mountainborn

The bait fish catch has been 'spotty' at best. Last evening we cast only nine jugs. We made the cast right in the inlet off of Bear creek where we are camped. We caught two fish on the nine jugs. One Bass that we turned loose and one nice Oppelousas ( flat head ) Catfish.

The next morning , just before sunrise video of the campsite:

After casting the jugs just before dark, we gathered in a large circle of lawn chairs. Sitting around the campfire tonight until well after dark, talking about campin' stuff, a roll call: mountainborn & butcherknife Meanderthal & Sheboss Tumbleweed & Earthdancer The ScubaRx's The TKBaranch's Al & Fran Mike & Regina Fred & family Some left early, some stayed late, all had fun.

Catch from the first cast:

Fun alert ! Fun alert ! The scuba rx's had arrived when we got back from casting the jugs right at dark.

WoooHooo ! Way to go SPIFFY TEE ! We will really enjoy seein' yall' !! Now, I know that nappin' is a crucial part of any outdoors experience, so maybe we can line them recliners up under a shade tree ! Last years recliner line up event:

As is the case with most things associated with the wild, the animals know what's going on and we have to figure it out. Our bait trap placement yesterday needed to be adjusted a bit to make them more productive. One was ok and we left it as it was, but the other two needed a slight adjustment. One needed to be moved a little and one needed to be set a little deeper. That seems to be making a difference. By eleven this morning we have about twenty bait fish in the holding box. That's a big change from the six we trapped yesterday. Here is a look, click to start the video, sorry about the sun streaks and sparklies, incompetent redneck operator on the job:

In this short video Betty is baking cathead biscuits, fryin' up bacon n' making sawmill gravy ! Her kitchen set up is getting a field test. Click the photo to start the video:

Sherry the Seadawg said: Wow. Already at Lake Greeson, and retired, too! > Yeh, life in the fast lane ! Hey, ya' gotta' hang on, er ' ya' wind up a' sittin' in the dust by the roadside. He, he. . .

Here are a few campsite photos to give you an idea of whut' it's like. Now a more cultured individual might invite you to sample the ambience of the marvelous outdoors experience. Ambience ! AMBIENCE ! We don't need no stinkin' ambience ! It is whut' it is, heres a look: The live catch holding box: The campfire: Biscuits browning in the oven: The cellular signal that is available: The data transfer rates:

Yup, my Ranger Buddy sure nuff knew what he was talkin' bout' ! It's a little early yet and the fishing is slow. Here is a short video look at the campsites from the water as we motor back in from gettin' skunked picking up the jugs: ( click the photo to activate the video )

Three bait traps have been prepared and set out, complete with the secret bait fish attractant formula. Of course , no formula, however secret, can attract bait fish if therte aint' none. So as Betty did chores that she wanted us out of the way for, Dillon and I loaded three bait traps, secret formula and all, and went scouting for places to put them out. Using our woodscraft skills, we did the logical thing, we let the professionals put us on the right course. The professionals, you know, the ones that make their living hunting for bait fish. The other wildlife that survives by locating and feeding on bait fish. Our first trap was dropped as we idled up into the back waters of an inlet that was choked up with button willows. What drew our attention was a herron standing in shallow water, just outside of the brush, we startled him and he flew a wide circle out over the water so that he could easily return when we left. That meant that there was dinner a' waitin' there for him. We wanted him to share with us, so we slipped into the spot and dropped a trap, easing on quickly so he could get back to his business. Professionals are like that, even in the wild, they always return to the business at hand. The next trap drop was assisted by one of the most profficient of the professionals, a bass. Now Mr. Bass usually can't hardly be seen, but, we are at the full moon phase and the pan fish are spawning. That means that the bass are locating and feeding on the roe of the new spawn. When it caught our eye, it was the dorsal finn of a bass that was cutting through the shallows as it ripped through a spawning or as the locals say, a bream bedding area. These newly hatched, tiny fish are hardly more than eyeballs attached to a tail that is so small it is hard to see. The bass will slash through the bedding area quickly gathering up all the hatchlings, or roe, that it can on each pass. There is little that the adult pan fish that is guarding the nest can do except make a feint of an attack to try to repulse the invader. After the spawn the larger female panfish needs to replenish her energy and leaves the nest and the roe in the nest, which will be guarded by a much smaller male of the same species, while she feeds. The roe from a new spawn are subject to the raids of other fish as are the new hatchlings. Our third bait trap drop was assisted by the National Symbol. As we idled up into a inlet we saw a mature male Bald Eagle, Swoop down off of a limb of a large pine tree that was growing right by some shallows near the back of the inlet. The Eagle didn't try to catch a fish, but only came near the surface, then circled above as we approached. Sure enough, there in the shallows were the tell tale pie pan sized circles in the sandy soil on the lake bottom. We dropped our trap and retreated to the far side of the inlet, to the shadows of a tree to watch the show. After several failed attempts, the Eagle was successful and caught a small fish. Lifting it up and away, the Eagle flew to a large old pine that had been lightning struck and landed near by what may be a nest. We will watch that with care in the next few days. Happy with the successful scouting trip, Dillon and I turned on the Marine radio to the Noaa Forecast for a few minutes, then switched over to a classic rock oldies station for the trip back to camp. Was it a successful trip ? We will know when we run the traps this evening. But judging by what all we enjoyed in the outdoors, it couldn't have been a better scouting trip. Time to celebrate with a peach soda and a bag of peanuts !

