Hook the Lip

Bucket Pants

Jacob Knight — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 01:55:07 +0000

While fishing in Floyd’s Fork, in Taylorsville, Kentucky, I had a new experience. I really enjoy wading when I fish, and Floyd’s Fork has a great place for getting in. There had been a pretty decent amount of rain the week before and the creek was very muddy, flowing quick and a few feet above normal. The fishing was awful and walking upstream was like climbing a mountain of peanut butter. I fished a decent spot behind a fallen tree and caught a 12 inch smallmouth. To make the story move along, I will point out that I didn’t catch another fish all day. I had been spincasting all morning and decided that the fast, muddy water was just not cutting it. Since the fishing wasn’t great I decided to pick up my fly rod and just work on casting. After grabbing my rod, I turned and that’s when I found it, the drop off. Oh yeah, cold water filled my waders. My wallet and everything else in my waders that was meant to stay dry, didn’t. My tackle bag got a bunch of water in it and I didn’t stay in the creek long after that. I made a dozen or so casts and retired to the parking lot to dump about 4 gallons of water out of my waders. Now, I double check my footing when I can’t see the bottom very well and I suggest you do the same. Falling in was not very fun.

Kentucky Smallmouth Thief

Jacob Knight — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 03:05:39 +0000

Beep-beep-beep-beep. Yep, that’s the alarm and yep, it’s 4:30 a.m. With the summer temperature being just under 100 degrees, it was necessary to get up that early to beat the afternoon heat. Dan Jenkins, a buddy of mine, was completely down to join me and didn’t require much begging. I had told him about the spot I go to on the Elkhorn Creek in Frankfort, KY, to catch smallmouth bass. We waded into the creek just after first light and it was already pretty warm outside, but the coolness of the creek was key. Before climbing down into the creek, I rigged up my fly rod with a dark dry fly, cicada pattern. The water was really muddy following some pretty big rain a few days before and I need it would be tough with a dry fly.

After a little while fishing the downstream section of where we got in, I decided it just wasn’t right for the fly that day. We hopped out and I changed my rod and reel to my spinning gear. We went upstream to the section of the river where I usually catch the most fish. I tied on a green pumpkin creature bait and fished it in all different directions around structure. After not getting any bites on that, I decided to go to a crawfish crank-bait. Bingo. After a few casts, I finally had a really good size smallmouth on the line. The fish jumped up out of the water and darted downstream. I was able to get him turned around with my 4 lb. test line and bring him back to me. When he was close enough, I raised the rod tip, like an idiot, to grab him. This was, by far, the biggest smallmouth I have caught in the Elkhorn, over 16 inches and fat. Well, with the light line and my mistake of raising up on it, the fish shook the small hook and got off. After getting over the disappointment, I rummaged through my tackle bag and tied on another crawfish imitation crank-bait. After a couple casts in the same spot, I hooked another smallmouth. This fish immediately jumped and when it did, the line snapped. I am not sure when I am going to learn my lesson on using line that’s too light.

Following the loss of that lure, I tied on a Rooster Tail spinner bait that had a gold body with a black blade. I was able to land 6 decent size smallmouths that were facing upstream hanging out in front of weed beds. Dan wasn’t having much luck. He didn’t have anything similar to what I was using. I let him move into the spots where I was catching fish and it just wasn’t working for him.

Maybe twenty minutes after I lost the crank-bait, a smallmouth rose and jumped out of the water and there was a noise that sounded like someone shaking keys. I said to Dan, “I think that was my fish with my crank-bait.”

Ten minutes later, the same thing, a fish jumped in a spot 5 yards from the other spot. Same keys jingling sound. I swear that was the fish that I had hooked. I tried my hardest to cast to where that fish was to see if I could get him to hook up again. It didn’t work. I wanted to catch that fish for two reasons. The first, to get that crank-bait back that was obviously working. Secondly, just to spite that fish and prove to him that I am the superior species and he was dumb enough to chomp down on a piece of metal again. He sure showed me.

