So I am back for a slightly modified run of Fishing the Parkland Shores.
The real world has gotten in the way of writing this as a weekly offering, or more precisely, having the time to throw a hook often enough to fill a weekly space commitment here.
The new role as editor at this publication, a growing volunteer responsibility as president of the expanding Parkland Association of Disc Golf, a new love of lacrosse thanks to the Saskatchewan Rush, and the list goes on, in terms of things that encroach on fishing time.
But, I still have many people coming up to me on the street, and at meetings asking when I am going fishing next, and when this column might return. One fellow recently went so far as to note he has cut out and collected most of my past efforts, which was simply cool to know.
So I am going to try a wee compromise in terms of time to fish, and desire to continue to write about the experience. Welcome to the first of a monthly return of this column, one I plan to pen May through October, with winter a time of hiatus since I am still far from an avid ice fisherman.
It’s May, and that means the opening of fishing season, a time of excitement for those of us who enjoy the activity. I suspect that for those of us who shy away from fishing through a hole in the ice it’s an even more exciting time since we have not dipped a hook in months.
In the local area region the season opened Friday, a work day, so there was no opening day excursion for me.
It didn’t work to get away in the near-gale force winds Saturday either, which was likely a good thing since casting with such winds is a challenge.
Finally, Sunday my son and I headed out to Canora Dam, a close-by favourite spot, especially early in the season.
I was pleasantly surprised to find the area was not shoulder to shoulder fishermen, even if we were lazy and did not arrive at the water until 9 a.m.
It was also good to see someone had been busy late last year trimming back a lot of dead fall and leaning trees along the edge, opening up the area to more fishing spots without fighting your hook through branches. The result I lost only three hooks instead of eight, or 10, which seems the norm there early season. The combination of fast, white water and deadfall has traditionally eaten hooks by the tray full.
The first hook out of the box was a rather beat-up, paint already chipped, Len Thompson Fire Tiger. I chose the lure because greenish-hued lures traditionally work well at Canora Dam, and if I was going to lose a hook, why not a beat-up one.
The second cast of 2017 and a true hammer-handle pike, small and round like a hammer handle took the lure and came easily to shore. It was a comfort to know that no matter what else transpired I was not going to be skunked my first time out this year.
I should note I was very lazy this spring. My tackle box remains a shambles from last year, and the line on my go-to reel is in its third season, the new line sitting on the kitchen table to be spooled, but a gaming session with my buds Saturday night pre-empted the replacement effort.
So when I cast for the far side of the channel I was down to seeing spool beneath the few feet of line still on the reel. That happens of course as each lost lure means a few feet of lost line, and over two seasons it added up.
But at least the effort was worth it. The pike were hanging in a side channel it seemed and were striking after a turn or two on the reel. They weren’t massive but coming across a channel with fast water they played far harder than their size, and 10 fish in an hour is a nice effort.
It was also rather enjoyable hitting double numbers at the same time my son, lamenting he was using the same lure had one.
I had decided not to keep a fish, unless we hit a walleye, a species I never saw emerge in three hours of fishing, and was doing a good job of it until the 12th one basically swallowed the hook, by this time a Len Thompson Lady Bug, and that was that. Some I know will toss back a fish obviously destined to parish, but I can’t in good conscience do that. So it and a follow up pike were Monday’s lunch, and a fine lunch too in spite of the better half not having vinegar. Yes folks fried pike is better with vinegar.
My son did snag into a nice carp, he got it close enough to shore to see, before it twisted free. It was fun to watch because carp are the heavyweights in terms of fight among locally-caught species.
Just as we were packing gear to come home another fisherman did bring in a carp in the 12-15-pound range. Just a gorgeous, feisty fish they are.
Oh yes, and there was one more little story I must share on the day. My son, Adam, who ended the day with just about half the landed fish of his old man, snagged into a tree branch in the water. He had been lounging in his dad’s lawn chair at the time, so he got up to go attempt a hook rescue.
You may recall Sunday was still rather breezy, and canvas lawn chairs are basically sails when open and unoccupied.
Wind, plus sail, and the chair was in the channel, floating a few feet, then submerging as the current dragged it along. It was luckily caught in a deadfall. Although too far to reach, and I’m too old to risk anything like a chair rescue in cold, fast moving water.
I wasn’t letting Adam do anything too crazy either. While I did note I’d look after his truck if he were swept away, I really wasn’t thinking about pushing him after my chair.
But there is always someone with too much bravado, and a young lad, his shoes already off from saving a hook, scampered out on the deadfall, and rescued the chair, no easy feat given it was in fast water, heavy because it was soaked, and half under the deadfall. Had an establishment been at hand he certainly deserved a thank you drink.
Of course fisherfolk tend to be a helpful lot when able, and he certainly saved a chair, and made a neat story to boot.
Happy early season fishing, and watch for the next instalment in June.
