seen rainfall just short of biblical proportions. So much, in fact, the Oswego River has been all but unwadeable for days on end. And right when the stream went down enough last week for guys to be able to walk across its upper rapids, we get another burst of rain, raising it to levels normally only seen in spring.

Rains that make river anglers go to bed crying, however, send creek anglers to sleep smiling. You see, when skinny creeks are swollen to the point of pouring over their banks, chromers rush into the expanding whitewater to pig out on all the trout and salmon eggs the heavy current sweeps out of the pebbles and carries downstream like a conveyor belt loading corn into a silo.

Doug at Fat Nancy’s Tackle Shop (877-801-FISH) says “the ¾-inch of rain we’ve had the last couple of days has the creeks so high, yesterday one guy complained they were unfishable. But they’re going down today, and should be at perfect levels by Friday.

Equally important is that the weather forecast calls for intermittent rain over the next couple of days, keeping the creeks at optimal levels, and steelies swarming in, all weekend long.

“What’s more,” Doug adds “this is the first week without a whole lot of people around. There’s a lot of room on the Salmon River now and that’ll keep the locals fishing there, leaving the skinny creeks short of anglers and full of fish.”

The best skinny creeks, primarily because they offer public access, are Little Sandy and Grindstone which feed “Lake O” directly, and Trout and Orwell Brooks, tributaries of the Salmon River.

Little Sandy Creek can be accessed from the DEC’s Norton Road fishing access site (off CR 15) and at the bridges in the village of Sandy Creek. Grindstone Creek can be accessed from Selkirk Beach State Park, the NY 3 bridge, and DEC access sites on CR 28. Trout brook has a fishing access site on CR 48, and Orwell Brook has a little access around its mouth.

Boundary Deer

2010-11-18T06:50:00.000-08:00

Pulaski native, Stan Oulette, with a 10-pointer he took with a bow on the northern side of the Northern-Southern Zone line near his home.

Most deer hunters agree your best bet for bringing home the venison is on opening day.

But which opening day? The northern or southern zone’s; bowhunting’s, or the regular season’s. And if you really want to split hairs, maybe it’s Suffolk County on Long Island which has its own opening day.

After a moment’s thought, a reasonable guy would conclude that most deer are taken on opening day of the southern zone’s regular season. Mainly because it covers the biggest part of the state, and almost all of NY’s primo agricultural land, the most productive deer range.

Still, there’s one small part of the southern zone that’s far more productive on opening day: the edge where the two zones meet. You see, the first shots fired on the northern edge of the boundary send surviving deer over the border. And they stay there, in massive numbers, for as long as they’re not being shot at. Come November 20th, the boys and girls who hunt the southern edge of the boundary will have more than their fair share of deer to chose from--for a day, anyway.

Oswego County is one of the few in the state that boasts both zones, and the line splits us almost in half. What’s more, our portion of the southern zone includes the Lake Ontario plains, an area known for massive quantities of above average size deer.

And this year’s crop promises to be one of the best in recent memory. Stan Oullette, a Pulaski native known for his excellent hunting skills claims “this year’s rut is one of the best I’ve ever seen, and we have some huge bucks running around.”

To prove his point, Stan showed me a 10-point buck he took the second week of November with his bow just north of the Salmon River, on land he manages strictly for trophy deer.

After taking my fill of photos, I complimented him on his prize. He looked me in the eye and said, without flinching, “Spider, I’ve seen two deer this year that would make this one look like a spike horn.”

Taken aback by his comment, the seriousness of his tone, I blurted out “You mean you got atypicals running around your preserve that have single horns poking out of their heads like Medusa’s snakes?”

“No, you…” (I can’t finish the sentence in a family oriented blog),” he replied. “This year we got bucks with horns as big around as my wrist!”

That’s saying something. Stan, a former Marine who spent half his life running heavy construction equipment, is built like a bear. A deer with horns that big is definitely a wall-hanger. Two in the same neighborhood prove how marvelously deer-friendly our range is.

All of Oswego County’s southern zone is in private hands. You have two options. Knock on a farmer’s door and ask if you can hunt his property--the most he can say is no, but he might say yes. Or you can hunt on private property for a fee; two that come to mind are K&G Resort Inc., and Deer Creek Motel and Pheasant Shooting Preserve (315-298-3730).

Rainbows among the Browns--and Golds--of Autumn

2010-11-05T09:23:00.000-07:00

Mike with his biggest brown ever!

Runs of coho and kings have petered out on the Salmon River. Still, some can be found in the whitewater…And they’re huge. I saw a king landed on October 30 that went forty pounds if it went an ounce. Indeed, it was almost as big as the guy trying to carry it--and drag it--to his car.

The scale of this year’s run is still obvious. Cadavers are everywhere; stuck between the rocks and wrapped around submerged branches, they wave in the current like muddy banners left by a defeated cavalry charge. Late spawners, now reduced to living dead, mill around in the ripples and pools. It’s a sad end to the noble beasts, but it’s the price they pay for their 3 ½-year sensual feast as the biggest, baddest kids in the drink.

Their loss is the trout’s gain. The river is loaded, from Douglaston Salmon Run to the fly-fishing only section, with huge browns and steelhead. Unlike the salmon, these guys ain’t there to spawn and die. On the contrary, the browns are there to spawn and the chromers are there to thrive by feasting on the caviar deposited in the gravel by the salmon.

Living classroom

With all the fish sure to be around, I called my cousin a few weeks ago and invited him to bring up his three oldest sons for the fishing trip of their dreams.

“Sure!” he responded.

He came last weekend.

We hit Altmar on Saturday, and saw quite a few steelies landed, and the huge king mentioned above. But we couldn’t buy a solid hook-up if we waved a fist-full of flies, egg sacs, whatever in the current.

Sunday was a different story. We started at Deer Creek at first light. The water was low and the fish weren’t in.

An hour later we headed for Pulaski, hit the staircase and worked up to the base of the village pool. Along the way, I got nine hits and landed one fish--what can I say, they were faster than I was.

Mike, Iggy’s oldest, got two hits and landed an eight-pound steelie and a 10-pound brown--ah, the speed and stamina of youth--all granted by the forces of nature to a guy who had only caught stockies until then.

Andy, Iggy’s 16-year-old, lost a couple fish, but the “excitement was well worth it!” he claimed.

And John, a 13-year-old with a smile that could make the sun blush, nailed a nice 18-inch steelie, too small to keep…except in his fondest memories.

We used single, plastic eggs fished in pockets and the edge of the current.

The kids had a ball and assured me they’d be up again soon, and often. Now, that’s a thought for a bachelor bracing for retirement.

The browns are in heavy now and should remain for the rest of the month, their numbers declining as November wears on. The steelies will be there till spring.

The fish are cooperative. It’s a great time to go out and tangle with one of these beauties. And while you’re at it, bring along a youngster and show him the ropes. It’ll be a lesson the kid will carry in his memories for the rest of his life.

You don’t really need any highly specialized tackle, either. The young men above used my Shakespeare spinning combos, pretty standard stuff you can get at any outdoors store that carries fishing gear. There are plenty to choose from throughout Oswego County and Central New York.

Being a professional, I like to look like one and use an 8 weight Pflueger Trion Fly-fishing combo.

By the way, these fish didn’t get big by being careless. While they’re not exactly leader shy, what they don’t see won’t distract them. Use a fluorocarbon leader like Berkley’s Professional Grade Trilene 100% Fluorocarbon. It costs a little more but it’s well worth it.

The Salmon River is super slippery. Use traction devises like Korkers.

Andy showing off brother Mike's steelie.

John holding his first steelie.

Withdrawing Walleyes from the Bank

2010-11-04T09:50:00.000-07:00

Oneida Lake is on the edge.

Fishing the surf.

To the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation, it’s the biggest geographic feature splitting the state into northern and southern tiers. For meteorologists, it marks the southernmost spot of the lake effect snow region. And come fall, walleye anglers see it as the best spot around for taking massive quantities of delicious walleyes from its edges: the surf and bank.

Late September’s cooling water temperature starts the fish moving inshore. But the major forays to the shallows don’t start until mid-October.

And they’re in right now…Boy, are they ever.

Normally, reasonably competent anglers expect to catch at least one walleye ranging from 15 to 18 inches every night they go out, doubles sometimes, and a limit at least once.

This year it’s different. The fish are larger. I’ve seen more 22-inchers already than I’ve seen any other autumn so far this century. In addition, I’ve seen a couple two-footers, and one that went 25 inches.

The hottest spot is Oswego County’s southeastern edge, particularly the area around Cleveland. On any given night, a line of anglers forms on the sagging concrete wall of the Cleveland Dock Fishing Access Site, working stickbaits in the shallow water parallel to the north shore.

