Lets begin by saying happy New Year to all the followers of Moose Knuckle’s adventures. Unfortunately, at this time we still have no hard water with which to begin ice-fishing adventures on. So desperate for ice, I went so far as to call Crossroads Outdoors in Chestertown, New York; receiving a report of marginal ice in some bays. Fine conditions if you want to join the Polar Bear Swim Club on New Years Day.
As we continue to pray to the god of snow and ice (does this even exist?) and do a little dance of the hooligans, designed to make the jet stream bring in a frigid Canadian air mass, the team has resorted to other sources of entertainment. Recently we have discovered Native American Indian History and decided to pursue the subject matter to exhaustion.
One of our friends gave us a hot tip from New Jersey lore, and we gave it a go. The Leni-Lenape were the indigenous people of the area, they tended to occupy natural rock shelters in the limestone forest regions near trails and waterways. At one point there were probably several thousand inhabitants in the region where we went exploring.
Searching the dense forests and cliffs for the elusive Indian rock shelters, we found a hunter’s snare trap, be careful when walking through the woods! As we circled the trap careful not to walk through it it, we spotted a long crevice between two boulders. Approaching for further inspection, we stumbled upon a rock shelter morphing into a cave at the rear. I gave my father a flashlight and told him to crawl in and investigate. This shelter and small cave, likely was an encampment for early human occupants of the area.
Please remember that when searching the woods to always ask permission before venturing on private property. Further note it is against both federal and state law to remove, disturb or deface any artifacts you may find on public or private lands.
December 25, 2011 between 9:30 and 11:00 a.m. saw me down at Clarks Creek trying to hook a yule trout. It might have been about 45 degrees out—not too bad for Christmas Day. There was a breeze but it was bright and sunny. I took the beater rod and creel but left the dog at home. Doubtless Bogie was content there anyway. My mother-in-law is in for a holiday visit, and has passed a lot of time scratching his ears and sneaking morsels to him.
I trekked straight upstream to what I call the Swimming Hole, about 200 yards or so from our property. On really hot dog days, when it hits about 95 in the shade, we might go up to this spot for a nice, refreshing swim. I remember taking our daughter here snorkeling a few times even. She would be on a beach raft from Barnegat Light with her face down into the water, peering through the mask and signaling to me whenever she saw something below. The rule was she had to lift her right foot every time she saw a fish and that foot went up quite a bit.
The Swimming Hole is usually good for at least a couple of trout. There’s a nice riffle at the head. The depth changes and the bottom contour changes, to a degree, every time the creek floods, which lately has been 2-3 times a year. On average, the Swimming Hole is 3-4 feet deep. For the most part the bottom is sandy but there are a few rocks here and there. A rock that sticks up out of the water just near the bottom of the riffle more often than not has a trout near it, or at least I like to think it does. I think everyone has a rock like that in their favorite stream.
I caught a 16 inch brown at this location three weeks earlier. Besides trout, the Swimming Hole usually has some nice fallfish and suckers too. The fallfish are not finicky and will snap at a small spinner or spoon just as quickly as some of the trout will. It is not uncommon to catch brown trout, brook trout, fallfish and suckers during the same outing, when fishing the Swimming Hole. Using worms it is guaranteed. If you want to make a trifecta or whatever a four-fecta is called, it can be done at the Swimming Hole. A nice fallfish or a sucker on light tackle can be great fun, and can help one get rid of any skunk in the event the trout aren’t biting.
I wanted to experiment around with jigs and/or jig-like lures, thinking something worked subtly along the bottom would be a good way to entice fish with it now being a few days into winter. I did not want to freak them out with something more erratic—say a big-bladed spinner. First I went really subtle with what is basically an ice lure, a Live Forage minnow from Northland. I worked it straight and then also under a ½ inch cork float, and no takers either way.
Lures tried down at the Clarks Creek on Christmas Day
I then tied on a 1/10 oz. nickel Swedish Pimple, which had a small red “flipper blade” down at the business end. This lure is only about an inch long. I flicked it up to the head of the riffle, and worked it all the way back to me with a slight jigging motion. No luck after a few casts. I then worked it back with a slow, steady retrieve, mixing in a few jig motions along the way—hugging the bottom and bouncing. The second time like this, a fish took it. It was a nice fight that gained momentum once both the fish and I realized what was going on, which is often the case with winter trout. I was playing out my “landing strategy” in my mind while working the fish to the tune of a nice bend in the rod. I got it to within 3 feet of me and it threw the hook. Maybe it was the same 16 incher I threw back three weeks earlier? From what I could tell by trying to catch a glimpse of it as it jerked and darted around in the water, it was indeed a trout and it was at least a foot long. Anyway, it was a successful hands free release.
I worked the hole a few more times with the pimple sans success. I then worked back toward our property, fishing a couple of small holes and saving the hole right behind the property until last. I climbed out onto my “Hemlock Dock” and worked the pimple around a few times with no luck. Next I tied on a Trout Magnet, which is a very small shad-dart type of head with a split-tail plastic bait on it. I got a couple of nice hits on this, right up against the dock from what seemed like the same fish, but nothing that I could even hit the crank on—just quick and gone.
The Hemlock Dock
I could have stayed out longer but suddenly I remembered I had a pretty extensive Christmas menu I had to start working on, including the stuffing for the Cornish hens and some homemade onion soup, so I headed back.
Ever hear the talk of those legendary ponds, mythical rivers or the best of the best fishing spots. We have all heard of these amazing fishing places, these monster fish holes those epic “spots”. Have we ever checked them out to determine the validity of these stories with high anticipation of that record setting fish? Of course we have! Did we catch that 15 pound bass? Well.. I’m pretty sure you can answer that yourself.
Determined to find the hidden treasure I had heard so much about, I escaped from the real world just for a few hours to venture off towards one of these hermetical, only once before seen, wonders of Sparta, New Jersey.
While I was gearing up, I could have sworn I heard the woods and ridges laughing at me, mocking me. All I could think about was how up over that ridge lies my dream pond. No, it was a lake. Hell no, it was an ocean from the stories I had heard lined with trout and bass as far as the eye could see. So I set off up over the hills.
IT DOES EXIST!! Sweat from excitement was soaking my brow as tied on my Swimming Frog (Size 2). Not going for just any fish, I was going to become the new legend of Northern New Jersey. A few casts brought a few hits from some pretty big lake monsters. Now mind you, this “lake,” is said very lightly. About 100 feet across and 200 feet long at about 8 feet at the deepest depth. Just trying to start my own legendary status!
There it was, my trophy fish. This fish gave one hell of a fight, probably from fending off the other record setters around ‘his’ lunch. I’m yelling for everyone to come see, but I forgot I was alone deep in the woods. I pull the fish out of the water, a pickrel. I was definitely a new legend to these parts, just don’t let the word get out about my record setter.
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