SUMMER’S MADE FOR SPINYRAYS

No doubt the Northwest is a bastion for salmon, steelhead and sturgeon, but there are spinyrays to be caught as well. This monster 15-plus-inch, 2.36-pound black crappie was caught last summer by Brad Hole at a lake in the greater Tacoma area. “I swore I had a bass

on the line,” he said. (FISHING PHOTO CONTEST)

Plenty of fast action to be had on the Northwest’s crappie, bluegill, perch and other panfish.

By MD Johnson

By the time you folks read this, I will have turned 57. Not old, I reckon, but certainly older than I was 30 years ago. Makes mathematical sense, eh?

So anyway, as I’m now older, I seem to forget things more frequently. Not the really, really important things, like where I live, who I am, and pants – always wear pants, Grandma said – but, well, I guess you could say the littler things. Where I left my keys and wallet are standards. Found my seeing glasses in the refrigerator here a while back after looking for quite some time. Writing damn near everything down so I don’t forget. Do this. Go here. Meeting on Tuesday at blah, blah, blah. Well, y’all get it, I’m sure.

But I forget other things, too; things having to do with the Great Outdoors, and which go in both directions across the nation. That is from Washington where I live now to the Midwest – Ohio and Iowa – where I spent 46 of my now 57 years. How so, you ask? Take for instance the picture of two white sturgeon my

wife, Julie, and I caught. Sent it to a friend in Iowa expecting a “Wow!” and instead got a “What are those damn things? Sharks?” Kinda, yeah, they’re sharks. I send pictures of black brant from Willapa Bay back East, and in return get questions. What are those? How do you hunt them? Good to eat? How many decoys? And more. Conversely, I’m sure I’m guilty of more than one Midwestern-ism with folks out here when it comes to speaking on the outdoors. Rather, I will from time to time forget that maybe, just maybe, the folks to whom I’m speaking aren’t well schooled, if schooled a’tall, in the practices about which I’m talking. Maybe they don’t know turkeys. Or suburban whitetails. Or sora rails and Wilson snipe. Or the fact that grey squirrels are early risers, while fox squirrels are partial to sleeping in, especially if it’s cold out.

Which – and finally – brings me to my point: spinyrays. Honestly? I can’t hardly bring myself to call them spinyrays. It sounds … well, to me it sounds degrading. Like calling snow geese sky carp. Or squirrels limb rats. Disrespectful, I reckon. Descriptive? I’ll give you that. And, given it’s the Pacific Northwest, the phrase does differentiate this particular freshwater clan from the better-known glamour species, the salmon and steelhead. The trout, kokanee and sturgeon.

But the reason behind my soapbox here is this. Several times over the past six years, I’ve written about these socalled spinyrays – walleye, largemouth, smallmouth, crappie, bluegills, yellow perch, and others – with an emphasis on where, as in where to go. Yet what I might be forgetting – and there’s that word again – is that not everyone, no matter how well-versed in the ways of anadromous fish, might not know how to go about catching a crappie. Or a bluegill. Or a rock bass. And I mean purposely catching these fish; not tossing a Mepps for a planter trout and lucking into a hand-sized bluegill. I’m OK with luck, but that’s not what we’re talking about here.

So, and with all that behind us, this month, let’s take a look at the gear and tactics used to target these Pacific Northwest spinyrays. And yes, with a little bit of where-to thrown in for good measure.

CRAPPIE ARE THE most popular panfish in the U.S. They’re found from East to West, with some of the best fishing being south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Texas. Mississippi. Alabama. They all grow big crappies. California does, too. And Eastern Oregon. And Washington, especially in some of the warmer lakes east of the Cascades.