Others walk out on the decaying breakwall on the southern end of the FAS and take walleyes from the surf by casting due west.

The “eyes” are there pigging out on massive schools of buckeyes and shad, in water so shallow, the whites of their bellies look like whitecaps as they take the minnows on the surface.

If you think that’s exciting…it gets better. In fact, the autumn bite provides the greatest sensual feast fishing has to offer. For example, on windless nights you stand a good chance of seeing a school of bait moving right for you. Appearing like a choppy spot on the glassy surface, the patch of ripples slides silently past ya, often erupting into a jumping rain as walleyes charge into the group for dinner.

Equally thrilling is when a walleye--or sheepshead, bass, whatever--takes the lure at your belly right when you’re getting ready to pull it out of the water. Sometimes the hit is so violent, it’ll send a small tsunami into your waders.

This fabulous bite will continue until mid-November, slowly petering out until ice seals the lake for winter.

Osceola's Wayne Carew with a typical walleye taken at the Cleveland docks.

A good night's catch.

The night fishing scene at the Cleveland docks.

This 22-incher shows 2010's crop of walleyes are larger than normal.

Minetto Cats

2010-10-22T10:18:00.000-07:00

Eatin'-size cat

Salmon and trout ain’t the only fish spurred into action by early autumn’s meteorological changes. The higher water levels and lower temperatures of October jump-start bottom feeders, too; particularly channel catfish, Oswego County’s favorite, fast lane lowlife.

Bearing a face only a mother could love, able to eat just about anything organic--dead or alive--it ain’t exactly the classiest critter in the drink. But its inclination for heavy current, Herculean hardiness and stamina, make it a perennial winner in any fishy popularity contest.

Channel cats are named for their bias for moving water; the faster, the better. And, mile for mile, the Oswego River offers more public bank-fishing access for this marvelous beast than Lake Ontario tributaries 10 times its length. And the village that offers the largest stretch--relatively speaking--is Minetto.

Less than five miles upstream of the city of Oswego, the river runs right down the middle of this sleepy hamlet. And the catfish are there, in massive quantities. Mostly small guys ranging from 12 to 18 inches, the kind that’ll eagerly take a worm, piece of shrimp, minnow or Berkley Gulp’s Catfish Dough or Catfish Chunks fished on bottom.

The size pictured above is the most popular among most anglers because it tastes best. Once a cat reaches 20-something inches, it tends to taste too gamy for your average palate.

What the big guys lack in flavor, they make up for as competitors, though. And the place has a good population of larger than average cats, some up to 20 pounds. These fish like a large meal and one of the best right now is a strip of salmon, a gob of raw skein or even a strip of milt (you can generally get some at the fish cleaning stations in Oswego). Don’t wait too long, however -- The catfish bite starts seriously slowing down when water temp gets below 50.

Minetto is about as fisherman-friendly a place as you’ll find anywhere. The River View Park on the west bank above the dam is one of the best fishing spots. It boasts a hard surface boat launch, riverside picnic tables, rest rooms, ample shoulder parking, even a convenience store/gas station right across the street.

Minetto at Dusk

Autumn decorations along the canal at Minetto.

Fighting a big one that got away.

After the Storm

2010-10-08T07:32:00.000-07:00

Fishing in the public access parking lot, Altmar, October 1.

Last week’s hurricane generated rains swelled Lake Ontario’s tributaries to the bursting point. By Friday afternoon, the Salmon River peaked, but not until it ran over the north end of the CR 52 Bridge in Altmar.

“That don’t happen often,” said a village resident. “When it did this time,” he continued, “a few guys fished on the bridge, in the ripples running over the pavement. One nailed a 20-pound king and another took a nice 10-pound male.”

I’ve heard of pounding the pavement, painting the pavement, laying pavement…but fishing the pavement???

By the time I arrived on the scene at 5:30 p.m., the water was on its way down. But it was still way up there, higher than during your average spring thaw. A side channel with a good current plowed through the fishing access site on the northwestern corner of the bridge. I watched two kings get hooked in the parking lot. They were huge, at least 35 pounds each, and when they decided to head back to the main river, the anglers couldn’t stop them and they broke off.

An eddy developed at the drift boat launch on the other end of the bridge. I saw a guy holding a bowed rod high over his head. It danced in time with the thrusts made by the mighty king on the other end of the line.

Now, a sight like that normally doesn’t warrant a second glance. But this time, the guy was Ron Haney, an Altmar resident who only has one arm. You gotta see this guy fighting a fish to believe it. He holds his rod high while the fish has the upper hand, letting the drag, current and bent rod do all the work. When the fish tires and starts giving a little, Ron hangs the reel over his thigh and reels in the line.

He actually got the fish to shore, but it was a stubborn critter full of hope. Right when everyone watching thought the game was over, the fish waved its tail good-bye and snapped the line.

“That was a nice fish. But the conditions are tough,” Haney stoically remarked, staring out over the raging river.

Ron Haney holding on while an angler tries tailing his king. It got away at the last minute.

High water is good for salmon and they were everywhere. Unfortunately for “sports,” the water was too much to chase after the beasts and few were landed. Sunday saw the water down enough for anglers to have a fighting chance. I saw fish get taken in every pool I visited on the Salmon River. Kings mostly, with a few browns and steelies mixed in.

Water in the River Park's walkway, downtown Oswego, October 3.

South of the plant, more than two feet of water surged along the concrete wall lining the riverbank, forcing folks to fish from the sidewalk. Some brave anglers entered the water at the trail’s end but heavy current wouldn’t let them get more than 15 to 20 feet from the staircase.

Anglers fishing on the walkway upstream of the power plant, an area they usually fish from a dry bank.

Above the power plant, the stairway ended in water on Sunday.

Under normal conditions, salmon mill around in the lake waiting for high water before storming in. Usually, it comes after autumn showers that only raise the river a few inches to a foot per storm. As a result, the runs are staggered.

This year three months of rain fell in one day and the water rose to Global Warming proportions. It’s a good bet that a lot of salmon will take advantage, and come in groups to spawn, offering super fishing over the next several weeks.

So, there’ll still be plenty of salmon to catch, with late-running fish all month long.

In addition to kings with record-breaking potential, steelhead and brown trout runs should be off the charts. The high water will draw massive quantities of both species into the Salmon and Oswego Rivers; browns until the end of the month, chromers from now through spring.

The fish are huge, so’s the water. Put the two together and we stand to have the best fishing Oswego County--aka water of champions--has seen in 25 years.

When the water came down on Sunday, anglers began landing fish again.

A happy Sunday morning angler on the Salmon River

Salmon are In…and They’re Huge!

2010-10-01T12:51:00.000-07:00

Notice: Given the recent weather conditions, the Salmon River and the Oswego River have become extremely dangerous. We urge anglers to consider fishing techniques other than standing directly in the water, such as fishing from streams, piers or driftboat, until the high water levels subside.

Normally, the last week of September sees waves of kings and cohos climbing the rapids of the Salmon River to spawn. This year the runs are on time but there’s one noticeable difference: the fish are the biggest they’ve been this century.

And that was expected. Fish that were taken from the tiniest Great Lake over the summer were huge compared to recent years. A lot of 35-something pounders were landed, including a 39 lb. 8 oz. fish that took America’s Fall LOC Derby. Better still, the Great Ontario Salmon Derby, a Canadian tournament sponsored by the Toronto Sun, was taken by a 40 lb. 2 oz. fish caught in July. The fish were so big, rumor had it charter boat captains were whistling “Happy Days are Here Again.”

I called some bait shops the last weekend of the month and they all reported the river was loaded with fish. One, under condition of anonymity, claimed so many fish were taken right in the heart of Pulaski, Main Street’s sidewalks were coated in a layer of fish slime.

I had to see that. But I couldn’t break away from other commitments until Monday night.

I got to Pulaski around 5 p.m. Parking on the shoulder on the side street heading to the ball park, right where US 11 banks west before crossing the Salmon River, I strapped my corkers to my sneakers (in case the sidewalks were slimy, you see) and headed for the bridge.

Salmon are everywhere in the river.

There was only about a dozen guys fishing on both sides of the crossing, but what the river lacked in anglers, it more than made up for in salmon. They were everywhere. I saw anglers fighting salmon, salmon frolicking on the surface in the Village Pool, and salmon climbing the rapids just upstream of the bridge.

I went to the Ball Park and the story was the same. Anglers were stretched out in comfortable distances from one another along the stream. Everywhere I went, someone was fighting a fish.

Kings ranging from 15 to 30 pounds made up the vast majority of fish I saw on stringers. But cohos ranging from 10 to 18 pounds were strung up with em in many cases…and that’s big for the species.

