Colors Along the Clarion River
6/26/24
It was a beautiful morning along the Clarion River in the ANF. It was a cool morning and I was ready for some smallmouth fishing kayaking the river. The river has been receding the past few days being there has been a dry spell with no rain. Taking the kayak down the sections I’ve been fishing, or even float tubing, I knew I’d be scraping bottom in the kayak and tube and maybe losing a flipper. I decided to head upriver to the deeper flat section and try to make some smallmouth rise to poppers.
At the launch area I loaded up the kayak and drug it to the water. As I said it was a beautiful day.
Off white clouds slowly roamed under the blue sky above. Green leaf trees as well as olive fir branches lines the river as far as the eye could see. Gray hues of rocks and boulders protruded up out of the water like discarded hay bails on an open field. The water looks brownish but maybe because of the sun rays bringing out the brown riverbed below. Kind of like looking down into a glass of water with rust stains on the bottom of the glass. The surface water reflects all figures above the surface as if looking in a mirror. Looking through the forest, black, gray and brown barked trunks stand tall branching out their limbs and branches holding their green leaves steadily in any sweeping breeze. Along the river banks brown dirt lay about with any downed logs or branches that happen to get washed ashore. Among the brush that also line the river banks are purple and white wild flowers that sprout up in any given area.
I paddle upriver, against the slow moving current, as far as I want and will fish back down to the launch. I scout the depth and banks as I paddle along picking out where the smallmouth might be located. I find, as I paddle upriver, the water isn’t as deep as I thought. It’s deep enough not to show riffles in the shallowest places therefore I won’t have to worry about scraping bottom of the kayak.
I row to shore and take off my sleeveless shirt under my light fishing button down as the warmth is increasing as the sun rises. I take a cool sip of water and I’m ready to do some fishing.
At first I let the kayak float freely, with the very slow surface current, as I cast a popper towards the banks. I strip the popper towards me in intervals causing commotion upon the surface. A smallmouth rises to my offering and takes it under. I wait a second and yank the rod back. The line tightens and I have a smallmouth fighting below the surface. My first hook up gets to the kayak safely.
Well, that deserves my first lite up at a quarter to 10 in the morning.
As I continue to cast about on occasion I drop the anchor and spend more time in areas I think the smallmouth might be. Whether it's near the banks or out in the open, deeper water. The smallmouth don’t appear to be picky about my home made poppers rather than a glamorous store bought or time consuming, spray painted to perfection, home creation. I think if the commotion on top, is as if something is swimming or dying on the surface, and the body size and color is to their liking they’ll hit it. Of course they have to be hungry or maybe annoyed by the presence of an intruder.
A smallmouth leaps through the surface engulfing my popper. He reenters with a splash and I consciously wait a second or two and yank the rod back for a hook set. The line tightens once more and this one has a little more fight and will power.
The noon day sun is high above. It’s rays are like laser beams piercing down from the sky. I can feel the heat upon my bare arms. My wide brim straw hat keeps the rays from directly shining upon my face but I can still feel the warmth from the reflection off the water. The heat doesn’t appear to bother the thin blueish bodied dragon flies as many are fluttering around.
I turn and make an overhand long cast out into the open water as I slowly float with the current. The popper smacks down upon the surface with an obvious splashing that should be heard below. Rings form around it upon the surface as I start to strip it in in intervals. Bubbles follow its path as the cupped foam popper splashes towards me. I let it settle upon the surface every three strips or so. All of a sudden a smallmouth explodes through the surface water, mouth open, engulfing my popper. He submerges with a big cannonball splash taking my popper with him. I wait and yank back harshly on the 6 weight as if wanting to rip the smallies lips right off its face. The rod bows deep and the line tightens pointing straight through the surface and into the river water below. The fish tugs heavily and pulls line out the reel and through the guides. With one hand I hold the arcing rod steady as I drop the anchor. The smallmouth explodes up out of the water again trying to dislodge the popper as I see it dangling from its jaw. He shakes his body fiercely in mid air and drops back into the river water. He takes off down river in haste. My forearms are tense, my grip on the cork handle is tight as I put the butt of the rod into my chest keeping it stable. The fish makes an arc downstream and I’m able to reel in some line. He battles below with tugs but his weight and how he uses the current to his advantage I’m not able to pull him towards me just yet. We battle as if I’m holding a rope lassoed around a wild mustang not wanting any part of being restricted of its freedom. In time the fish slowly, relentlessly, swims towards me as I apply more pressure. I get him closer to the kayak as the tapered leader swings and moves erratically through the surface water as the smallmouth tries to escape unwillingly to give up. I reach for my net as I hold the bending rod with my right hand pinching the fly line tightly against the cork. I dip the net into the water and guide the smallmouth towards it. Close enough, I scoop him up and he falls deep inside the net basket flopping around with my popper still dangling from its jaw.
I say to myself, “that’s what I’m looking for!”
After a proof photo I undo the hook and release him back into the river.
I cast out a few times and then bring up the anchor. As I slowly float towards my exit point I continue casting out wanting one more battle before I depart. I cast out towards the banks and finally a fish rises to my popper. He grabs the popper as if in an ambush but not knowing the danger that unfolds. I yank the rod back once more and the line tightens again. The angry smallmouth leaps into the air, jerking the line violently before reentering the river. He swims a short distance and again rises, half body through the surface water, shaking the popper trying to release it. Water splashes noisily with his attempts before submerging. I give him little line and then cautiously steer him towards the kayak. Another bronzeback gets his picture taken.
It’s been a good day on the river. Peaceful, colorful and full of life and action.
~doubletaper
