Friday, June 10, 2022
Tuesday, June 7, 2022
Lake Hopatcong Early June Action
Kevin Murphy was more sure of us succeeding than I. It wasn't that I didn't see his persuasion--that I know the spots and so on--but that in spite of the likelihood we'd do well the first week of June, I allowed doubt to hedge the bet. That's not a bad idea, really, because there's never a guarantee. And until morning wore on, we hadn't done especially well, my having caught only two nice-sized crappies--and a pickerel and small largemouth for Kevin.
We began by trolling my favorite spot for hybrids. I have caught them on the troll this late in the spring and with water temps in the low 70's. Water temps were in the low 70's this morning. Once again, the trolling lanes utterly failed attempts, as they did during May last year. We moved on to a shallow cove and switched out our sinking Rapalas (not Countdowns and I forget the name) for #5 Floaters. Weeds weren't as bad as other times, and the quick response of a 12-inch crappie beat last year's skunker here. We returned to the shallow cover after catching nothing in Byram Bay besides Kevin's one-pound bass on a Senko. We had worked the large acreage pretty thoroughly, both by trolling and casting Senkos. I actually got tired of throwing a Senko and welcomed trolling again. And once we did re-enter the shallow cove--all chopped up by increased wind--the response from the fish was pretty heartening. I caught four more crappies, and Kevin caught one. All seven of our crappies but one of them was 12 or 13 inches long.
From there I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, so I just led us out, trolling along the shoreline, and pretty soon a 14-inch largemouth grabbed my #5 Floater. I gravitated to casting Senkos again, and by now it was nearly noon, after we had got on the lake at 6:00 a.m. Nothing yielded for a while, but I told Kevin I felt in the flow, while he clearly seemed absorbed in the fishing, too.
We came around a point to a sort of cup where water goes back, and while I understood where to put a Senko--in the relative shallows that pan out there--I felt yes and no. I knew it was a likely spot, and I knew I had fished plenty of likely spots for nothing but the exercise. I saw rocks I hadn't been aware existed there. They intensified my interest like suddenly increased light. I put my Senko just beyond the mish-mash of them and saw the line move off rapidly. I set the hook. Saw I had a nice smallmouth. Sixteen inches or so.
There was another spot we hit where I had hooked up in the past. Nothing happened there today. But around a bend, shallower water exists where many times I've tried, though not me nor anyone fishing with me has had any action. Part of the reason I welcomed the spot today is because it got us out of the wind. And it wasn't just one spot, but a length of shoreline to explore. Maybe we had fished 15 minutes when it became clear Kevin had a very nice bass on. For all of his certainty that we would catch fish today, he expressed doubt that he could get this bass in. So I coached him best I could; even though that doubt of his was infectious, But I knew he could get this fish.
"Let it run," I said. The drag continued to screech. The fish stopped. "Now work it up."
"I don't think I can get this fish up," Kevin said.
"Just ease it up. I'll get the net under it," I said.
And then when I seemed to have my moment, the bass jumped over the net and dove again. But Kevin did get it back to the surface; I got the net underneath and lifted.
Twenty inches.