Again, that shouldn’t really surprise anyone, considering the world record coho, a fish indigenous to the Pacific Ocean, came out of the Salmon River several years ago.

All the salmon activity has spurred steelies into action. Several anglers I talked to, including PA resident Kurt Kmetz (see photo), have been catching steelhead ranging from 5 to 10 pounds on streamers like egg sucking leeches.

Thankfully, the unethical behavior spawned by snagging practices that were encouraged in the 1970s and early 1980s is a distant nightmare. There are fewer guys running up and down the river swinging hooks at everything with fins, and ethical anglers are reprimanding those who still try, so the fish have calmed down and are remarkably eager to hit a fly.

This world class salmon fishing is playing now through the middle of October. Get there early to claim the good seats.

PA resident, Kurt Kmetz, holding a 25-lb. king and a 15-lb. coho.

Village Hole

Fishing at the Cleveland Dock

2010-09-22T12:49:00.000-07:00

Set into the north shore of Oneida Lake, Cleveland, NY traces its roots back to the days of our country’s founding. By the first quarter of the 19th century, it had enough residents to support a general store and hotel. As the century rolled on, glass manufacturing, spurred by the discovery that the area’s sand was the finest around, caused a mini population boom. Its deep water port, dug out of Oneida Lake by the mouth of Black Creek, facilitated huge barges that carried finished glass products to the Erie and Oswego Canals and on to world markets.

Glass manufacturing is a distant memory now, but the docks are a local hot spot for everything the lake has to offer.

The fishing's easy at Cleveland Dock.

Dropping to about six feet deep right at the dock, fed by the cool waters of the creek on the north side, lined by weeds to the south, and straddled by concrete and rocks, the harbor is an ideal bass habitat. However, stuck all summer long by everyone from dock-side, leisure-time anglers in anti-gravity chairs to professional bass pros, these fish are savvy veterans.

Still, they gotta eat sometime, and you can nail ‘em on a free-swimming minnow, fat crayfish, or by presenting lures in new and unusual ways. For instance, I watched one guy nail a 15-inch smallie by twitching a floating stickbait on the surface. What was unusual about him using this popular low light technique is that he was doing it at high noon, out in open water.

Most who fish the dock are trying for panfish or bottom feeders. Yellow perch hang out in the open water, rock bass like the walls and rocks, and sunfish are plentiful along the weed edges. They hit the worms the majority is using, but I do just as good on a Berkley Atomic Teaser (a 1-inch tube jig/trailer combo) tipped with a Berkley Power Wiggler. In addition, my rig draws an occasional crappie and pickerel.

Walleyes move into the dock just about any time of the year, but especially in spring, when they run Black Creek to spawn, and fall, when cooling water temperatures draw them close to shore. They find the security of the deep water to their liking and stay all day long.

What’s more, this time of year the walleyes are drawn to the lake shallows on the south end of the fishing access site, within easy reach of surf anglers casting stickbaits.

Cleveland Dock offers some surprises, too. When I was there last week, I saw a sturgeon, my first in the wild. I was fishing in the shallow water on the north end and the thing come out of the deep. It moved sluggishly in two feet of water, staying in plain sight for a good two minutes. Unfortunately, all I had was my point-and-shoot camera and it doesn’t have a polarized lens so the fish didn’t appear in the photograph.

Get there by taking I-81 exit 32, and driving east on NY 49 for a little over 12 miles.

Panfish are plentiful.

My Abu Garcia fishing tackle resting on decaying structures from Cleveland's days as a thriving port.

Good Old Days are Back

2010-09-10T08:40:00.000-07:00

Water levels ain’t the only thing that swelled following the heavy storms that swept through Central New York a couple weeks ago. Rumors of Lake Ontario coughing up 40-pound salmon sprouted like mushrooms after an autumn rain.

With a name like Spider, all ya got’s your reputation, so I figured before I started claiming the good old days are back, I better do some verifying. The results were…oh, so pleasantly ambiguous.

Fulton's Pedro Moreno holding his King, taken in downtown Oswego on September 5

Figuring guys who mount fish for a living would be the first to know if such beauties were being caught, I called Pulaski’s Fish Wish Taxidermy (all numbers are 315 area code: 298-4588). Owner Maggie Rathje said a fellow brought in a 41-pound king the other day. Unfortunately, she didn’t weigh it on a certified scale. Instead she used a ruler: multiplied its length (45 inches) by its girth (27 inches) and divided by 800. She’s been dealing with fish for a long time and feels confident her figure is accurate.

As an aside, she mentioned taking in a half dozen kings weighing over 35 pounds each already this season.

A responsible writer draws on several sources so I decided to call Fran Moshier, over at Animal Art Taxidermy Studio (963-3817). The biggest he’s seen so far this year is a 33-pounder.

Moshier suggests exuberance can cloud a good man’s judgment: “They might look that big when they first come out of the water, but on a good scale they’re usually a little lighter.”

Still, he’s quick to add: “Captains keep saying there’s a 40-pounder out there. They’re marking big fish.”

I went up to Oswego to pound the pavement for the truth. Mike, at Fat Nancy’s Tackle Shop (125 E. First St., 216-4595), hadn’t seen any 40-pounders, but he heard a lot of stories.

“One local charter captain’s taxidermist told him 40- and 42-pound kings were brought into the shop on August 2,” said Mike. “They were taken by the same boat. They weren’t entered in the LOC derby.”

Drew over at Screwy Louie’s Sport Shop (9 East Cayuga Street , 342-3138) confirmed that he heard the report of the 40- and 42-pounders over the radio, and that a lot of anglers are talking about it.

However, Shantell, another employee of Screwy Louie’s, claims the biggest king she’s heard of so far is the LOC Fall Derby winner, Richard Priset’s 39 lb. 0.8 oz. bruiser.

And that’s so close it almost hurts.

On the bright side: “A lot of people tell me this year could see the state’s king record broken,” says Fat Nancy’s Mike.

Considering that kings put on a lot of weight in their last binge before spawning, and that there’s still a week or two before some stop eating, we just might see a new record setter.

My money says it’ll come out of Oswego County waters.

I’ve included some photos of fish that were taken in Oswego on Sunday, September 5th. This is the earliest I’ve ever seen so many nice fish taken out this early in the month. If this holds, we’re in for a memorable season.

Pedro holding a brown he also took below the Varick dam on the same day, using an orange sponge.

Pedro waits at Larry's Oswego Salmon Shop to have his fish cleaned.

Fulton native Brian Stephens with a 24-inch walleye he took downstream of the Bridge Street bridge in Oswego.

Stormin' Salmon

2010-09-08T11:26:00.000-07:00

Most years, precocious salmon start trickling into Lake Ontario’s large tributaries in late August. But only a few lucky anglers, usually the earliest risers, ever get one until this month. You see, in August, water temperatures are generally way too hot by day to hold them, and the few fish that make reconnaissance runs at night seldom get too far before deciding the tight water isn’t for them and beat fins back for the lake.

And then there’s this year. August will probably go down as one of the most unusual in terms of numbers of early salmon running Oswego County’s large Lake Ontario tributaries. The heavy rains on the 21st and 22nd cooled the water and raised the streams enough to draw good numbers of kings from Aug. 25 through the 28th.

The Oswego River was still raging the last weekend of August. The Oswego Salmon Shop’s (315-342-2778) Larry Muroski claimed guys had been hooking up with fish off the high wall behind his shop for a few days, including several that morning.

I went down to take a look at the river and watched a couple guys fishing for about 15 minutes. No one hooked anything but I saw a fish porpoise.

Denise, a.k.a. "Mayor of the Salmon River," working her Spey casting magic;

a highly stylized form of fly-fishing developed in the Spey River region of Scotland.

A fly-fisherman starting his line up on the Salmon River in Altmar.

Next I headed for the Salmon River. I stopped at Woody’s Tackle and Gifts at the corner of NY 13/ NY 3 (315-298-2378). Karen was manning the register as usual and claimed that many customers reported catching fish over the past few days.

Outside, I watched a pick-up turn into the lot and park next to me. In the back, it had a large cooler splashed in red – and a huge spotted fish tail hanging out one end.

“Catch anything?” I asked the driver.

“Yeah, we landed three and lost one,” he replied. “Wanna see the biggest?”

“Sure do.”

“He weighs 35 pounds,” he gushed while lifting the dripping beast from the box.

As luck would have it, I ran out of film taking shots of the raging waters of the Oswego River. And after buying a new roll in Pulaski, I couldn’t find an angler with a fish.

So I returned the next day. It was hot and pleasant, not exactly a good day for salmon fishing in August. I didn’t get any hits but I saw a couple fish in the Staircase.

