Wednesday, April 24, 2024

Anglin with Anglen

| August 20, 2020 1:00 AM

Sept. 5, 1974

A bit of nip in the air this morning when I got up, a promise of things to come no doubt. I had two good trips into Dawson lake trying to get fish for the Fair. I hit the lake just at daylight the first day and started fishing along the weed beds as I usually do. After fifty yards I was beginning to wonder what had happened to the fish, and after about a hundred and fifty yards I knew they were not along the weed beds.

As there was a lot of action in the middle of the lake, I started trolling out there with my doll fly and carey special. I didn’t have to go far before I had one, and from then on I had a ball. I would leave the lure in the water after one bit until I had two on, then land them both.

I chased them until about seven then brought them to town, dumped them in the fish pond at the fair and took off for Robinson lake. I wanted to get some of those big sunfish as they are quiet beautiful. I really got skunked there, didn’t catch a one and never even saw one. I did pick up four bass though and put them in the pond.

I was out at Dawson again Wednesday morning and did pretty good trolling my flies again, but after about an hour, we got about a five degree drop in temperature and they quiet hitting.

I kept digging around and finally spotted some top water action in the south end of the lake. When I got up there you never saw anything like it; this school of croppie had a bunch of small fish cornered and they were sure going to work on them. For about twenty minutes, I caught two at a time every time I throwed out and lots of times I would hook one of them as I let the line dangle over the end of the boat while I put the fish in a sack.

I also took these fish to the fair and found we had lost a lot of the ones I had put in there the day before.

I was down Friday and all the fish had died but two or three. Of all the years the fish pond has been in there, this year and last year was the only time we had this happen.

Friday morning I was back on Robison typing to catch some of those big trout. Didn’t even get a strike from trout, but did manage to pick up nine bass. An osprey had a hold of the biggest one, and I guess he was just too big to lift. He was tore up pretty bad on both sides but was still feeding, so I turned him loose and just hoped he makes it.

Scuttlebutt has it the river is real good fishing now. It is finally getting the fishing pressure it should have had all along. The kokanee were still biting as good last Tuesday from the reports I heard. I heard a few shots this morning as I went for my morning stroll, so I guess some dove hunters were out getting their guns broken in. That is all I ever done dove hunting was just get some shotgun practice. I believe they were made just for the ammunition makers.

• • •

Editor’s note: For 27 years, beginning Feb. 8, 1973, Ralph Anglen of Bonners Ferry wrote an outdoor column for the local paper that was widely read and used as a source of fishing and hunting information. It was called “Anglin’ with Anglen,” and was the real deal, the genuine item, written by someone whose socks were wet, whose toes were cold and who pulled no punches. We will continue as space allows to reprint Anglen’s column solely for its pleasure and historical significance. Any typos, we leave as is. Readers are reminded that this column was written almost 50 years ago and conditions, including state fish and game regulations, have changed.