Two subspecies exist – the darker mottled black crappie, and the lighter more pale white crappie. A good crappie measures from, say, 9 to 12

Jigs might be the common denominator when it comes to catching crappie, bluegill, yellow perch and other panfish, often paired with minnow-imitating tubes or twist-tail grubs. And while scented artificial offerings will hold up better, good old worms – whether fat store-bought ’crawlers or slimmer garden hackle – work well

Where salmon rigs can be super complex, sometimes all it takes is a worm and a size 6 baitholder hook to coax a bluegill into a bite. That’s what Austin Han used on Potholes Reservoir late last summer. (FISHING PHOTO CONTEST)

inches. A 14-inch speck, as they’re sometimes called, is a dandy. My grandfather had a 19.5-inch black crappie on the wall. That’s just obscene. But there are bigger; I’ve just not personally caught one bigger.

The best part? Any size, and they’re incredible to eat.

Live minnows are by far the best crappie bait, hands down. The bad news is live minnows aren’t allowed out West for the most part. So we improvise using a variety of jigs, small spinners, twist-tail grubs and little crankbaits. The frontrunner? Jigs. Feathery marabou jigs. Leadheads with tiny grubs. Tube jigs. Think minnow, and match the jig profile.

Color can be awfully important, with standards being chartreuse, yellow, white, red, red/white and, in some situations, black. Weight, too, with the lightest of light – 1/16,

1/32, and 1/64 ounce – all getting the nod.

I prefer to fish these tiny baits on a tightline. Cast, sink, retrieve. Find the depth, and you’ve found the fish, as crappies, even big crappies, tend to travel in school of similarly sized brethren. Bobbers work too and can help those who haven’t yet developed the tightline “touch.” But keep the floats small and sensitive, as crappies can be notoriously light biters.

As for tackle, again, a light or, better yet, ultralight spinning outfit and 2-pound-test monofilament. Heavy isn’t necessary, and in fact can spoil the action of a 1/32-ounce jig that otherwise would have worked tremendously. And finally, structure. Crappies love structure. Standing timber. Bridge abutments. Docks. Oh, but how they love docks.

Where: In Western Washington, I’d head to Lake Washington or Cowlitz County’s Silver Lake. Eastside, and it would be Bonnie Lake near Spokane or Potholes Reservoir. Oregon, and I’d head to a personal bucket list fishery, Brownlee Reservoir. The destination in Idaho would be CJ Strike Reservoir near Grandview; California, and my truck would be pointed at Clear Lake.

TO CATCH BLUEGILLS – and I mean really catch some beautiful fine-eating ’gills – plan a trip to northwest Tennessee’s Reelfoot Lake ’round about the first week of May. Cane poles. Live crickets. Light floats. And Billy Blakely, a lifelong local who knows more about catching bluegills than Carter does about Little Liver Pills. Sorry, lost most of you there. Let’s just say Blakely knows a lot about ’gills.

But there are some decent places to catch bluegills in the Northwest, and we’ll get to that in a minute. In addition, there are shellcrackers/redears, pumpkinseeds, green sunfish, and hybrids of all four, to catch.

Many of the same lures and jigs used for crappie are perfect for bluegills, but we’ll add worms to the mix here. Not those big honkin’ ’crawlers, but the feisty little redworms you find in your compost pile. You do have a compost pile, right?

Waxworms, mealworms, crickets, grasshoppers – all will also work great threaded on a long shank light wire Aberdeen-style No. 6 hook and hung under an über-sensitive Thill quill float. Or Snoopy bobber. And that’s one of the nice things about bluegills and their kin. They’re often not real

fussy about the gear one uses to capture them.

Speaking of ’gill gear, if you want a really fun experience, take a 4-weight fly rod with a selection of nymphs, dry and wet flies, and surface poppers, and give that a go. It’s a hoot, and works well on lakes with an abundance of emergent vegetation. Spinning tackle more your speed? Go with ultralight gear, something like Shakespeare’s Micro Series, or a 5-foot Ugly Stik Elite Combo and 1-pound, maybe 2-pound test. But probably 1.