After giving my arm a good workout practicing Spey casting, I drove around and took photos of others fishing. No one had a salmon, but one guy said he saw one get landed that morning in the village’s ballpark area.

The title to the feature on page 34 of the current “New York Fresh Water Fishing Guide” proclaims “Fishing New York’s Great Lakes: The Good ‘Ol Days are Now.” From what I saw in the bed of the truck at Woody’s and from what I’ve been hearing, this year promises to see the biggest salmon in over a decade run the Salmon River.

Forty-pounder, anyone?

Cats in the Channel

2010-09-02T09:26:00.000-07:00

There’s more swimming beneath Oswego County's enchanted waves than just salmon, trout, walleyes, pike, bass and delicious panfish. We offer trophy bottom feeders, too, particularly channel catfish.

Depending on whom you talk to, the lowly catfish ranks anywhere from numero uno to number three on the list of America’s most popular species. That’s because it’s found in every one of the Lower 48 States. And while blues and flatheads are household names because they easily reach 50 pounds, our channel cats ain’t no slouches.

Able to reach 40 inches and weigh over 25 pounds, these slimy, slippery beauties can rip 50 yards of line off your screaming reel as easily as waving goodbye. Their great strength, prodigious appetite, and looks only a mother can love, earn them a dedicated following of anglers from all walks of life.

Cousin Staash respects them so much he calls them the thinking man’s fish: “Just think, to catch a cat, all you gotta do is cast out some bait, put your rod down, kick back, relax and think about anything you want.”

Typical Oswego River Cat.

The South Rises Again
Up until recently, northern catfish were generally considered the game of a highly specialized group called bank-fishermen. And they knew how to keep their mouths shut. Rumor has it their secret was propelled into the mainstream by Southern boys assigned to the 10th Mountain Division at Fort Drum.

According to legend, most of these guys came up here and were immediately tempted by walleyes, kings, steelhead and the other glamorous names plastering the covers of popular fishing magazines. But glitter only blinds for a little while. Before long, the good old boys longed for a return to the simpler things in life. Some tried their luck on Oswego River catfish; and it was good.

Two-Tiered Fishery
This remarkable fishery consists of two stories.

The first level runs from the mouth of the Oswego River up to Varick Dam. Influenced by fish migrations from Lake Ontario, the river carries a wide menu of treats year-round – from tiny morsels like alewives to mouthfuls like salmon – and catfish grow fat on the cornucopia.

Cats in the lower river are the biggest in the system. Fish up to 20 pounds are available, and “catheads” (die-hards who eat and sleep catfish) have 30-something-pounders swimming through their imaginations.

The rest of the stream offers unusual catfish opportunities as well. Tied into the state canal system ever since Clinton’s Ditch was open for business in 1825, the Oswego River has been corrupted with a host of exotic critters ever since. Massive schools of everything from white perch and alewives to gizzard shad call its hospitable habitats home.

All this biomass dies eventually, creating ideal growing conditions for scavengers like catfish. They typically go from one to four pounds, but a lot of them tip the scale between five and 10.

The best bait is a night-crawler, shrimp or a commercial preparation like Berkley’s GULP Catfish Dough. You’ll get a lot of small ones but even they fight well for their age. Larger specimens respond best to whole, large minnows or cut-bait – the best right now is a chunk of salmon.

Like their name says, channel cats like to hang out in deep, slow-moving channels. In addition, they like fast currents.

This means the length and breadth of the Oswego River. Still, some spots are better than others and you can better your chances of scoring by fishing below locks, at the points of lock islands, and in the tailraces of power plants, especially along the edges of the current.

Father and son double.

Boys and their catfish.

Flyway of the Monarchs

2010-08-17T12:29:00.000-07:00

Oswego County is full of natural wonders. Spectacular geological features like the Salmon River Falls Unique Area and the fabulous sand dunes at Deer Creek Marsh Wildlife Management Area etch the landscape. World class salmon, steelhead and walleye swim in our waters. And each spring and fall our friendly skies load up with migrating fowl of every feather.

But not all miracles are big and obvious. Indeed, Oswego County is full of marvels of a smaller nature, and one of the most colorful is the fall migration of monarchs.

The majestic monarch travels thousands of miles in its life journey. (Photo by NYS DEC Web site).

This majestic butterfly’s range reaches way into Canada. As summer days grow shorter, signaling the butterflies to start moving to warmer climates, those born north of the border leisurely head south. Reaching Lake Ontario, they’re reluctant to fly over the huge pond. Although they can flutter for long distances, they have to stop sometime, to get out of heavy winds, to rest, roost, stuff like that. So they try to fly over land as much as possible and skirt the shoreline looking for some they can follow to the U.S. of A. At Cape Vincent they bank a sharp right.

Just about any refuge will do in an emergency. However, given a choice, monarchs prefer certain spots. In fact, they have an uncanny knack for resting in places their ancestors also frequented, often in the same tree their great grandparents used (four generations are produced each year) when they made the trip last fall.

Two of their most popular Oswego County haunts are Deer Creek Marsh Wildlife Management Area and Sandy Pond. The back sides of the dunes offer great protection from the weather, and lots of trees and bushes for perches.

They start migrating in good numbers in mid-August and continue coming until about mid-September. When they finally settle down for the night, they can fill a bush so thick, its branches seem to sprout quivering blotches of orange and gold.

I went up to both spots last week to see what I could see. I wasn’t disappointed. As I walked the beach, I looked north and my eyes settled on the graceful dance of several individuals.

When you first catch sight of one, it’s a fleck in the distance, so small and insignificant you think it’s a floater (one of the tiny spots some of us have in our vision). As it gets closer, you notice its telltale swaying flight and before you know it, a full blown monarch is effortlessly floating past you. It’s humbling to see how such a delicate, weightless critter can remain on its flight path pitted against such a vast expanse of open air and water.

I didn’t see flocks, but I did see several, including a small cluster resting on a tree trunk.

They should start appearing in massive quantities in late afternoon from now until the middle of next month. The best way to locate a batch is to walk the beach and keep an eye out for specks on the horizon that are flying in a determined direction, but in a very roundabout way. If your timing is right, they’ll lead you to their roost.

If luck is with you, you’ll find a tree pasted with tiny, colorful sails gently flapping in the breeze, and others circling the branches looking for perches. You’ll walk away with the knowledge you witnessed one of life’s smallest, most colorful miracles unfold before your eyes.

(The following photos were taken by Janet Clerkin)

A DEC interpretive sign at the parking area at Deer Creek Marsh explains how the dunes were formed. To reach this parking area, turn left at the end of Rainbow Shores Road in the Town of Sandy Creek.

Monarchs cross over miles of open water before landing on the beach.

The shoreline at Deer Creek Marsh, looking north. The area is owned by the NYS DEC and is part of the unique Eastern Lake Ontario freshwater dune system.

Driftwood on the beach.

Shrubs, small trees and dune grass line the edge of the beach at Deer Creek Marsh and provide a place for the monarchs to rest.

The back sides of the dunes offer shelter from the weather.

A viewing platform is situated between the marsh and the shoreline, offering an expansive view of two distinct habitats.

Milkweed and Queen Anne's Lace are common in the upland areas of the dune system.

Goldenrod is a bright symbol of late summer.

Fields of Queen Anne's Lace thrive along the back side of the dunes at Deer Creek Marsh. The dainty flower originated in Europe and is a member of the wild carrot family.

The milkweed plant plays an important role in the life cycle of the monarch. The butterfly lays its eggs on the leaves, the caterpillar feeds on the leaves, and the butterfly feeds on the milky white liquid during the late summer.

Matilda enjoys the late afternoon breeze off Lake Ontario.

Summer Whitewater Fun

2010-08-06T07:29:00.001-07:00

Salmon River's summer colors

Up until recently, whitewater was feared by average folks. So much so, you couldn’t even find it in the dictionary. But that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. Indeed, all you had to do was go up to the Salmon River to see all the whitewater you wanted.

Oh, the stuff has always fascinated folks. Indeed, the city of Niagara Falls relies on raging whitewater's loud, scary qualities for its very existence; while places like the Salmon River Falls Unique Area silently testify to its more subtle artistic merits. But normal folks (except trout and salmon anglers, of course) never dreamt of stepping foot in it, let alone floating it for cheap thrills.

Daredevils did. Indeed, documentaries showing adventurers on places like the Colorado and Trinity Rivers planted a seed that bloomed into movies like “Deliverance” and “the River Wild,” launching whitewater onto a wave of respectability.

New York, the most mountainous state in the northeast, is etched in a web of the stuff. I-81 crosses two of its finest strands: the Black and Salmon Rivers.

