"George Cleveland" wrote in message
...
Did a little scouting today. I think I've found the next smallie Clave
campground. I just have to get a hold of the powers-that-be and see if
we can work something out.

The grounds are neat and trim. They're also situated on the banks of a
river we'll call Yiminy, for now. After doing a little tour of the
sites I climbed down the steep bank, tied on a Deerhair Diver and cast
out near a boulder, mid-river. The third cast, placed right against
the face of the rock, brought a small boil and then a hard fast run.
After a couple of minutes this fine lass lay in my hand.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2..._0046Small.jpg

I'm guessing two to three pounds.

I continued fishing downstream for about 45 minutes. It is a gorgeous
northern river that runs through heavily forested, lightly farmed
countryside.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2..._0043Small.jpg

I fished around the large rocks that studded a small rapids. Then I
turned and started back up.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2..._0049Small.jpg

I wanted to investigate the old dam site that the campground is named
after. I was catching fish on a regular basis. All on top. None as big
as the first although I did tie into a 15 incher that was a lot of
fun.

By the time I fished my way up to the pool below the old logging dam's
remains it was quite dark. I kept casting but the fish had shut down.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v2..._0053Small.jpg

Crossing the river I followed the only fisherman's trail I came across
all day, back towards the parking lot. Probably walleye fishers
casting into the big pool had worn it down.

As I approached the side trail that went up towards the campground I
heard a high pitched sound a long way off. Kids? Dogs? Then the answer
came, maybe a hundred yards across the river from me.

http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v2...=jumpwolf2.flv

I listened until they quit. The microphone on the camera picked up the
middle registered howling best but there were also several higher
pitched howlers, probably pups, which didn't record at all, and a
lower pitched, softer howl that is only barely audible a few times.

If I had been with someone else I probably would have tried to howl
back after they finished. Supposedly you can get them to respond by
doing that. But as it was, I snapped on the LED headlamp and, looking
a bit more anxious I imagine than was justified, scuttled back to the
Subaru, jumped in, locked the doors and drove home.

I'm not a big fan of summer. But yesterday, with its fresh, north wind
and reasonable temps and humidity, was as good as it gets. And now
those wolves' howling will impress the day indelibly in my mind. I'll
carry the whole thing... bright summer day, big brassy fish, haunting
voices drifting through the dark trees... with me until the time
comes when I can remember nothing at all.

Experiences like this overwhelm me with a sense of gratitude.


g.c.

I remember going on a two hour search to find the pack of cub scouts that
was making all the noise...it was wolves.

anyhow George...I'm most definitely in for that trip. I would propose a
motion to make it in the fall when the days are warm and the nights are
cool....them smallies go on a feeding binge in preparation for winter..

Heck, I'll even do the t-shirts.... something like "Guys with Smallies"

john