Oh, and Beetle Spins from Johnson/Pure Fishing, as well as very, very small spinnerbaits similar to those made popular by the bass fishing

Kiran Walgamott, the editor’s son, shows off a pair of nice-sized Lake Washington yellow perch caught last September. Idaho’s Lake Cascade is the hot spot for jumbos, and similar to Midwesterners hitting the Columbia for trophy walleye, one Wisconsinite caught a new state record 3-pounder there this past winter. (ANDY WALGAMOTT)

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crowd, only tiny. Bass Pro/Cabela’s and Strike King, both, offer a 1/16-ounce spinnerbait perfect for big ’gills.

Where: Again, Lake Washington gets a nod on the Westside, as does Fazon Lake above Bellingham. Over in Eastern Washington, Moses, Potholes or Soda Lakes would do you well, as would Rowland or Horsethief Lakes down in the Columbia Gorge’s Klickitat County. Brownlee on the Oregon/ Idaho line comes to mind again; so too does Halverson Lake south of Melba just off the Snake. Friend of mine told me about that last one. And in California, it’s a bluegill/crappie one-two at Clear Lake, especially during the spring.

THIS WINTER, MARK my words, I’m

going to go to Idaho’s Lake Cascade and catch huge yellow perch through the ice. Why Cascade? Some time ago, I wrote about the Gem State’s record perch, an enormous fish caught in 2016 by Sky Coulter that weighed – ready? – an astonishing 2.96 pounds. Well, it seems that record has been broken; nay, it has been beaten down and kicked under the carpet, thanks to Andy Mann and his 3.22-pound yellow behemoth measuring an unheard-of 16.25 inches. Mann, by the way, is from Wisconsin, and made the 1,700-mile one-way trip in March specifically to fish for trophy perch. Now that’s dedication. Hell, it’s not even a third as far from my home base on the Lower Columbia.

But you don’t have endure bitter cold to catch nice yellow perch, which, IMHO, are one of the best eating freshwater fish to swim the planet, right up there with walleye, bluegill, crappie and sturgeon. Summer, too, can be a great time to fill a bucket with yellows.

Broken record alert, but it’s ultralight to light tackle, 2-pound-test mono, and a selection of artificials, with jigs and soft plastics leading the pack. Danny Garrett, a warmwater fisheries biologist with the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife and avid tournament bass fisherman, is a huge fan of drop-shotting Senkos and other small plastic worm imitations for perch in Lake Washington. Any number of Berkley Gulp! or PowerBait patterns, e.g. angle worms, minnows, leeches, shad, pinched ’crawlers, Hollow Belly, and others, will work well for perch, either under a bobber, tightlined, or, as Garrett does, fished as a drop-shot rig.

Live bait, too, accounts for its share of yellow perch. Minnows, the very best, are out; however, ’crawler sections, redworms, mealworms and waxworms work well. So, too, do some “novel” live/dead baits, such as perch eyeballs, strips of perch meat cut from the belly of a previously harvested fish, old-school pork rind and – ready? – small hunks of bacon fat. I wouldn’t be opposed to trying

With spinyrays, the rewards are two-fold: the often good fishing that can keep kiddos and adults alike happy and smiling, and when breaded and fried, their fillets are tasty! (ANDY WALGAMOTT)

pieces of smelt or anchovy on what the YouTube heroes call a “fish finder rig,” consisting of a 1/2-ounce sinker under two short droppers armed with size 6 Aberdeen hooks, one at 12 inches and the other at 18. In fact, I’m sure it would catch fish.