At first we tried hideing the bottle in a can couzi, but finally hid in the screen tent to consume them. We have seen first hand the kind of redneck stampeeds that can happen when the peach sodas and peanuts are brought out in public ! We didn't want to be responsible for that kind of mayhem !

Things may be starting to get a wee bit wild here on the lake, already ! Betty broke out some of her hidden private stock. A rare thing indeed ! Here is a glimpse: Note that the bottle is a glass long neck. Now that is an important part of the swirling venturi effect when swigging. It enhances the salt induction into the peach essence. At this writing, she hasn't gone to phase two, yet, you know the one with the long neck coronas and lime slices !

Sweet ! Betty and I had been following tweets, but this is a great finished photo !

Betty is ready to start assembling her kitchen.

Now, that's a smart, heads up travel plan ! Sometimes we will punch through a front to put the bad weather behind us. Then there are times when we will just den up on shore power and wifi to let the weather pass, especially if there is icy conditions. We look forward to seeing you guys. Oh, by the way, Gehri & Chuck are in Alabama denned up for a bit, but headed this way. We talked to them by cell phone for a few minutes last evening.

Cabin fever runneth rampant !! And we know the cure. We just checked email and discovered that Gehri and Chuck also were ready to hit the road early ! They are working their way to Lake Greeson to meet up with the jug fishing crew. They will be posting photos and updating their blog shortly. We are at the lake a few days early and have updated our blog with photos, so for a update and a look at the campsites, go to: http://www.mountainborn.blogspot.com/ We have already talked to our Ranger friend about how the catch is going, more on that in the blog also. We are anxiously awaiting everyone's arrival at the campout ! I wonder who will be driving the fartherest to get here ? Meanderthal & Sheboss maybe ? Please drive safely friends, we want to tell fish storys across the campfire & hear about your trip here.

We have mentioned Geocaching in this thread several times. Here is a Google Earth look at the area with the Geocaching KML patch applied so it also shows the geocaches that are near Kirby Landing campground: Last year Tumblewed brought his GPS and found several of these. Be sure to bring your handheld GPS !

Thanks for the update Steve. We have been thinking of your up coming surgery and were wondering about it. Never the less, no slack for you in the Lake Greeson Domino matches !