The state’s only stream that can boast year-round adventure class rapids, the Black River requires great skill to navigate. Since this is a family-friendly blog--and this mighty stream is for experts only--we won’t go there.

The Salmon River is a different story. Oh, it has its dangerous moments, like during the spring thaw and when it’s swollen to a rage by a hard rain. Normally, however, this time of year sees it low and relatively safe. Free spirits have been riding its currents on everything from rubber tubes and air mattresses to more substantial craft like kayaks and canoes since the 1960s.

Its reputation really took off in 1996. That’s when the authorities, through prodding by whitewater interests, environmentalists and fishermen, made it mandatory for the power company to release a base flow from the dam which kept the river running at a consistent pace.

The rapids proved so popular, local businesses decided to try and raise the water level another notch, and convinced the power company to conduct water releases for recreational purposes five times each summer: one weekend in June, August and September, and two weekends in July.

Last month’s releases attracted colorful, boisterous flotillas of every type of craft imaginable. In fact, professional fishing guide Rick Miick tried floating the river for Skamania and landlocked Atlantic salmon on July 24. He caught some bass and claimed the trout and salmon weren’t hitting because “the kaleidoscope of rafts, kayaks and canoes shooting over the water was so intense and loud, respectable trout and salmon ducked for cover or clung to the river bottom in fear of their lives.”

The neatest things about the Salmon River during the dog days of summer are its relatively warm temperatures and safe rapids. Ranked on a scale from class I (shallow ripples a kitten can wade) to class VI (highly technical cataracts that can kill ya’), the Salmon River's rapids don't rise above class III, mild enough for an average eight-year-old, wearing a personal flotation device, to handle.

The releases scheduled for August 7-8 and September 4-5 are still far enough away to plan for.

If you’ve never paddled a fast moving river before, consider going during the August release and joining one of the organized runs offered by commercial outfits like Whitewater Challengers, www.whitewaterchallengers.com; and Adventure Calls, www.adventure-calls.com. (I don’t know of any commercial rafting companies that run the river during the September release, so you’re on your own for that one.)

Then show up in a swim suit. The outfitter will provide instructions, a seat on a raft, paddle, personal flotation device and, most importantly, a “brain bucket” (helmet). You’ll launch into the bubbly and set off on an adventure that’ll make you all wet...creating memories you’ll never forget.

Close-up of some rafters along the river

Kayaks and rubber rafts

Before His Time

2010-07-27T11:34:00.001-07:00

Scottie VanDerWater with a "reel" armful.

It’s said that 5% of anglers catch 95% of the fish.

Scottie VanDerWater is living proof of that. He catches more fish in a day than most guys catch in a month. And he really stands out when he’s doing it. You see, he’s only seven years old.

Almost 47 inches tall, he’s kind’a small; in fact, he’s the only guy I know who’s caught carp as long as he is, and some that outweighed him to boot. And even though he struggles a lot harder than most seasoned anglers while pulling the brutes in, he doesn’t give up and almost always gets his fish.

While it’s clear he’s a natural born fisherman, having a father who used to make a living as a licensed charter specializing in the Oswego River drainage, doesn’t hurt. Indeed, with Scott senior at his side, the pair has yet to see the river throw anything at ‘em that they couldn’t handle.

Last week, the elder Scott invited me to go fishing with him and the boy. I accepted quicker than a carp sucking down a dough ball.

Considering the higher than average heat and humidity slamming our area, Scott Sr. decided the best, most convenient setting for our fish story would be Fulton. “We’re going for panfish, catfish and carp,” he reasoned, “species that love hot weather.”

We made it to downtown Fulton by 11 a.m. The temperature was already in the high 80s. Severe thunderstorms in the Finger Lakes a couple days earlier raised the Oswego River a couple notches.

Our first stop was the upper pool; more specifically, the water gurgling out of the powerhouse turbines on the west side of Lock 2. The place was loaded with huge carp, gars (a primitive fish that swam with the dinosaurs), panfish and smallmouth bass. And everything was biting…except the gars. Worms kept the two Scotts busy catching panfish and bass, and I nailed my share of the critters on Berkley Power Bait Atomic Teasers.

After a couple hours of exciting action the fish turned off completely. Figuring we still hadn’t caught a carp or catfish, Scott decided to try the river downstream of Lock 3.

Good call!

We parked in the Canal Landing lot at the southeastern corner of the Oneida Street bridge, crossed the canal, and headed downstream to the spillway, I fished in the rapids on the west side of the wall, the Scotts tried their luck in the canal on the east side.

We caught everything Scott Sr. promised that morning, and then some, including a keeper crappie, so many smallmouths that we stopped counting after 15 minutes, a 14-inch bucketmouth, a green sunfish (the elder Scott says “they used to be uncommon around here but I’m getting more and more every year,”) and the biggest bowfin (another primitive species that’s been around since the dinosaurs) that’s ever slipped through my fingers (it was just too feisty and slimy to hold). Sheepshead ranging from five to 15 pounds, swam so close you could count their scales.

But the highlights of the day were Scottie Jr. catching the two biggest fish: a four-pound catfish and a 15-pound carp. It’s fascinating watching a 38-pound kid fighting a fish almost half his size, in fast water, no less. He did what was needed and landed both.

Afterwards, he never bragged…Just smiled all the way home.

Scottie as a kid.

One sunfish catchin' young man!

Down to business: showing Scott Sr. where to cast.

Haulin' in an uncooperative carp.

Hero shot

Releasing his trophy.

The proper way to hold a cat.

Releasing a cat

Tip-toeing Through the Sand Dunes

2010-07-22T08:46:00.000-07:00

Trail through the dunes.

Stretching for 17 miles, the Eastern Lake Ontario Dune and Wetland Area offers one of the most scenic shorelines along the big pond. Boasting the tallest sand dunes--some up to 70 feet high--between Cape Cod and Lake Michigan, this barrier system’s ponds, creeks, and bottomland forests comprise the most productive fish and game habitat on the tiniest Great Lake. And Oswego County is the gateway to this enchanted collection of landscapes and seascapes.

The mouth of the Salmon River marks this giant sand box’s southern border. Indeed the soft sandy beach created by the river is Brennan Beach RV Park’s greatest attraction. Billed as the largest RV park in the Northeast, it ends at the south shore of the mouth of Deer Creek.

On the other side, barely a jump across during high water, and a dry step in summer (by July the creek goes underground a few feet before the beach), lies Deer Creek Wildlife Management Area, a visitor-friendly classroom into the workings of a barrier system.

What makes it so is the path running through it. You see, WMAs are managed for fish and game and, as a rule, don’t have roads or clearly defined footpaths running through them. Deer Creek WMA has both; its dune area starts with an abandoned asphalt road that ends in a footpath running right down the middle of the system, skirting the edge of the back dunes on one side, the pond that swallows Deer Creek on the other.

Along the way, you’ll be surrounded by the flora attracted to a natural, freshwater barrier system: American beachgrass, cotton woods, dune grapes and POISON IVY.

Signs all around the place remind folks the dunes are fragile and people should stay off. But cousin Staash claims “poison ivy works much better in discouraging foot traffic in the sensitive areas than any ol’ signs.”

And he’s probably right. Unfortunately, a lot of visitors don’t know their poison ivy from saw grass, and in the two weeks it takes for the itching to stop, they resolve to never set foot in the place again.

And that’s sad because the place is so beautiful it’s worth revisiting over and over, particularly as the seasons change. Avoid contact with the poison ivy by wearing clothes that cover the entire body, not touching anything you can’t identify and staying on the trail.

Believe me, the path will take you close to everything there is to see, from the beachgrass clinging precariously to the steep dunes and the old cottonwoods crowning the crests to the scrubby dune willows, wormwood and cottonwood saplings making a toehold in lower areas. The pond is only a few feet away, close enough to see the huge carp and pike residing within, far enough away to fill your eyes with a beautiful panorama.

Get here by heading north on NY 3 for 1.9 miles from its intersection with NY 13. Turn left on Rainbow Shores Road, follow it to the end, and turn left onto the unpaved, hard surface road. Bear left at the fork 0.6 mile later and continue for 0.2 mile to the parking lot.

If you’d rather see the place from the water, the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation offers a canoe launch on Deer Creek, on the west side of NY 3, about 1.5 miles north of its intersection with NY 13.

Dune walkover

Grass swirl on the beach

Inside the dune

Admiring an iris on the beach

In deep summer, Deer Creek ends right at the beach, never crossing over

Deer Creek Pond at dusk

Beach dunes

Footpath to the beach

Nature Park at Camp Zerbe Is a Wilderness Gem

2010-07-06T08:05:00.000-07:00

Photo courtesy of Camp Zerbe

With Oneida Lake shimmering just outside my bedroom window, the Oswego and Salmon Rivers and Lake Ontario about 30 miles north, I’m blessed to live within a half-hour’s drive of the best trophy fishing in the country. What’s more, it’s all in Oswego County, the most fisherman friendly spot in NY, where some of the best fishing is right at the side of the road.