Where: Don’t have to mention Idaho’s Lake Cascade again. A young friend of mine was going to lineman school in Meridian during the winter of ’20, and some classmates of his took him to Cascade to fish through the ice. “The beer never got warm,” he said with a grin. “And the perch fishing was incredible.” I say, count me in! Lake Washington gets the green light, along with Sammamish, Moses, Potholes and Curlew. Oregon’s Brownlee can produce, while on the Westside, Tenmile and Henry Hagg are good bets. Northern California’s Iron Gate Reservoir, just south of the Oregon border east of I-5, has a reputation as exceptional perch water, as does Copco Reservoir to the east. NS

The ‘Gauntlet Of Bad Casts’

Learning to bobber fish has a distinct and steep curve, but one that is easy to conquer. But to CHEF IN conquer the curve, THE WILD every new fisherman By Randy King must run the Gauntlet of Bad Casts. What are these bad casts? Well, I am glad you asked!

But first a little backstory … THE WEE LASS was casting her pole much better now. A smooth “blooop” would sound off as she tossed her bobber out into the lake. She had found a school of bluegill and was catching them left and right. I could hear a squeal each time the bobber would disappear under the water.

Her dad, a buddy of mine from work, was beaming. Neither he nor his children had ever caught a fish up until then. Heck, they had never even been fishing.

This adventure was not smooth sailing from the start, however. Teaching someone to cast a fishing pole is remarkably complicated. To me, not having any sort of idea what to do with a pole is a baffling concept. I do not remember the first fish I ever caught – the memories fade into one big blur of outdoor activities – but casting a spinning reel is like breathing to me. More and more I realize what a different upbringing I had from most everyone else.

When we had arrived at the lake, I commenced a quick lesson with the group. I walked them through “bobber fishing 101.” We talked about casting, where to cast, when to set the hook and how to reel in a fish. It was a solid lecture on fishing, if I don’t say so myself.

On my demo cast I actually managed to hook a bluegill. The group seemed impressed. My lesson seemingly had no determinable effect on the actual fishing, however. As with most of life, the difference between someone telling you, showing you and letting you do something is huge. No matter how many times I demonstrated

In short order, casting a fishing rod becomes old hat, but when you’re first starting out, it can lead to all sorts of wayward tosses, some of which even land in the water where the fish live. (RANDY KING)

COLUMN HAVE YOUR FISH AND EAT IT TOO

It is an uncertainty just how long fishcakes have been around. The first known recipe comes from the 19th century. I’d assume they have been around much longer than that, but recipes from much before then are few and far between.

That said, fishcakes are a simple and easy way to make the most out of small panfish. Bluegill are a great example of the usefulness of fishcakes. After you fillet, bone and skin a bluegill you have about ½ to 1 ounce of meat per side – and that can be off a nice-sized panfish too! In recent years I have begun to make the most of my panfish by roasting them whole and picking the bones out.

What is left is quality white meat that can be used in several different applications. It can be the starting point for a chowder, a nice “tuna” salad and even fishcakes, which is why we’re here today. The flaky white and mild taste is perfect for a warm summer evening.

Picked Fish

8 decent-sized bluegills 1 lemon

Cut off the head and gut the bluegill, then rinse clean the chest cavity. Turn the oven onto broil. Line two baking pans with tinfoil and spray them with pan spray. Next add the fish in a single layer. Zest the lemon and reserve the zest. Slice the lemon into three sections. Place on tray with fish.

Broil the fish for 10-ish minutes, or until all the fish are completely cooked. The skin facing the top of the oven will be nearly black. This is OK, as the skin protects the meat from too much heat.

Remove fish from oven when cooked. Let cool until you are able to touch them, then remove the top layer of skin and pick the meat into a medium-sized bowl. When the top layer is complete, grab the fish by the backbone and pull. This should allow one whole boneless fillet to remain on the tinfoil below. Pick that meat and add to the bowl. All told, you need about ½ pound of cooked fish for this recipe. Reserve the broiled lemon for garnish.

