Fencerows: New Season
By John Luthens
My first open-water fishing exploits of the year can resemble a coach taking the field for the first time with a new team of little leaguers. There is the fresh outlook and high promise that every spring delivers, but the team itself is still an unknown factor.
There’s no way of knowing how the season is going to shake out. Hopefully there’s a winning record lurking along the lines of the freshly-turned diamond, but the only certainty is that the season is a long one and there’s going to be a lot of fun spilled around the bases.
A rainbow over Lake Winnebago promises fortune for the coming season.
Spring training involves piling rods and reels in the back of my truck instead of bats and gloves. It means exploring multiple line-ups of channels and bays, gauging water temperature and wind and hoping an available practice field opens up.
There’s always a worry about enough fish showing up for a decent practice. They have multiple agendas competing for their time, and practicing with me often doesn’t fit into their schedules. If my team of fish were a little more regimented, I’d wager I could shake my amateur status and get called up to the big leagues.
Fancy flies, crank baits and spoons are relegated to deep left field. Bass, musky and trout sit in the dugout. The fundamentals have to be addressed before swinging for the fences. Leaf worms and spring bobbers play an integral part; because in my playbook, like pitchers and catchers, the bluegills and crappies need to report first.
My season commenced last week on a sheltered bay east of Oshkosh. As with most Wisconsin inland waters, the Lake Winnebago system is open for pan fishing year-round. By the time the last ice fisherman walks off (usually in a life preserver and with multiple ladders to cross the ice cracks) the first boat gets launched and the first jigs hit the channels. The traditional opener on the first Saturday in May holds a lifetime of fond memories and sentiment, but I need all the practice I can get.
Lake Winnebago Crappie
I’ve found the help of fellow coaches invaluable during the spring bite. If they’re decent, they’ll tell you where the hotspots are. Better yet, take one along fishing with you, preferably a local. That way they can catch the fish while you take in the sights and sounds, chatting with passing players, telling them exactly how many fish your fellow coach is catching, what he’s using and how deep he’s fishing for them. I have a lot of games under my belt to back this theory up.
In fact, my fellow coach felt so sorry for me last week, futzing with the camera and poking in the cattails to harass the red winged blackbirds, missing strikes and tangling in the willows, that he let me keep the whole bucket of fish. I did add one slab-sided crappie to the fish bucket, which improved my standing in the early-season polls.
I also hooked a fine picture of a rainbow over the bay with my fishing partner in the foreground. He appreciated the sentiment, but he also told me if I talked to one more passing fisherman who was scouting for information, that I would be kicked off the team for the rest of the season.
He was busy pulling in crappies and bluegills - just above the weeds about a foot beneath the surface, I might add. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that, technically and traditionally speaking, the season hadn’t even got underway yet.