Living in Season

Yummy, yummy pike

Earlier this week Grant and Blaine spent some father/son time on the ice fishing for pike, and brought home seven of them! This was unheard of when we lived in Kalispell. If we caught one or two we were excited. The two largest were around five to six pounds. They'll be good eating. Sam was less than impressed. He is fascinated by fish, but sure as shooting doesn't want to touch them!

Catfish and Bass at Widow Coulee

G rant fishes a lot for work, but my time at the water has taken a serious back seat between working and wrangling Sam. Thankfully, he's heading into that fun age when we can take him with us, and build family memories. Since Grant's off on Monday, he suggested we go fishing; however, the forecast looked dismal. So, yesterday we got our act together early, and headed to Widow Coulee (near the Highwoods) along the Missouri River.

It's roughly a thirty-mile drive from here, much of it along gravel roads past large farms and state land. On the drive out we saw a gorgeous mule deer buck. What a lovely sight along the top of a coulee!

The fishing access site at Widow Coulee is stunning. It looked like a painting with colors streaming through the cliffs along the river as it wound its way along the prairie. I loved it!

It wasn't what you'd call a banner day for fishing, but we did okay. I used the spinner to begin while Grant fished with a worm off the bottom. He caught a catfish in short order. I switched to a worm, and brought in a small mouthed bass. That was it for our big catches, except for the copious amount of "salad" we reeled in from the bottom.

Sam had a great time. I put him in a life jacket just to be safe, and he was fine as long as he didn't fall over. Then he looked like the younger brother in "A Christmas Story" whose mom over-dressed him to walk to school. It was hilarious, but Sam got pretty irritated by it. He played with his piece of driftwod, tore apart the greens we brought from the river, and sorted the worms. Grant even showed him his first crawdad.

He's slowly overcoming his apprehension of the fish, too. When Grant reeled in the catfish, Sam cried, but still couldn't resist going up and touching it. When I brought mine on shore, he wasn't crying, but wasn't keen on coming too close. (Thankfully, he had no problem eating them for dinner.)

After a few hours, Grant packed Sam in his backpack up to the truck, and we were on our way. Playing along the Missouri takes a lot out of a boy.

Not Quite Fish in a Barrel

During the spring and early summer it's fairly common to see the shallow water along lakes and rivers to seemingly boil with hundreds of spawning carp. They make quite the ruckus! Of course, this is part of their negative image since they are known to stir up the bottom making water murky, and unhospitable to spawning trout or other more desirable species.

Step in the bow hunters. Over the years, the sport of carp shooting - where people shoot the fish with a bow and arrow and reel them back in on a heavy line - is gaining popularity, and after joining a local shooter for an afternoon of carp hunting, I can see why. It's exciting when you see them coming right at you just below the water's surface. Or if there is a mess of them fighting along the water's edge.

But it's not as easy as it may seem. The water refraction makes them look deceptively close to the surface, which means it's best to shoot at least a half a foot lower than what you'd think. Plus, the water slows the arrow, making it inefficient in much more than two feet of water.

Some people eat the carp (they originate in Asia and are an important food source in that region), and I've heard smoking them works pretty well. I would like to try one this year to see. If nothing else, the coyotes and birds certainly enjoy the bounty and make quick work of any casualities.

Sam and the Spawning Carp

    Today was Sam’s first venture fishing. Granted, he didn’t do much except sleep in his insect-protected carrier, but it was a wonderful outing nonetheless. We traveled south of Ulmto fish backwater on the Missouri River attempting to land carp, brown trout or even a wiley walleye.

   The temperature and conditions were perfect – high overcast with a very slight breeze. There are a myriad of wildflowers blooming and it still smells like chokecherry blossoms even though most are finished for the season. It’s one of those times when you sit and inhale the day.

   We noticed splashing in the shallows. At first I thought it was ducks gone wild, but Grant said the carp were spawning. Their spawning is dictated by water temperature, which was obviously was ideal. Hundreds of bodies swam just below the surface along the edge periodically splashing. The eggs will hatch within four days, spend approximately a month in the area then head to the river.

   Since the carp were preoccupied, we didn’t think we’d have much luck so concentrated on the browns with a variety of spinners. No luck on that account, but it was enjoyable being out and we plan to return for carp when they are less busy.

   I was delighted to find a substantial amount of wild licorice, also called jealous woman because the burrs stick to you like a wife to her man. I need to find out if it’s the same variety I chewed when I had a sore throat as a child. The thick, woody root smells the same, but I’m not sure of the species.

Fay Schaller, the interpretive ranger at the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center here in Great Falls told me it was used by the Native Americans in a tea, and was a valuable trade item. Natural sweeteners are hard to find so I can understand why.

Tales from the Perch Palace

    

I know there are skeptics, but there’s something to ice fishing. Admittedly, my initial opinion of the sport came from watching crazy people bundled up beyond human form sitting on buckets in the middle of frozen lakes during the nastiest weather. Ton of fun. You betcha.

     That was until the “Perch Palace.” The fall before we were married Grant built an ominous looking 4'-squared, black-painted box with a little door on one side and small sliding window on another. It resembled an instrument of punishment in a bad prison movie. He assured me I would appreciate it. Ya, sure.

     But he was right. Now I look forward to ice fishing in any weather. After sliding the palace to its proper location on the lake, we drill two holes in opposite corners, then slide it over top. Once it’s in place and we step inside, it is a different world. The holes gleam from the floor, and it is remarkable to see far into the clear water. I love watching the perch come to the lure, and when they inhale the bait, not just hope to feel a nibble. It’s our own private show.

    What’s more lovely is the little propane heater. We keep the window slightly cracked so we don’t start seeing things, but instead of the heavy layers, we kick back in t-shirts while sacking up the perch. He was right, it didn't take me long to love it.

     It’s also a good time for us to catch up with no television, radio or other distractions. We stare down the luminescent holes in the ice and talk. It’s very relaxing. (Of course, that might be from the carbon monoxide build up from the heater.) If the fishing is slow, I’ll bring something to read because once I have my hands occupied with another task, the law of the universe dictates that the fish will bite.

     Another concept I learned during the first year with the ice house is perch are fine, pike are great, but don’t let a sucker grab your lure. That first time out, I was so enthralled with watching the fish in the hole, that I didn’t pull my lure out of the water when a one cruised through. I’m not saying suckers, members of the carp family, are bad. I'm sure I could find some way to cook them. They’re just terribly ugly with large scales and ominous looking mouths. Plus they tend to fight violently and make a tremendous mess.

     I watched mesmerized as the sucker took the bait, but quickly realized my error when it started thrashing wildly, spraying the entire inside of the house, including us, with water. Grant took it off, because I wasn’t going to touch it. He told me I got to release the next one that I let grab the hook, so when the next one came through - “zip!” the lure was ranked out of range.

     I'm really looking forward to pike fishing on the east side, but we’re going to need a bigger ice house to accommodate a spearing hole. Since my natural inclination when I have a pike on the line is to practically dive in after it, I think I’m going to enjoy spearing. It’ll also be fun to utilize tip-ups, something we didn’t use much in the Flathead, so I have a lot more to learn.