Not surprisingly, then, sometimes I want less; like solitary moments on a pond surrounded by wilderness.

Well, the Creator made Oswego County an angler’s paradise. And the proof is in the water. You see, guys coming up here can fish the world-famous spots mentioned above in the morning, and spend the afternoon on lesser natural wonders like tiny glen brooks, ponds normally found only in mountain meadows, or the rarest fishing habitats of all, kettlehole lakes.

Kettlehole lakes were created at the end of the last ice-age. As the glacier retreated north, it left huge chunks of ice that were spawned underneath it by springs, or torn off the main ice sheet by gouges scoured out of the land. Their weight sunk holes into the ground and when they melted their water remained in the depressions, forming lakes.

Oswego has more than its fair share of these natural wonders. A couple, located on private property near Caughdenoy, are off limits to the public. But three of these gems sit in Camp Zerbe, a 540-acre nature park just north of Williamstown, on the eastern edge of the county.

Run by Oswego City-County Youth Bureau, Division of Parks and Recreation, Camp Zerbe traces it roots back to the early 1930s. It was founded by Fred Zerbe, superintendent of the Syracuse Boys Club, a man with great vision and sensitivity. It used to be a place for urban kids to get out of the city during the height of the Great Depression and find peace and natural beauty among the three kettlehole lakes set into the forest like tears of a grateful wilderness spared the saw and ax that leveled the surrounding woods.

“Fred Zerbe found this wooded hollow peaceful in a time of economic turbulence,” says John Hiller, keeper of the grounds. “Today, we try to stay true to his vision, providing a restful spot for anyone who needs a break from everyday anxiety. That’s especially important now as we face similar economic straits,” Hiller continues.

The easiest of three to reach, Lake Lorraine, is less than ¼ mile from the parking lot. You’ll have to walk down a groomed trail, through a spectacular forest to get there, but the sight is worth the trip. Cradled in a meadow, ringed by a thin bog crowned in water lilies and other indigenous marsh flora, the lake looks like a wilderness pond high in the Adirondacks. Ospreys, bald eagles, blue herons, you name it fly its friendly skies.

It has fish, too. I tried my luck and caught a five-inch pumpkinseed and a couple bullheads the same size on my favorite go-to bait, a Berkley Power Wiggler. Hiller informs me that others have told him the lake also has largemouth bass, but I didn’t fish long enough to catch one.

Not that I didn’t want to. You see, the trail down to the lake takes a sharp left. I almost kept following it but decided to go fishing instead.

After catching the last bullhead, my curiosity got the best of me and I hit the trail again. It skirts the water for a little ways before climbing back up the hill, to an opening shaded by some of the biggest pines I’ve ever seen. Indeed, upon closer inspection, I realized I wasn’t in a clearing at all, but in the open area cleared out of the forest floor by the deep shade created by the towering trees. It was an awesome feeling standing under such majesty. The last I felt that insignificant in the grand scheme of things was when I stood in a patch of old growth sequoias in northern California some 15 years ago.

A family-friendly place, Camp Zerbe has picnic areas, a play ground and an interpretive nature center. It’s open from dawn to dusk and there is no admission charged to drop in and visit. For more information, call (315) 349-3451 or 1-800-596-3200, ext. 3451, or go to http://www.oswegocounty.com/youth/CZerbe/Zerbe.html

Camp Zerbe is on NY 104, about eight miles East of I-81 exit 34.

Camp Zerbe's interpretive center is loaded with informative displays.

Gateway to Camp Zerbe's nature walk to Lake Lorraine

Lake Lorraine

Bench with a view of Lake Lorraine

Photo courtesty of Camp Zerbe

Photo courtesy of Camp Zerbe

Photo courtesty of Camp Zerbe

Photo courtesy of Camp Zerbe

Oneida Lake Walleye

2010-06-24T08:14:00.001-07:00

Rick holding a double, one of two caught that morning.

My good buddy and professional fishing guide Rick Miick invited me to go for walleyes on Oneida Lake. He called from the lake on a Sunday morning and had all he could do to just talk to me. His play by play: “There’s another one…hold it while I land it…boy this hook is deep…Oops, there’s another one…” and so on, had me considering jumping into the lake (I only live a few hundred feet away from it) and swimming out to join him.

In the two minutes we spoke--actually it was more like me listening to splashes, grunts, groans and all the other noises fishermen make when they’re on a hot bite--he landed three walleyes ranging from 17 to 21 inches.

Now I know he’s good with steelhead and smallies, but we never fished for walleyes. His telephone antics sounded almost too good to be true. I was a little skeptical.

But I gave him the benefit of the doubt and set a time and place to meet him and Stan Oulette, a buddy of ours. We launched at early light and headed out to the eastern half of the lake, into water that would range from 30 to 20 feet deep during the drift.

I was the first to get my Heddon Sonar into the water. Letting it sink to bottom, I snapped the rod back to jump the lure and get it vibrating. I reeled in the slack as the bladebait dropped. After jigging in this fashion for about 15 seconds, a 16-inch walleye hit me.

By the time I landed him, Rick was battling what seemed to be the biggest fish in the lake. After a five-minute struggle, in which time the beast took the line under the boat, around the wind socks (both of ‘em) around the prop, we finally got it to the net; a 15-pound sheepshead. I’ve heard they got that big but I never saw one before.

Then it was Stan’s turn. He nailed a carp that went at least 25 pounds.

When we set back for home four hours later, our score was three carp, a couple white bass, three sheepshead, and 12 walleyes, nine of which were big enough to keep; all on Sonars.

Rick says the largest schools are still pretty close to the creeks in which they spawned, and if you know where there’s a tributary mouth with water 25 to 35 feet deep nearby, the walleyes will be there. Look for them too in the deep water west of Shackleton Shoals, in Oswego County's 25- to 40-foot depths, all summer long.

Stan Oulette holding a typical Oneida Lake Pike

Stan's bonus carp!

Walleyes in the Park

2010-06-08T10:40:00.000-07:00

Oswego's Night Eyes

Oswego's night life includes bass too!

Oswego is a leader among New York’s metropolitan areas. It was the first port city on the Great Lakes, has one of the greatest teachers colleges in the country and boasts three nuclear power plants side by side. But its greatest claim to fame is being the walleye capitol of the world.

Oh sure, there are a lot of larger, prettier cities on major rivers like the Mississippi, Ohio and Delaware that offer walleyes from their banks (shoreline, that is), but none coughs up the quantity of true trophies that the Oswego River does near its mouth. In fact, anything smaller than a six-pounder is considered loose change and 10-pounders don’t even warrant a second look.

I went up last Wednesday (June 2) to try my luck at some trophy catfish in the upper pool between the city’s dams. Unfortunately--and some would kill for this kind of luck--the ½ dozen dead shiners I brought along for the job were quickly gobbled up by smallies. And the lures I started tossing around didn’t fare much better. Now, I like to tackle with feisty bronzebacks as much as the next guy, but this time of year they’re protecting their fry and I don’t find much sport in pulling males off their nests and leaving their offspring at the mercy of gobies and other predators.

So I went downtown, pulled into the west bank parking lot below Bridge Street and headed for the fenced-in walkway. I cast toward the middle of the river and got snagged right when my jig hit bottom. Before I could even think of working it free, some guy walks up to me, straining pole in his right hand, and asks “Hey dude, you got a long-handled net?”

“Nope.”

He became distressed. “How’m I gonna land this walleye? It’s my first!”

“Ask those guys over there,” I suggested, pointing downstream.

They had a long one and even landed the fish for the kid. It wasn’t the greatest walleye--in fact at 23 inches it was tiny by Oswego River standards--but boy, it sure lit up his face.

A couple minutes later, his buddy nailed a smallmouth of a couple pounds.

Then I got to work. Tying on a fresh ¼-oz. Northland Vegas Glitter Jighead, baiting it with a 3-inch Berkley Power Grub, I cast across the current, let it sink to bottom and commenced bouncing it, teasingly.

Nothing.

I tried again.

Nothing.

And again.

Bingo!!! A smallmouth of about 16 inches shoots out of the water shaking its head like a cat whacking a mouse. I horsed him in, removed the hook and released him so quickly he never lost a breath.

About 20 casts, and three snags later, I’m down to my last jighead. I baited it, tossed it upstream and started bouncing. Suddenly I feel resistance and, figuring it’s a snag, prepared to break off. Bad move! The thing starts pulling back, hard, much more forcefully than a walleye generally does.