Cooked picked fish sits in a bowl with dill and other ingredients prior to being formed into fishcakes for frying. (RANDY KING) Fishcakes with broiled lemon garnish and mustard for dipping. (RANDY KING)

Fishcakes

½ pound cooked fish ½ cup smashed Ritz Crackers (make them look like breadcrumbs) 2 tablespoons yellow mustard 2 tablespoons fresh chopped dill (or 1 tablespoon dried dill) 1 egg 1 tablespoon garlic powder Salt and pepper 2 tablespoons of canola oil

In the same bowl as the picked fish from above, add the crackers, dill, mustard, garlic powder and egg. Incorporate fully. It should have a ground meat texture. Cool the bowl in the fridge for half an hour. (The hot fish allows the egg to cook slightly and become a binding agent for the fish; it also allows the flavors to meld together well.)

When cool, patty the mix into eight fishcakes. Press them about ¾ inch thick. Fry in the canola oil on medium heat, two at a time, until one side is golden brown. Serve with the broiled lemon slice as garnish.

For more wild game recipes, see chefrandyking.com. –RK

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casting or lectured about it, it never really mattered. To learn to fish, you must fish.

I ASSIGNED MY two younger boys to help the father and other sons with fishing and casting. This left me with the wee lass. Her first cast, and second, started the Gauntlet of Bad Casts.

The first cast is known as the “doublehanded water slap’r.” This is a smooth, fluid action followed by a “crack” as the bobber and line hit the water at the end of the kid’s feet. “Remember,” I said, “hold the line, open the bail … then cast. Do you need a new worm?”

The next cast I witnessed was of the “Mission to Mars” variety. True, it’s a powerful cast – directly over her head, in this case, and basically straight into the sky – but usually lands about 5 feet away from the caster. Sometimes it’s to the left, sometimes behind. Its orbit is as unpredictable as a Chinese rocket reentering Earth’s atmosphere. “Remember to point the end of the pole at the location you want to hit, cool?”

Then came the “bungled line cast.” Somehow, some way, she (like all new fishermen I have ever witnessed) messed up and got line tangled in the reel. Then it got wrapped around the handle of the reel, her hand and snagged on some bush. Before I knew it she got out a pocket knife and – oh god, my poles! No stitches today!

A lot of effort goes into “the pole toss.” Equal amounts of energy need to be applied to holding the pole and casting it. Thankfully, this lesson is generally easy to fix with a little bit of wading into the lake.

“The tree ringer” – the perfect tree tangle – is just unavoidable. I tell them not to cast that way, but they cast that way. I liken it to trying to herd a cat.

“The settled-in cast” is my favorite of them all. This cast shows that the lesson, trial and error, and effort have paid off. Breathe a sigh of relief. While it might be a pain in the butt to take a new person fishing, watching them successfully cast a bobber – then catch a fish – makes it all worthwhile.

AT THE END of the day the gauntlet had been run. The wee lass kept eight bluegill .

When my buddy asked me what to make with them, I gave him instructions much like those on the previous page. NS

Cracking Open New Taste Buds

For me, the thrill that is fishing very much has to do with the bite; By Sara Ichtertz FOR THE LOVE OF THE TUG better yet, feeling the bite. When those wild creatures beneath the water reach out and choose me, it is pretty much the best of the best in things that bring me pleasure in life!

Yet as my devoted readers know, I wasn’t the fondest of fish flavors when I first started dragging fish out of the river eight runs ago. Yes, I was beyond proud to provide a fresh, protein-packed dinner, though it did not taste good to me. My own mind would flash back to gagging-filled seafood memories as a child, and so I’d only take a bite and call it good on my harvest.

From day one, however, my babes always ate and ate the fish, loving it regardless of my fear of eating it. I absolutely loved that Nate and Ava ate it like they did as it somewhat justified the thrill I felt within the catch, which was pretty much addictive! THINKING BACK TO the first time I actually loved the bountiful seafood in front of me, it was about five years ago. All it took was a couple-few beers and somehow I managed to muster up the courage and get crazy enough to try a crustacean. The smell of them boiling was always too much for me, so I had always steered clear of crabs if they ever came my way.