Lightning Strikes Twice

Jacob Knight — Sun, 25 Jul 2010 21:34:55 +0000

A few weeks ago, while fishing on Taylorsville Lake in Kentucky, we found some active largemouths. It was one of those trips where we didn’t wake up terribly early to get on the water at first light. The boat ramp was absolutely slammed, so I was dreading being rocked by wake all day. We started on a couple primary and secondary points, fishing worms and jigs to find the fish. We started getting a few bites here and there and finally I tied on a YUM Crawbug in a two-tone, yellow-orange and gray color. Most of the fish we were catching were in the 12-15 inch range, nothing big but still fun. On my first cast with the Crawbug, it was hammered as soon as it fell to the bottom. I was using a 4 lb. test line, which I do often, to keep it really interesting. As I went to set the hook, the line went perfectly straight and then slack. Never a good sign. I reeled in the line with no lure attached and of course, no fish. I talked about switching to my 6 lb. set-up to avoid getting robbed again, but changed my mind and tied on another Crawbug, in pumpkin with black flakes. After a few casts, I was able to hook and successfully land a 13 inch largemouth. I reached down from the boat to grab its lower lip, and discover that he was a very hungry fish. The Crawbug that I had just lost was in its mouth. I hooked the same fish twice. I have been fishing many times and caught back-to-back fish and joked that it was the same fish, but this was the honest truth. Since the first lure was just hung in the side of the fish’s mouth I got it back. We continued to fish a quarter mile of the same bank, catching fish for a couple hours and then when it started getting really hot we headed home. There were not any huge fish pulled out of the lake that day, but steady fishing is great anytime.

Women in Waders

Jacob Knight — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 00:04:26 +0000

What is better than a woman who likes to fish? A women that likes to fish and bears your last name. Now, my wife Liz is not die-hard. She does enjoy going fishing with me every once in a while. She will strap on waders, sit in a boat or on a bank for hours and catch whatever she can. My dad and I have taken Liz fishing with us a few times and she has out fished both of us and my dad loves it. The first time I took Liz fishing in a stream, after she got a pair of waders for Christmas, we got skunked. I pulled the trigger too early on my go-to smallmouth stream and the fish just weren’t there yet. She toughed it out for two and a half hours and almost got swept down stream near one riffle. We will be going back to that spot on the Elkhorn Creek. Liz’s favorite is fishing in the boat. The first time we took her on the boat she killed it and caught bigger and more fish than Dad and I. She was given tips on where to cast but not how to set the hook. It was really fun to watch and the first time I remember thinking it was fun to watch someone catch more fish than myself. I have to choose my trips carefully to make sure we keep catching fish and she continues to like going.

Why the Title?

Jacob Knight — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 23:57:27 +0000

The aftermath of my wife's back-cast.

To start off, let me explain why this blog carries the title it does. While fishing on Cedar Creek Lake in Kentucky, my wife hooked the biggest catch of her life. Me. Yep, you read that right. In her backcast, during a conversation with my dad, she hooked my upper lip with a treble hooked Rooster Tail. I was fly-fishing off the back of the boat when I felt the smack on my face and noticed the white feather hanging in my peripheral vision. Thank goodness she stopped her cast when she hooked me and didn’t pull it back forward, because that would have made a mess. My dad performed on the water surgery by pushing the two sides of the hook that were stuck, through my lip and cut the barbs off. I think it hurt him more than me. He was shaking and not focusing well for a second as he pinched my cheek with the pliers. He deserves some kind of honorary plastic surgeon’s degree, because there is barely a trace that it happened. It sounds worse than it ended up, the piercing looked professionally done and only kept me from shaving for about two weeks. Like I said, there was little pain, so we had a great laugh about it the rest of the day. An hour into the trip, there was no way I was coming off the water and it paid off.