Finally getting the fish to the wall, I see its long white belly shining in the moonlight, a big eye attached to the upper end. I look in both directions for the guys with the net. They’re nowhere to be found.

I tried lifting the walleye, inch by inch, with the 8-pound-test line. I raised it about three feet, barely a foot from my yearning fingers and I figured I got’cha! Right when I’m smacking my lips to visions of fresh walleye in the frying pan, she swings (females are the biggest of the breed) and hits the wall. A split second later I hear a sickening snap like someone cracking a whip. She falls into the drink and fades into the dark water like a dream into sunlight.

Hearing the splash, the guy downstream asks “what was that?”

“Bullhead,” I replied, trying to discourage him from inching his way too close to me.

Last year big walleyes were downtown all summer long. This year promises to be the same. There ain’t a lot of ‘em, but there’s a disproportionate number of big ones.

They’ll hit all the usual suspects, from jigs, spoons and crankbaits to worms on spinner harness and minnows.

Although they’ll hit in daylight, they bite best at night.

Fast Water Walleyes

2010-05-26T06:16:00.000-07:00

The prize is in the 'eye.

After spawning in river rapids, female walleyes return to deeper, cooler water. But young males stick around in the fast water for a few more weeks until the flow becomes unbearably warm, generally the first half of June.

Every night last week, both banks of the Oneida River below the dam at Caughdenoy were lined with anglers; some stood out in the middle. Everyone was casting stickbaits like Smithwick Rogues, Rapalas, Thundersticks and Bombers into the plunge poll below the gates. While the current’s edge wasn’t exactly carpeted with hungry fish just itching for the chance to impale themselves on the hooks, there were enough cooperative ‘eyes around to reward the best anglers, and those that were just plain lucky, with fish dinners. I even saw one guy catch his limit between 9:30 and 11:30 p.m.

Normally, the last half of May still offers good pickings. However, temperatures this spring have been anything but normal: unseasonably hot one week, plunging into unseasonable cold for a couple days, then back up again. Indeed, hurricane-like winds knocked down trees and phone poles on the eve of Mother’s Day, and the next morning snow flurries were reported, sending the Oneida River’s fish into a state of confusion.

The only good thing about that cold front is that it cooled the water down a bit, stretching the time the walleyes will be in the rapids by a few days.

Now that the weather has settled down, larger fish that beat fins for deeper water soon after spawning will be back in the rapids of Caughdenoy (Phoenix, Fulton, Minetto and Oswego, too), joining the young males already there. Hungry and aggressive, they’ll sweep in and out like a tide, running most heavily after a rain.

Most agree nighttime is best. However, walleyes are active in daylight, too, especially in boulder-strewn rapids where they have lots of shade.

Crankbaits, stickbaits, bucktail jigs--fished plain or tipped with a minnow or worm--and jigheads baited with flavored plastics like YUM Walleye Grubs will produce fish.

Another spot in Caughdenoy that can surprise you is the pool below the old Erie Canal-era lock on the south shore. Walk out into the rapids on the north side of the hole and cast directly into it. This spot is also one of the best on the Oneida River for northern pike.

Caughdenoy's night bite for Walleye should last for a couple more weeks.

The Best Fishing Spots for the Whole Family to Enjoy Catching a Crappie

2010-05-14T08:42:00.000-07:00

To the untrained eye, the title to this posting may sound a little, well…tasteless. But to fish eaters, the word crappie is enough to spring their palates to life.

Also known as calico bass, a majority of anglers polled in an informal survey before press time ranked these former panfish as the tastiest in the group. They’re so delicious, in fact, they’re also called strawberry bass.

Right around the turn of the century, they were elevated a notch to semi-game fish status--they have a size limit, and daily limit but no closed season. Oh, everyone who knew anything about them always felt they deserved the distinction and the protection that goes with it. After all, they’re one tough fish to locate and catch -- for most of the year, anyway.

In the spring they’re easy. Gathering in massive schools in shallow water to spawn, and convalesce afterwards, they’re very fisherman-friendly from mid-March through May. Early in the season, they’re super aggressive because they’re spawning; afterwards, they’ll hit minnows and tiny lures with abandon because they’re famished. Either way, you find a school and chances are you’ll catch dinner for the entire family.

Mom teaches her boys to fish off the public pier on the north shore of the Oneida River in Brewerton, New York.

One of the boys admires a crappie!

Late last week I went to Brewerton to fish at the municipal dock on the north shore, just upstream of the US 11 bridge. I had dropped by earlier in the day and saw a couple guys nail a bunch so I went home to get my ultra-light gear. When I returned about 2:30 p.m., a guy who hadn’t been there earlier was leaving the dock, a batch of perch, rock bass, and sunnies with a couple large crappies in hand.

I tried my luck and got a hit right away. It got loose but I could see from its silver flash that it was a crappie. I fished for a while longer, caught and released a couple nice largemouths, and then nailed a strawberry bass that went all of 11 inches.

After putting up a very respectable fight, I landed him as gently as I could. Since I was facing a deadline and knew I wouldn’t be there long enough to catch dinner for me and my sweetie, I released it.

A family fishes for bullheads at Lake Neatahwanta, in the park just off NYS Route 3 on the west side of Fulton, New York.

Fishing from the park platform on Lake Neatahwanta, Fulton, New York.

That evening, I went over to Fulton’s Lake Neahtahwanta to see how the bullheads were biting. It was a bit early and the sun was still out so no one had any in their buckets Still, one guy claimed to have caught a couple that he released.

Some anglers fishing from shore, at the foot of the park that goes out into the lake in the park off State Route 3, said bullheads have been hitting with regularity for the past few nights. The fish were averaging 1 ½ pounds.

In addition, he continued, some crappies were also fairly cooperative, especially on tube jigs and curly-tail grubs fished on spinner forms, Beetle Spin style. Lake Neahtahwanta has always been a local crappie hotspot, but for some reason, the lake’s population doesn’t turn on until the sun goes down. Oh, they can be caught in daylight, but the bite is far better in the early evening and around dawn.

Crappy and Sunnies in the Toad

2010-05-06T08:39:00.000-07:00

A nice perch taken out of Peter Scott Swamp at the County Route 12 bridge.

Back in the early 19th century, when the only way to propel boats was by sail or oar, most of the shipping on Oneida Lake skirted the north shore, taking advantage of the protection the woods around Big Bay offered against the prevailing northwest winds. Ships used to anchor in Toad Harbor, alongside small commercial barges that tied-off on the huge metal drums that poked out of the middle of the lower cut for that purpose.

Today, Toad Harbor’s shoreline is almost completely undeveloped (there’s a small camp at the tip of the point at the entrance to the lower harbor) and the huge, rusting metal structures are all that remains of this colorful past. But safe harbor isn’t on people’s minds much in an age when bass boats can skim across the lake at 50 mph.

Crappie and sunnies sure are though.

And Toad Harbor is one of the best spots on Oneida Lake to bank-fish for both of these tasty critters. Like olden-day boats, they use the barrels for cover and anglers use them as targets for their bobbers.

Toad Harbor draws panfish from autumn through late spring. Icers get crappie and sunnies through the hard water. But the spot is most popular with the legions of cabin weary anglers who form a colorful ring around the place as soon as ice out.

The real action comes when the water warms to about 50 degrees. That’s when the panfish invade the place in massive numbers.

This year the weird weather put a damper on the action. You see, anglers have grown to expect the place to fill up with calicoes and bluegills sometime between late March and early May, and when they’re in, the action stays “hoppin’” for a couple weeks. This year the fish haven’t charged in all at once. Instead, they’re running in schools. And if you’re there when they are, you’ll load up on a limit in an hour or less.

I watched a guy get 15 keeper crappies running up to 11 inches on Sunday, April 25. He was walking along the shore and casting a tiny jighead baited with a small, scented plastic maggot.

That week, I stopped by the place a couple times and sunnies and crappies were in and out like a tide.

In addition, loads of pickerel and a few northerns were in.

Crappie are also hitting small minnows and the sunnies are taking worms and maggots. The toothy guys are hitting lures and minnows targeting crappie.

As the water warms up a few more degrees, calicoes’ll be hitting lures, primarily spinner baits like Beatle Spins. The sunnies will be taking Berkley Power wigglers and tiny jigs. Northerns and pickerel, having just finished spawning, will be famished and’ll hit just about anything that moves.

Oneida River

Forming the border between Onondaga and Oswego Counties, the Oneida River attests to our county being the most fisherman friendly in Central New York. Just drive along the roads bordering it and you’ll see 90% of the anglers fishing from our side.

