Grouse Hollow Journal for April 4, 2013

Grouse Hollow Journal for April 4, 2013 by Greg Koelker

When I got home on Thursday last, I had fishing on the brain. The weather was decent and there were dozens of ice fishermen in the bays along Highway 35 and quite a few boats on the water at Genoa. After a brief howdy and discussion with management, Ellen and I decided to try the ice at Stoddard Bay.

Landings are a nightmare in the making for me. A fellow loading up his ice gear on the ramp said that he had a few fish, but it was slow. That was bad enough, but we had no sooner started out on the ice when I stepped into a slushy hole – I mean ten feet from shore. If I had been wearing rubber boots this would not be a problem – I wasn't so it was. So the fishing is already cold, and now my left foot is cold, and wet. Anyway, we headed west.

We came across a couple guys not far out. They had fish on the ice. One had maybe 8, but the other guy had probably 20. There were some decent perch and bluegills and even a couple crappies. They said they were from Richland Center and had been fishing since before noon. Anyway, we moved on, but I was mentally marking the spot.

Farther out, I started drilling down an old ice hole. With my Lazer auger, this is usually pretty easy and old holes are often not as deep as regular ice – which was maybe 20 inches thick yet. At the bottom of the hole, no matter what I did or tried, I could not punch my auger through that rock hard bottom ice. I tried a different hole with the same result. Duh. Anyway, I made an executive decision and we headed back toward the guys from Richland Center. They were packing up as it had gotten really slow. They had left a dozen holes to fish through.

I put my Fish Cam down one and set up Ellen by it to watch her bait on the TV monitor while hopefully some hungry panfish snatched it up or at least nibbled on it. I tried a hole a few feet away. My first fish was a decent bluegill. I dropped it on the ice and tried for another. Often it seems that they come in schools or pairs or gangs or whatever and it is best to get back down quickly. This guy must have been a loner, so I scooped it up and planted the seed of a fish fry in a plastic bag in the sled. Ellen started moving around from hole to hole too as no one wanted to be on TV. Anyway, the sun was out but fading and the wind had a bite. By the time we were both cold enough to say, “I s'pose . . . ,” we had put 9 fish in the bag.

We went back to the same spot on Good Friday. There were some fellows from Boscobel fishing there. Actually, they were there on a tip from Norm, who turned out to be one of the guys from Richland Center! We visited with a gregarious gentleman who said he worked summers in the Dells. He shared some strong opinions about our unintimidated leader in Madison and spear fishing up north. (I am hearing a lot of these type of complaints lately.) He was a friendly and interesting character to say the least.

Anyway, we moved out farther after a bit and set up on some open holes on the end of a line of fishermen. Ellen caught a perch right away and seeded the bag. I got a big bluegill and then another right behind it, but it was slow. There were two guys who had out a line of tip downs (poles on stands that tip down when a fish takes hold of the business end) and they appeared to have a half a bucket of fish. With 6 lines out I suppose you're bound to. We kept trying with our pole apiece.

One time, I was working a nibbler in a hole twenty feet from Ellen and she came over to have me remove a too-small perch and rebait her recently cleaned jig. I handed her my pole and and unhooked her fish, dropping it down my hole. As if by magic, presto, Ellen exclaimed, “Oh!” and set the hook. She eventually pulled a huge ring perch onto the ice. She was kind enough to say it was “our” fish; hmmm, I guess I did get to clean it. Anyway, we threw back a few smaller bluegills and bait-sized perch before we called it a day, some 46 fish shy of our limit.

On Easter Sunday, the river was in transition. We drove down along Highway 35. There were a few ice fishermen out at De Soto Bay and north of Prairie du Chien in the back waters, but the big ice at Ferryville was breaking up. By the time we came north, the river was nearly wide open all the way to Stoddard. I imagine the walleye fishermen had to move south to get away from the debris and ice at the dams. The tug boats have made it up to La Crosse as of last week. The ice on Lake Pepin may take a bit to open up so they say. If one is inclined to bird watch, the eagles and waterfowl are putting on quite a show along most any open water.

Until next time, get out – if you can, try and attend the DNR Spring Hearings and Wisconsin Conservation Congress County Meetings Monday, April 8, 2013, 7:00 p.m. at Viroqua High School.

Enjoy.