My daughter, Carly, has turned into quite an angler over the course of her eleven years. Along with her skills while wielding a rod and reel, she is also a dedicated sort as without fail she outlasts her siblings when our bunch goes out casting. And she is one of those anglers who just seems to have a knack for fooling a variety of fish.

Today’s photo from June 2016 displays her propensity for fooling redear sunfish which are generally pickier than their cousin, the cooperative bluegill. Hard to explain when the rest of us are in close proximity and tossing the same waxworm on a slip bobber setup and being completely ignored by the redear, but that’s fishing.

August 2015 with a redear hybrid variation

It’s cool too as she routinely claims the species title including a Grand Slam sort of limit last spring during an hour of casting from the bank with her siblings. Her haul consisted of bluegill, crappie, largemouth bass and a green sunfish. While no redear on that occasion, I suspect if we’d had more time one would have shown up to extend the species count.

June 2017, not redear but the fact that it is dark and we’re the last two on the bank says it all

But no matter what the catch it’s always enjoyable to spend time together pursuing a shared hobby. The following excerpts from the original post detailing an August 2015 outing sum it all up quite well.

“I had planned to go on a solo bass trip that particular morning while the rest of the crew slept off a late night of tacos in a bag and s’mores around the campfire. But at 5:30am, as I rolled around out of the tent, I was met by Julie and our youngest daughter, Carly, who was interested in accompanying Dad on the water.

While a nine year old girl and her forty eight year old dad’s interests are sometimes separated by the traditional generation gap, during those few hours in the wild we were right in tune. An ‘experienced’ outdoorsman, an eager pupil and the natural backdrop were a perfect combination.”

An early 2017 birthday gift that she picked out and put to work so she no longer needs to borrow one of my “ancient” spinning rigs 

Looking forward to more in 2018 as she’s got her eyes on adding a new species to her list, one with whiskers. Stay tuned and talk to you later. Troy

“They were chopping them up, they were chopping them down…”

Kung Fu Fighting – Carl Douglas (1974)

Jayce and Zac wielding a butcher knife, a boomerang, a katana and a staff

Wildcat Den State Park, IA – May 13, 2017

The outdoors is a wonderful place.

So is a kid’s imagination.

And when those places collide…well, it’s quite an adventure.

The wooded ravines of Wildcat Den State Park in Muscatine County, Iowa were a bit safer on this day thanks to a pair of martial artist brothers. Not only were their hands considered lethal weapons but they also managed to collect several other weapons from nature’s stash.

Who knew that lying trailside amidst the towering bluffs, along the running streams and beneath the forest canopy one would find such an arsenal?

Sadly, not a fifty year old guy more concerned with the flora, fauna and geographical features of the site. But you know, those young imaginations are more than a bit contagious.

So while I scan the terrain this spring for Virginia bluebells, bloodroot and Dutchman’s breeches I’ll also be on the lookout for swords or hatchets or spears.  All the while under the watchful eyes of my entertaining and stealthy outdoor protectors. Talk to you later. Troy

“We’ll leave the TV and the radio behind, don’t you wonder what we’ll find.”

Steppin’ Out – Joe Jackson (1982)

Johnson-Sauk Trail State Recreation Area – August 5, 2017

How appealing does this picture from a summer day look to anyone else who is tired of a full blown Midwest winter?

Beyond the sign lies a wonderful world of discovery for our young crew and a reconnect for their folks. Back in the 90s and early 2000s, before Julie and I tied the knot and later found ourselves responsible for four kids, we used to spend a fair amount of time roaming the outdoors. Field guides in hand we prowled numerous Illinois state parks from the home base of a much smaller tent than what is required nowadays.

Johnson-Sauk Trail State Recreation Area near Kewanee, IL had made the cut back in the day making it even more fun to revisit and view through the eyes of our offspring.

As expected, the park did not disappoint with nature’s pallete of greens, yellows, reds, purples, and oranges all catching our attention. The plants bearing those colors included tulip tree, jewelweed, trumpet creeper, Joe Pye weed, tall bellflower, cup-plant and one of my favorites, bergamot, all of which we demonstrated identifying with our field guides in tow.

Now, winter’s been a rough one around here, but sooner or later those woods will spring to life yet again during another act of nature’s fascinating annual play.

Keep your eyes peeled for the stars of the show such as trillium, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, mayapple, bloodroot, violets, phlox and more. And if your timing and eyesight are right, perhaps you’ll cross paths with a generally highly regarded springtime fungal treasure known as the morel.

So dust off those hiking boots or an old pair of tennis shoes and be ready to step out when nature calls (you know what I mean). Talk to you later. Troy

“Life, so they say, is but a game and we let it slip away.”

We May Never Pass This Way Again – Seals & Crofts (1973)

End of the line with a gaunt bass from a dying Knox County, IL public strip pit – July 30, 2017

Back in 2006 I wandered well of the beaten path at some public strip mines and found a few bass in a secluded lake partially surrounded by a grove of locust trees. Since it didn’t have a name on a map, I christened it Locust Lake.

For the next several years I made a handful of visits and even managed to portage a boat into the spot on a couple occasions. It was a decent fishing hole in terms of numbers and worth the effort to reach. However, I could never find any heavy bass that I suspected called it home. Closest I got was a big bite that busted off my Mann’s Baby 1- crankbait one afternoon but I never got a look at the fish. But I’ve done this long enough to know that not only was it a good fish but also that it could be as big as the story I chose to tell.

Fast forward to the summer of 2017 and I finally got my look at what might have been on my line, actually several examples. All floating on the surface as I crested the rise that effectively hides the lake. The collection of dead fish, including several bass in the four pound range, was an unfortunate explanation for the foul stench that permeated the air during my approach.

Having put forth the effort to haul in my little boat, I decided to give it a go for old time’s sake to see if I could find any survivors. The picture above from the Blog Banner was one of three bass that came aboard in a couple hours of rowing around the rotting fishing hole. It measured 17.5” and tipped the scales at a sickly weight of only 1-13. I was surprised it even had enough left in the tank to bite and I remember at the time thinking that I didn’t really even want to lip it as it looked almost infectious.

Truly a sad end to the remote body of water and even more disheartening when observing those quality floating bass on its surface. I guess at least it confirmed my suspicions of some decent fish. Sure wish they would have been on the end of my line instead of at the end of the line. Talk to you later. Troy