I am not going to lie: Before I ever tasted Dungeness crab I had very little desire to hunt for them. There was no adrenalinepacked action to be found in hunting for these rather grouchy-looking creatures, so why should I bother? But after my buzz-

Ava Ichtertz admires a Dungeness caught off an Oregon Coast dock. Summer marks the start of the most productive time to catch crabs here and while Ava’s mom Sara once had no interest in crabbing, she now loves it and eating them and can be found working inside and outside the bays in search of dinner.

A tiny young Dungie sits atop the bottom of an older male’s shell. Crabbing lacks the feel of the bite that Sara so loves with steelhead, but it makes up for that in how good the meat tastes to her. (SARA ICHTERTZ)

filled night, I had a different perspective on crab and it honestly opened up my palate to fish in a way that I 100 percent needed. I instantly realized how much I liked cracking fresh crab and dipping it into clarified butter infused with fresh garlic. It was amazing; these creatures went from gag me to gourmet in one single night.

I loved the way the crab tasted and was amazed how I could remove these perfect pieces of meat from such a skeleton. It was wild and fun to me. To this day, cracking them is still more fun than the hunting itself, but the balance of it all has its worth.

AFTER THAT NIGHT, whenever I headed to the coast I started making time to crab off the docks. Even though I haven’t had the most bountiful of harvests, we’ve always had fun and always walked away with at least one delicious meal. The joy the babes feel when pulling our pots in the wonder of it all is pretty cute too. And no matter where it might be – from a boat or the dock – we have had many a good time that led to dinners of deliciousness.

“It was amazing; these creatures went from gag me to gourmet in one single night,” writes the author. (SARA ICHTERTZ)

Providing for my family is something I have always desired to do, so I will embrace the pots and that freshest of fresh found during Oregon’s Dungeness crab season. We are allowed 12 keeper-sized (5¾-inch carapace width) males each. If you have checked the price of just one crab in the supermarket – not to mention, those aren’t the freshest of fresh – you will do yourself a favor finding a little time to hunt for the grumpy critters of the ocean floor.

Once the commercial crabbers are not hard after them beyond the bar, I find crabbing season for the sport fisherman to be by far the most productive. I’m not sure what produced that incredible Dungeness season last year in Southern Oregon, but I felt beyond thankful the stars aligned for us to reap the benefits. No, it wasn’t in a summer steelhead shakes kind of way, more like “let’s cook these babies in as many scrumptious ways as we can in the next couple days.” I am not fond of frozen fish. I love it fresh and I find joy in sharing perfectly prepped and cooked bags of crab with those I love most.

I have enjoyed days spent pulling hefty pots over the bar while watching families of whales migrate past. The waiting game of crabbing isn’t for me, so it’s pretty rad being able to troll for salmon and watch the pods in a close-up, nerve-racking way, forgetting we are even hunting crabs. Never have I been so close to the whales, and to see so many thriving families gives me hope and was priceless for us to share as a family.

I have pulled hefty pots from inside of the bay as well – so hefty, in fact, I was throwing back incredible keepers even with four limits to harvest. It was unreal how thick the crab were despite the dozens of pots inside the bay.

THERE ARE MEALS in life that mean so much more and taste a whole lot better when love is put into them. When you put down your electronics and pursue something as a team, as a family, you become a better person. Not only in the hunt itself but the cleaning, cooking and creating of your harvest. Share that harvest, share your time, because you never really know how much time you have left. Things in life might be rapidly developing one new app at a time, or in the fastest 4G available, but truly it’s up to us what we buy into.

Who and what we give our time to is so important. My children deserve a life that is full of memories, not snaps or updates. Real memories, ones that need no device, only a heart to store them in. I am thankful in realizing that when you embrace nature and the sport of fishing together you are winning. Not only are you providing the freshest of meat for your family, you are creating memories that will last a lifetime. My heart is on the river and I couldn’t change it, even if I tried. NS