Deer Creek Marsh Wildlife Management Area

By

Spider Rybaak

Canoeing the pond, Deer Creek WMA.

Oswego County is blessed with some of the largest, most awesome wildlife management areas in New York.  None, however, comes close to offering the wide variety of recreational opportunities, steeped in natural beauty, Deer Creek WMA provides.

One of three WMAs punctuating the Eastern Lake Ontario Dune and Wetland Area, a 17-mile-long barrier system boasting the tallest sand dunes between Cape Cod and Lake Michigan, Deer Creek WMA sprawls over 1,771 acres. Tucked between the mouth of the Salmon River and Sandy Pond, two heavily developed areas famed for their splendid beaches and sunsets, it’s like a breath of wilderness among the cottages; and it’s all close to the road.

Its most popular feature this time of year is a mile-long cobblestone beach. It used to be sandy, but the jetty that keeps the mouth of the Salmon River from wandering blocks currents from sweeping sand off a submerged dune out in the lake and bringing it close to the beach where it's picked up by waves and deposited  on shore.  

Without this continuous supply of sand to replenish what the waves wash away during high water, all that’s left on the beach when the water goes down is cobbles.

Fortunately, the order of this natural masterpiece prevented man’s folly from turning its undulating habitats into a level wasteland. You see, a dune and wetland area is comprised of six zones stretching from the water to the upland forest marking the end of the barrier system: the beach, fore dune, trough, secondary dune, back dune and wetland. Like the front in a battle, the fore dune is the system’s first line of defense, protecting its interior from the worst Lake Ontario dishes out. Luckily, it did its job long enough for environmentalists to see the sand slipping through the stones  and take measures to prevent further erosion.

A saddle-like trough separates the fore dune from the back dune. A trail, cut over the years by hikers, slices through its patchwork of beach grass and poison ivy. 

Beyond the trough, the secondary dune begins its steep ascent, climbing up to 40 feet in spots. Clumps of beech grass cling to its sandy sides all the way to the crown cropped in mature cottonwood s. On the other side, the back dune descends into a pond created by Deer Creek on its last leg to its mouth. By this point it moves so slow, it seeps into the sand before reaching the lake.

The stream’s water temperature keeps the system cool enough to support thriving populations of fish, including largemouth bass (some over 6 pounds), northern pike (most are axe handles, but some go 30 inches) bullheads up to a foot long, and yellow perch and sunfish averaging 6 inches. It even harbors bowfin; a native species that’s been around since the Jurassic period and can breathe air.

Canada Geese, mallards, blue herons, kingfisher, osprey, and a variety of less common water fowl; and mammals like mink, muskrats and beaver find Deer Creek Marsh to their liking.  Pheasants and cottontail rabbits flourish in the WMA’s grasslands. Whitetail deer, raccoons and turkeys flourish in the woods tracing its edges.

Most argue the best way to see the marsh is by canoe.  “You can silently paddle up to everything from beavers to geese,” argues cousin Staash.

The access site on NY 3, 2 miles north of Port Ontario, offers parking for about 10 cars and a beach launch.

Others prefer to hike it’s two most prominent features, the beach and sand dune. Although climbing and walking on dunes is prohibited, the trough between the fore dune and secondary dune has a ½-mile long trail running through it, and a couple of boardwalks allowing folks to cross over the fore dune without hurting it or brushing the poison ivy that grows on it like a weed. The southern boardwalk ends in a fishing platform looming over the pond.

Get there by heading north on NY 3 from Port Ontario for a little over 2 miles. Turn left on Rainbow Shores Road, drive to the end, turn left on South Rainbow Shores Road (unmarked), bear left at the fork a few hundred feet later and continue to the parking lot.

WMAs are managed…you guessed it, for wildlife and related recreation: primarily hunting, fishing , bird watching, stuff like that. 

Off-road vehicles, camping, and camp fires are prohibited.

Boardwalk.

Walking the Trough.

Gateway to the beach.

Oneida Lake: Hawgmouth Capital of Central New York

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.

Salmon River Reservoir: Island Bass

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.