On my way to work Monday, I got lost and ended up at some big lake up by Garden City, UT. I picked up a hitch-hiker there who called himself Bear Lake Mack, and he said I could just fish there, and he’d show me where to go. After launching and leaving the marina, he said “Go that way.” Then, he said, “stop right about here.” When I did, the sonar lit up like a Christmas tree with fish arches, and the rest just seemed like home. We fished and got refused, ignored, and sometimes bit, We missed hits, lost fish, hung-up lures, and even caught some. Just like home, only it wasn’t. No wind, few other boats, and no snaggers in sight.
When I finally got home that night, I had a message that a couple guys wanted to go fishing on the windy lake near where I live, and they wanted to fish for “the big ones.” Yeah right. I told them to meet me at the dock this morning, which they did, and we went out to the secret spawning bay to go after “the big ones.” The stars lined up, the barometer was just right, the lunar force was positive, and they landed 26 and 38 pounders this morning.
Thanks for the report. I guess I caught you on candid camera last sat up at the gorge… We didn’t realize it was you otherwise we would have motored over to say hi. Thanks for the wisdom and the reports!
Nice fish Jim, I knew it was you, just kept my distance. There aren’t too many people that are content with running the boat while others have the pleasure of hooking up in deep water, you’ve definitely got the knack. Some day I’ll grow up to catch big macks. See you on the pond.
Man oh man, Bear Lake is my all-time favorite lake…nothing beats the color of that water! Beautiful fish!
(Now if I could get a boat and catch a trout out of there, my enjoyment would grow 10-fold! lol)
C’mon Ice!
I was at the Marina last Sunday, trying my luck tossing spinners for one of those bruisers. No luck whatsoever. I did see some carp swimming around and even better, I saw some dead carp on the bank (rocks).
First time. BLM put us right on 'em. Had they been in a little better “mood”, I think we’d have slayed 'em. They were pretty flat down there. Not many looks at the jigs, and not much reaction to them. I kept telling Rich, “when they look like this on the Gorge, they’re uncatchable.” But we prevailed with lots of persistence and a few Advil.