A Priceless Weekend Fishin’ with the Family

Three motley fishermen in a two-man boat! Dad, with Coleman and Alex…and a dead trolling motor.

Search for morels or go fishin’? That was the question. Last week was St. Pats and historically a great time to start looking through the woods under the elms and big oaks for the tastiest mushroom ever to grace the woodlands. But if the weather hasn’t been right, mid-March is a little too early for mushrooms. This was one of those years when there was not a definitive answer about whether or not the weather conditions had been suitable enough for long enough to produce mushrooms – they might be up but it might be just a tad early. We had had about a week of nights in the 40’s and 50’s and days in the 60’s and low 70’s prior to St. Pat’s weekend so the decision was tough. The kids wanted to fish but I didn’t want to miss the first good mushroom bloom. When it came down to it my wife reminded me that I had promised my youngest son, Coleman that we would fish, so fishing it was. And I think I cut it just right because I heard only a few stories about mushrooms so the big bloom is hopefully yet to come!

Proud fisherman Coleman Stephens with a crappie caught on a crankbait!

Saturday evening we crammed the kids, fishing poles, grill, chicken breasts, and sliced potatoes in the truck and headed for Moose Head Lake for the 2^nd weekend in a row. I had to do some reconstructing of my beaver sets because the high water from last week had filled the traps with debris and washed out much of my trap bed work. Upon arriving, my son, Alex and I reset the traps and helped get the fire going. Mom, Ashley, and Coleman were on cooking detail. Alex and I jumped in the two-man boat and headed up the lake.

Just before the big lightening strike - angler Alex Stephens with one of the many small bass that really got active as the low pressure swept in from the northwest.

There was a low pressure area just west of us as we began fishing. I was hoping that the brewing storm would stir the big fish into activity. Alex was casting an open-faced reel with 10# test line, a medium-heavy 6’ rod and a #11 Rapala Fire Tiger. I was pitching a bait caster with a 6’ rod, 10# test line, and a white-headed single spinner with a chartreuse skirt. No sooner had we started up the north bank than we started catching fish. The water temperature was still a little low so the hits were light and sluggish. You could say that they were more of a drag than a hit.

The old man even got into the fishing groove. One-Eyed Hillbilly, Greg Stephens with a an Ozark lake largemouth bass. Not a big one but better than a poke in the eye...trust me on that!

As the evening’s light began to fade the flashes of lightening could be seen in the distance and the fish activity increased. Just as we started hooking fish consistently the wind picked up, blowing from the north. One big bolt of lightening later Alex looked at me and we both decided it was time to ‘bug out’. Of course we were two hundred yards from the dock and the battery went dead on the trolling motor and we only had one paddle. Each time you made a stroke with the paddle the whole boat shift left or right. It was a ridiculous spectacle as I paddled for all I was worth fighting the north wind all the way and zigzagging back and forth like an over-active stick bait! By the time we made it to the dock I was soaked and out of breath. But it was worth it because we had been on an exciting springtime Ozark fishing adventure and caught several small bass in the process.

If that isn't the grin of a proud fisherman full of orneriness then I don't know what is! Coleman Stephens with a large mouth bass.

The next day turned out to be beautiful and we decided to go again. This time Coleman and Ashley got into the fishing groove as well. After having slower luck with the lures from the day before we switched to a green and blue deep running crank bait and immediately began getting hits. Alex and Coleman caught several bass as we drifted in the wind down the south shore. Ashley on the other hand had a little bit of a challenge casting the open faced reel. You never knew whether the lure was going to land in the boat, behind the boat, or five feet in front of the boat. She didn’t manage to catch a fish but she had fun trying and we had fun watching her! Next time she will hook one I’m sure.

After the storm and a good grilled chicken dinner - the family poses with the dock and lake in the background. A priceless weekend!

As we packed up to leave mom asked me if we might let Ashley drive the Tahoe down the ½ mile driveway to the road since she didn’t get to fish as much as the boys. She is now almost 15 and anxious to learn to drive. So, I put her between my legs with the seat all the way back and off we went. The drive to the road was about as ridiculous as the boat ride back to the dock the evening before – zigzagging all the way! I’m worried about my insurance rates in the next few years… How do you put a price tag on a weekend like that? I’d call it priceless. So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly.




Greg Stephens is a 35-year veteran & life-time student of the great outdoors. His column appears weekly in print & online publications. You can email him at gregstephens@one-eyedhillbilly.com. For more columns go to www.one-eyedhillbilly.blogspot.com.