A good place to try your luck for northerns and panfish right now is the County Route 12 bridge over the outlet of Peter Scott Swamp, about a mile east of Phoenix. The crappie will be available on and off for the first couple weeks of the month, while the sunnies and perch will be there all summer long. And the northerns will hang around to pick off the little guys.

The action at Caughdenoy Dam is starting to heat up. Word has it the catfish are biting above the floodgates. If the past is any guide, the walleyes will be down below. I’ll shoot for ‘em both this week and let you know how I do.

Shipping used to tie-off on the big metal drum poking out of the water on the left side of this photo.

Toad Harbor fishing scene.

Toad Harbor crappie.

Wild Gardens

2010-04-28T08:08:00.000-07:00

Adders-tongues

Take loads of water, mix in fertile ground and you get the ideal conditions for a flower garden. Oswego County has so much of these ingredients it’s a botanist’s dream. And the best place to see its vivid landscapes is the Three Mile Bay/ Big Bay Wildlife Management Area on the northwestern shore of Oneida Lake.

Granted, my claim these WMAs are the best wild gardens is subjective…at best. But I feel I can get away with it because vast tracts of colorful flora line the roads in and around the place. You can take a color tour without ever stepping out of the car.

Toad Harbor Road (off NY 49, three miles east of Central Square’s I-81 exit 32) runs right down the middle of the WMAs, weaving through a patchwork of farms, forests, private residences, boat liveries and marshes. A squeaky-clean golf course straddles the road when you first get on, then the road dips just beyond the manicured lawns and makes a short jaunt through a painted swamp.

Late April punctuates this stretch of wetland with clusters of yellow flowers clinging to any dry land they can get a toe-hold on. Splashes of red and white trilliums wash the gentle slopes surrounding the lowland.

Climbing out of the swamp, turning left onto McCloud Road, runners of adders-tongues line the shoulders of the road up to the culvert that drains the swamp into the lake at the boat livery.

A few hundred feet beyond the boat livery and campground is the WMA’s golden gate (it’s closed at night in summer to protect the delicate habitat), where the real garden begins.

Off to the right the land dips gently towards Oneida Lake. Etched in a tangled web of rutted access roads, its wild shoreline bears the scars of heavy storms and logger’s axes. The place is littered by huge trunks and windfalls, with monster boulders strewn around like some mythological giant had a tantrum. A variety of ferns and other wetland plants thrive here. Next month, yellow iris will punctuate the mangled landscape, and later still bullhead–lilies will bob in the shallow waves just off shore.

On the high side to the left, the openings are carpeted in a sculptured rug of grape hyacinths, daffodils, adders-tongues and tiny white anemone-like wonders. As the woods gets thicker, the floor yellows in adders-tongues.

The textures and colors of the forest floor constantly change throughout the warm weather months. As summer ages, an incredible explosion of yellow and orange touch-me-nots will cover the entire area and cardinal flowers will peak out of the muddy shoreline.

The nicest thing about an area blessed with such a marvelous mix of marsh, forest, fields and water’s edge habitats is there’s always something coming up. And if you look close enough, over the skunk cabbage and through the violets, you might catch a jack-in-the-pulpit staring back at you or a lady’s-slipper in the shade.

Wood anemones blanketing the forest floor.

Woodland carpeted in Yellow Blossoms

Derby Hill Bird Observatory -- Ground Control of the Bird Path

2010-04-20T11:58:00.000-07:00

Kiosk at Derbt Hill Bird Observatory

Kids are taught early about the law of gravity: what goes up must come down. With that lesson, the smarter children also learn to question authority. After all, the next bird the youngster watches land and take off again, kind’a upsets the cart.

As adults we realize life isn’t simple; up and down…down and up…round and round…full of wonderful mystery, and all you have to do to see it is look.

One of the greatest examples of nature’s common miracles is annual bird migrations. Just about everyone has seen chevrons of geese flying over the neighborhood in the fall and spring. But raptors and scavengers are a different story. Stealthier, ruggedly individualistic, these fowl do their own thing and don’t usually follow the crowd. Indeed, when they’re migrating most lowly humans don’t even know it. However, Oswego County is blessed with one of the best classrooms in the world to see them in action: Derby Hill Bird Observatory.

Located in the southeastern corner of Lake Ontario, a little west of where the shoreline curves sharply north, DHBO is below the bottleneck in the flyway this class of birds takes to avoid flying directly over the 50-mile wide body of water. You see, the group, which includes, hawks, eagles, crows and vultures, are talon-footed, and they don’t tread water very well.

I decided to go up last week and see how this year’s migrations were going.

I ran into Seth Cutright, the professional hawk counter for Onondaga Audubon, the organization that runs DHBO. He pointed out “around 40,000 raptors fly over each year.”

“March was slow,” he continued, “but the first three days of April were great.”

Indeed, Bill Purcell, an amateur ornithologist who would rather be counting birds than just about anything else this time of year, added “On April 2, the birds came over in squadrons. Counting them was exhausting.”

The day after April Fool’s saw eight golden eagles, 18 ospreys, 2,238 turkey vultures, 188 sharp-skinned hawks, 42 red-shouldered hawks, 712 red-tailed hawks and smaller quantities of other raptors.

As of April 6, the bird count was 13,359. That means 26,641 still need to fly over to make the average. Most of them will make the flight this month.

“What I admire most about being a hawk counter is I never know what I’m going to see,” claims Mr. Cutright. He’s already counted two black vultures, a rare sight this far north.

Who knows, if you go up within the next couple of weeks, you might see one, too, or at least a bald eagle. But be warned “the first time I came up here in 1984, I thought identifications were close to magic,” says Purcell, hinting that it takes years of practice to identify birds whipping by so high in the sky.

But hey, nothing worthwhile is ever easy; and raptor counting sure is fun.

DHBO is located off Sage Creek Drive. Get there from the hamlet of Texas by heading east on NY 104B for about a mile. DHBO offers three observation posts, two right off Sage Creek Drive, and one atop a bluff overlooking the lake. Get to the bluff site by turning east at the end of Sage Creek Drive and climbing the hill to the pull-off on the right.

For more info, go to www.visitoswegocounty.com/tn/morefun/birding.aspx.

This year's tally as of April 6.

Seth Cutright (red) & Bill Purcell counting birds.

Ox Creek Sunnies

2010-04-15T06:11:00.000-07:00

Trinidad Martinez's turn on Ox Creek

Driving back from Derby Hill last Thursday, I decided to take the long way and took NY 48 out of Oswego. Just south of Fulton, I saw a few guys fishing in Ox Creek right at the bridge. I’m always interested in panfish bites so I turned around, pulled into the parking lot of the bar on the east side of the road (the locals tell me it’s OK to park at the north end of the lot if you’re going fishing) and went to see what was biting.

The men had one five-gallon bucket half full of seven-inch bluegills. Now that might not sound very big but a sunny that size pours out of the sides of a big man’s palm, they’re easy to fillet and it only takes two to feed ya.

They were using worms suspended a couple feet below tiny bobbers. The school of sunnies was a big one because anywhere they cast, so long as it was close to shore, produced a bite almost immediately, but always within a couple minutes.

The spots that were especially productive had some cover: sunken timber, low lying branches, boat dock, stuff like that.

Dave Karalunas, one of the three, said “the sunfish, and a few perch have been hitting good all day,” and claimed the spot was also a local favorite for crappie. They hadn’t caught any calicoes but were hoping to get some before dark.

I watched them for about 10 minutes. Each landed a couple of bruisers. Granted, sunfish aren’t as glamorous as game fish, but pound for pound they fight harder than fish twice their size. Their feistiness on the end of a line, mixed in with their delicious flavor makes them America’s most popular panfish.

But there’s more to them than that. One of the nicest things about fishing is it never ends. It’s an activity you enjoy while planning, actually fishing, and recalling the memories afterwards.

Think about it, who amongst us doesn’t have a sunfish story. In fact, the lowly, colorful, spiny sunny is usually the first fish a youngster pulls out of the water, and it’s often the last fish, too, before hanging up the rods for good.

As I was leaving, three other dudes showed up, and another carload pulled into the parking lot.

They’ll be biting good well into May, but as their numbers diminish and they get smarter, they’ll be a little tougher to catch. So if you’re looking for a fresh fish dinner, now’s the time to do it.

By the way, just about any creek-size Oswego River tributary’s mouth has fish in it right now. If tributaries are few near you, fish the eddies and pools in the rapids at Phoenix, Fulton, Minetto or Oswego.

For up-to-date fishing conditions go to http://www.visitoswegocounty.com/tn/FishingHunting/Fishing/FishingReport.aspx

Dave Karalunas showing Kahlue a bluegill.

Dick Edwards with a nice perch.

Ox Creek fishing scene.