~StreamSide Tales~: Bright Eyes

Bright Eyes

6/03/22

“I’ve been smallmouth fishing the Clarion River the past few days. I’m just having trouble hooking the smallmouth with my poppers and the few I do hook get off before I get them onto my float tube apron. Maybe because I’m a trout bum and like catching trout on the dry fly that my reactions on the take are too quick for bass? Maybe I don’t give them enough time to close their mouth on a hook set? When they explode out of the water at my popper unexpectedly my trout instincts take over and I rear back for the hook set immediately. The bass fishermen I know tell me to wait a second or two before setting the hook.”

Friday morning was a chilly morn with fog rising from the warmer water. I was excited to get out in the float tube but I tried to be calm and wait till it warmed up a bit. I made a good breakfast in the camper and had a couple of cups of French Roast.

The water was near 60° the other day when I floated the river. I wore a short sleeve shirt and no waders and I was chilly the whole day. This morning I wore fleece wading pants, a short sleeve under a long sleeve shirt and my chest waders. Fishing with my 6 weight for smallmouth the past 3-4 days put a strain in my casting shoulder and arm. By the end of the day I felt like I pitched 9 innings plus extra innings. This morning I decided to use my 5 weight Icon fly rod and load it with my 6 weight line. It did make a big difference casting poppers though heavy streamers weren’t ideal.

I drove up river a little over a mile. It was about 9:30 am when I got in the float tube and ready to start my float back to the camper. Before putting on my one flipper I tried to make sure I had everything I needed before pushing off. (I lost the other flipper the day before somewhere, somehow while floating). It wasn’t until I was out on the water that I forgot my finger cot for stripping poppers. I found another use for my cigar cellophane wrapper. The bigger gauge cigar wrapper fit just fine around my fat stripping finger.

It took some time before I had my first smallie come up for a popper. Maybe I was late for their breakfast that the smallmouth had already eaten. This one might have missed breakfast and was ready for brunch.

He exploded out of the water for my bright eyes frog popper. I waited a couple of cigar puffs before I set the hook. He took the popper under and when I yanked back hard on the 5 weight to set the hook, the line tightened and the rod bowed. He pulled away into the current. I had 8lb fluorocarbon on as a tippet knotted on to a stiffer 12lb bass tapered leader so I figured he wasn’t going to snap my line. I held the rod steady with the shaft held up. Across from me he dashed down river and I gave him a little line. He turned up river and held in the current. Playing him towards me was like a stubborn mule that didn’t want to come along and I wasn’t going to horse him much. I had him coming my way eventually but I suppose it was when he saw me in the float tube he took off up river towards mid-stream. I was able to take in line when he was coming towards me but I only let half the amount of line out when he took off. I suppose when he realized I wasn’t giving him any more line he turned with the current and when he did he rose just below the surface and jolted the line sharply as hard as pulling the rope to start a troublesome chain saw. The rod flexed quickly and rebounded in a quarter arc as he fled. I was glad I had good footing below my fin and boot. He seemed to calm down a bit down river with the tugging match so I figured I would start to bring him towards the float tube. Upon trying to bring him towards me, as I pulled in line, it felt like trying to bring in an old rubber boot against the current. Next to the float tube I lipped him up to the apron. A nice fat size smallmouth!

Later on I had casted towards the shady bank in a slow flowing kind of back eddy cove. The smallie kind of loped at my popper as I was stripping it in. The splash surprised me but I calmly waited before yanking the rod upward to set the hook. The slacked line shot off the water and the top rod section bowed towards the churning surface water. I let him take some line to test his strength and weightiness before playing him towards me. He didn’t feel like a real big smallie but put up a good fight. We played the pulling match like two men on the opposite sides of a two man saw cutting down a thick oak tree. Near the apron I lipped him and he swatted his tail harshly. The bright eyed frog popper was stuck to his bottom lip.

I was slowly drifting with the current about a few yards from the bank being able to cast along the shady brush and overhanging tree limbs as well as casting out into the main body of the river. A gray cloud moved in and partially blocked the sun. It started to sprinkle and the raindrops dotted the water surface like thrown rock salt on an icy driveway. I didn’t bring a rain jacket and if it rained any harder I’d look for cover.

I made a cast into the open river and it was slowly drifting down river before I started to strip it towards me. I would strip it twice, let it rest, and strip it towards me again as if a frog was casually swimming upon the surface. It was in between the strips that a smallmouth burst out of the water at my popper and the water splashed mushrooming above the take. I reared back a little too soon I thought but the line tightened and I felt the resistance in my grasp. He went deep with an angry tug and forcefully swam down river taking line. I clicked the drag a little tighter and the more resistance had him turning. Without giving him any more line he headed straight out into the open water. We had a good hand to mouth battle going on before I finally got him on the apron. He had the popper well inhaled into his mouth so I guess I didn’t set the hook too soon after all.

I was floating towards a cove of calm water with boulders cresting 1/3 of it against the bank and other boulders before the water swirled and flowed back into the main stem of the river. I remember hooking bass years ago in this particular cove so I was well prepared for a take. I made a long cast towards the right row of boulders and watched my popper drift before casually stripping it down with the current and in front of me a ways out. A bass just about flew out of the water and porpoised at the popper completely missing it. I let the popper sit there on the water swirl he caused. I made a short strip to tease him. He porpoised again at it and I reared back the rod but he must have missed it again because a never felt any resistance on the line. I was steady on the river bed and took a few more puffs of my cigar I held between my lips before casting out again. He porpoised two more times at two more consecutive casts and looked like he missed the popper both times. After that he refused to try again like finally giving up not getting the basketball in the hoop, for a prize, at a carnival booth after missing it 4 times.

I remember last year I caught a one eyed smallmouth. I’m not sure the exact location but this might have been the same spot. This bass missed the popper 4 times always porpoising from the side and never from behind. I wonder if it was the same one?

My next hook up was another nice smallie. He surprised me when he took my popper in a deep pool only about 12 feet in front of me. I had just finished stripping the popper towards me and had fly line on the apron getting ready to make my next cast. I had the rod level with the water surface and holding line in my left hand before I lifted the rod for my back cast. As my popper was slowly drifting towards me, in the back eddy, a smallie rose and gulped down my popper right off the surface right in front of me. He surprised the heck out of me! I was already starting my back cast so I quickly raised the rod high and held the line tight with no time to wait those 2 seconds. On the hook set he tugged down deep, swam out of the eddy and rocketed out of the water into the air. I saw the popper dangling from his lips. He splashed down like a Labrador Retriever into the water over the side of a row boat after a downed duck. We tussled a bit and I got him to the float tube and onto the apron before the lipped popper became undone.

My next catch was kind of a surprise also. I have caught a couple of trout on a small silver bait fish looking popper a couple of days ago. I was drifting slowly and casted my frog popper onto some riffling water. I felt cooler water around my float tube where I was so I knew there had to be a spring or small cold mountain creek flowing into the river near by. I let the popper drift with the riffling current and was waiting for it to flow into the slower outflow when a fish jumped at the chance for my frog popper. I reared back quickly since I had some slack line out. The line tightened and I felt this frisky catch carrying on, scurrying about more than any smallmouth I had caught. When I got it near I had hooked a nice brook trout. He must have been pretty hungry to grab the bigger frog popper I was using.

By then I was pretty close to the camper and didn’t catch any more fish before calling it quits. Back at the campsite I was disassembling the rod and when I was taking my bright eye frog popper off I noticed an eye missing. I have to say it had a good work out throughout the day so I decided to retire him for the rest of the trip.He looked pretty worn out anyhow.