Few things are more exciting about spring than the thought of a new fishing season.
Over the years it鈥檚 always been a sort of pilgrimage to be out tossing a lure opening day, but now with an opening day determined by the date (May 4 in the southern region), getting away is not always so easy. This year with a Monday opening, getting time off to fish simply was not an option. I suspect my situation was not unique, which begs the question why not make opening day the first Saturday in May each year, allowing more people to get out and pursue their passion opening day?
But, alas opening day was not an option this year. It was actually two days later when I clocked out midafternoon, well took a couple of hours I鈥檇 make up later, and headed out with my son to see what we might find.
The first stop for us has traditionally been the Canora Dam. The rushing water of spring provides some rare white water rapids that are a challenge to fish as lures are forced to the shore and its usual multitude of submerged branches and shore grass, but boy is it fun when you hook even a small pike in such water.
However, wildly roaring water was not an expectation this spring. Our winter was rather benign in terms of snow, and the arrival of spring was one that took seemingly forever, so the thaw was slow and steady. Water run-off was limited, and frankly in places I suspect most soaked in as opposed to making it to a river to run. The water at the dam was moving, but was not extremely wild, nor high.
We threw hooks of course, managing to achieve absolutely nothing 鈥� I refuse to count the inch and a half long minnow my son hooked, even if he contends it was the first fish of the season.
I will digress here a moment to step away from fishing to talk about a couple of pet peeves.
First, as I sat dealing with a half hitch left over from last fall, testament to me 小蓝视频 admittedly ill-prepared for the season, up drives a vehicle and a fisherman tumbles out, walks to the water鈥檚 edge and starts casting in the spot my son鈥檚 gear was at, while he was working on a hook.
While this year that is especially frustrating because we should be social distancing in the face if COVID-19, it is always impolite to crowd in on another fisherman. We all need room to cast, and that means 小蓝视频 polite and pacing off six, eight, 10-feet so everyone can enjoy the fishing.
Next peeve was the garbage strewn at the site. Seriously there was a garbage can provided less than10-feet from the garbage. Really people, you can鈥檛 carry your refuse two or three large steps to use the garbage can? It鈥檚 not good for nature to toss your garbage. It鈥檚 not good for the reputation of the pastime. If you have garbage use the receptacles provided, or take it home and dispose of it there.
I now return the tale of opening day fishing.
My theory is that low water means fish struggle to move down river to the dam because of beaver dams, or maybe they simply weren鈥檛 in the mood to munch an artificial lures, but the end result was Canora Dam was a bust.
To my surprise my son suggested Stoney Lake south of Margo. While there is a huge expanse of shoreline to fish there, and yours truly almost always catches there, he does not fare so well. There are bodies of water that curse every fisherman, I know Melville Reservoir fish take a high level of satisfaction not so much as nibbling on anything I offer up as an example. Stoney is such a lake for my son.
Still, we headed west.
The lake is still largely covered with ice, but it had receded from the shoreline far enough to allow casting without fear of landing on the ice.
We pulled out lawn chairs, hunkered down to enjoy the spring sun鈥檚 warmth, and offer up a few Len Thompson spoons and rubber worms.
There were last year鈥檚 weeds to deal with, and an almost total lack of interest by fish, as they skunked my son yet again, and I fared only slightly better, although the pike was a reasonable size. It did a nice job of making a meal the following day, and coming out of months of cold water was tasty. Its size meant bones weren鈥檛 an issue either.
In the end it was not a first day of fishing that will go down in my personal record books, if I kept such a thing, but it doesn鈥檛 need to be 鈥榯he best-ever鈥� to be appreciated. The thing about a day fishing it is never truly measured in the number of fish caught, but rather the escape from the day-to-day grind with family or friends, and given COVID-19, just some time talking sports and TV, board games and fishing with my son, made it a great outing indeed.