A couple of years ago we recovered the jugs and fish in the leading edge of a Spring time storm that was arriving a couple of hours after sunup. By using the NOAA weather radio and common sense we got the job done. Fishing had been slow because the lake level was falling. Like many of the outdoors stories that I write, it has a one word title, here is the story: SLOW The ride back to camp after the jug cast and the immediate catching of two good fish as soon as the jugs had been put out, was nothing short of heavenly. It had been just cool enough to wear a wind breaker. The skies were clear and the winds were calm. The burnt orange glow to the west was all that remained of the sunset. It was just one of those special times at the lake. The closer they got to the camp, the slower the conversation became. It was as if secretly, they didn’t want this special evening cruise to end by arriving back to camp. The moon was already up when the sunlight failed completely and the transition from sunlight to moonlight was a marvelous experience. As Harm’s Weigh quietly slipped down the inlet towards camp, there was no need for the docking lights, or the million candle power spotlight. The reflective tape on the anchor buoy glowed gently in the moonlight, making the anchoring out process quick and simple. Having lingered out on the lake to savor the beauty of the sunset and moonrise, they had returned to camp later than planned. There was just enough time to catch a quick shower and watch the weather before turning in for the night. The domino game would have to wait for another evening. The temperature had dropped during the night and they had slept like a rock. It was like that at the lake. The strident alert of the alarm clock came all too soon. Looking out of the door as he let Dillon outside, he noted that the moon had set and it was pitch dark in the campground, except for the awning lights at the neighbors. There was a spanking breeze coming down the inlet and he could hear the water slapping the hull of the anchored out boats. Closing the door of the motorhome to keep out the chilly air, he said, “Honey the water’s rough this morning.” She just groaned from the depths of the covers, tugging them up closer around her. Dillon scratched on the door just as the coffee was finished. Pouring it into thermos jugs and putting the remainder into large stainless steel coffee mugs, they were nearly ready. “Wer’e going to go wipe the boat down”, he said as he went out of the door. Wiping the dew off of the boat was quickly accomplished and he was listening to the NOAA weather radio channel on the marine radio as the friends arrived. “A front is arriving and there will be storms ahead of it, it will get here in about a hour and a half”, he said. Groans of protest followed comments about the bleak morning. The ladies sat at the very rear of the boat , in front of the sundeck. They had brought a Olive Drab G I blanket to put over their legs. Rough water, very cool air, wind picking up, and a storm coming in soon. It could well prove to be an intresting morning. Releasing the anchor line, his buddy nodded his head and retreated to the stern of the boat while he flipped the docking lights off. As the engine warmed up and they headed down the inlet, they talked it over. They had no choice, they had to hurry, even though the water was rough, it would soon get much worse as the storm approached. They wanted to be finished picking up the jugs and back at camp when the storm arrived. To be out on the water during a spring storm was not a good thing. Those storms traveled fast and suddenly there could be five foot high swells on the water. The sun didn’t actually come up that morning. Spray splashed both left and right as they made their way to where the jugs had been cast. Ball caps and windbreakers helped against the chill, but not much. Then, as they saw no jugs in sight, their spirits sank even lower. The dark just slowly became a deep gray as they searched for the jugs. Realizing that the front had prompted a change of direction for the wind they modified their search pattern, crossing the lake to the far side. Arriving in the lee of a large, long rock bluff they found the jugs. All of them ! A unusual thing had happened. They were all togather and two of them were waving. The air wasn’t still, in the lee of the bluff, but it was a wonderful relief from the rough water and cold spray of the open lake. Large, slow, heavy drops of rain began to fall. The leading edge of the storm was beginning to arrive. They made quick work of picking up the jugs and placing the two fish in the live well. Counting the two fish from last evening, this made four fish for this cast of the jugs. They poured cups of coffee and got out the honeybuns, it had been too rough before, and made a plan. They would take the long way back to camp. Island hopping to stay in the lee of the islands and out of the worst of the swells, he adjusted their speed to match the speed of the wind. Even though they were traveling down the lake at speed there was hardly any wind at all. The swells were following or going the same way they were, and the ride was much improved. There was no spray coming over the bow and they began to dry out somewhat. They had ridden out of the rain that was following them down the lake. Things were beginning to look up. The trip back to camp was much improved over the trip out, though it was somewhat slower. They decided that the storm was too close to start cleaning fish, so they put them in the floating live box that was anchored out a ways from shore. That made four good ones in the box now. As the guys made the boats ready for the approaching weather, the girls readied the camp. They were standing under the screen tent as the guys came up from the shoreline. You could tell that they had something on their minds. As they walked up they broke the news to the men. “You guys are taking us to the restaurant in Daisy for breakfast, after we change into dry clothes !” Even a poor weather day at the lake is a fun day. This photo, taken in better weather, shows the "live Box" anchored out near Harm's Weigh.

Welcome to the Oliver Forums Lady Jane 2009 !!

Thanks Aubrey & Tom ! That suffix HRG is a cool one, would go well in a signature line. Here is a look at the plack:

Geezerville, weve' arrived ! The cake and icecream are all gone, the fancy speeches are over , all that is left to do is stick that plack up on the garage wall, we are Jobless ! Well, until the snow melts off and we can get into that Colorado host's campsite, anyhow.

Yea ! Sherry you are right ! Look, it's Oscar's Ollie ! Way to go Oscar !