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Non-Spring getting out early
Kurt Vonnegut, who has
in his novels reorganized many of the things we hold dear including time, politics, and
the molecular structure of water, once wrote that there are nine seasons in a year. If
Vonnegut were a smallmouth angler (he might be--he’s from Indiana) he would certainly
recognize the season of Non-Spring.
Non-spring is that season when spring is in the air, but not in the
water. The fish have had a taste--longer days, higher flows, warmer water--but aren’t
ready to shift decisively to their spawning pattern. This season can last a long time,
then change suddenly and leave us all wishing we had been a bit more aggressive.
The problem is that river smallmouth are indecisive and they live in an
indecisive environment. This indecision leads to sudden mood swings and widely varying
behaviors during seasons of shift when fish are hungry but cold. For those of us who chase
the smallmouth, these are the months of feast and drought. The thing we wait for most--the
early spawn--is one of the most volatile and unreliable of these periods.
When it comes time to spawn, the smallmouth’s flabby and less
sophisticated lake-bound brethren can rely on gradual temperature trends and stationary
water. The smallmouth have river level, light length, water clarity, temperature trends,
river bed changes, and the risk of sudden changes of any and all of these factors to
contend with. This makes them twitchy and trigger-happy when the urge is on. Furthermore,
in most systems the larger fish go first and quickest. That makes the anglers a bit
twitchy, too, since they have to try to hit the spawn at its earliest which may mean
famine and nasty weather, too.
That’s the bad news. The good news is that the pre-spawn--that
gluttonous gathering of gravid grumpy bass--tends to last a good long time. So the
intrepid angler who wants to deck a trophy bass has to have a sense of the transition at
this time of year, and has to work hard to try to hit the points in that transition
process.
In most rivers, smallmouth winter by size. The mid-sized fish--mostly
males, 10 to 15 inches in the systems I’m familiar with--will group up tightly in a
very particular type of water (or a lake, if they have one handy to settle back into.) We
look for a deep flat with chunk rock bottom and steady flow--protected but not slack
water. I believe this is because when dormant the fish need current to keep themselves
oriented and positioned in the river. Find a situation like that and you can enjoy
terrific cold-water action. We make regular pilgrimages to the Susquehanna in October and
November and fish certain spots and often catch 150 fish from a quarter-acre of water.
Larger fish have a greater tolerance for cold water and a greater need
to feed, but they have a lower tolerance for crowding so they become more solitary. When
you encounter a larger fish in the cold water, it has probably positioned itself to feed,
or at least set up in a place where forage is likely to present itself; when you find a
smaller fish, you have probably found a large number of smaller fish who are inactive but
opportunistic.
As the days lengthen in the spring, the fish take particular behaviors
by size. The smaller fish will stay in winter locations longest; the larger fish will take
a prespawn pattern first. This is when the very largest smallmouth are most accessible.
By the way, bets change when the water comes up. Wintering fish will
hold those winter positions--or shift to new ones--as long as they can. But in a sharp
rise the larger fish will make the usual move to completely protected areas so they can
pace the rising water up, staying in slack zones where they won’t have to expend
precious energy fighting current. In some rivers this is an island pattern; in our rivers
it tends to be more of a bank pattern.
If the water levels are manageable and it’s a clear prespawn
situation--either a late winter warm-up or the real thing, usually in March around
here--the angler has a decision to make. The winter-type spots will beckon, with their
dense concentrations of smaller fish; but a firm-hearted angler might devote the prime
midday time to an attempt to cross paths with a real pig. In Non-Spring I have a
three-step process to finding the biggest smallmouth. This process is easiest to execute
when the angler has a jetboat or other means of choosing spots at will regardless of the
point in the river; we run a float trip so we have to organize it differently.
The first step is to try spawn sites even if it seems very early. When
conditions allow, the largest smallies will set up on the spawning sites early--perhaps
when water is still in the 50’s. I’m not sure what they’re doing there but
I’ve taken some big fish that way. It’s a longshot but it needs eliminating.
Don’t confuse the smaller fish you might take there with signs of a spawn--often the
spawning sites will overlap with wintering areas (this is true in prime areas on our
float). Generally our fish will set up in 3-6 feet of water over gravelly water behind
rock ledges--and preferably with some woody cover around or overhead to shield them from
raptors, real or imagined.
My next location is woody cover on banks. These areas warm up first and
larger fish are often located on them. This is one of the few times you are likely to find
serious smallies around mud--both because it is darker, warmer, and slacker water, and
because some forage uses mud to hole up in the cold weather, and those critters have to
come out some time. Also, bank backwaters will warm and clear before main flows. Bigger
fish can often be found in these locations even before the “prime time” of
midafternoon, when temps spike highest. Fish in these situations are rarely feeding
heavily; they tend to be more opportunistic and might need more than one look at a lure
before they make up their mind.
Incidentally, anglers can fish any lure they like in these situations
as long as it is a dark jig-and-pig. Bright accents, rattles, scents, a variety of
materials and trailers--whatever lights your lamp--but make it a medium to large crayfish
imitation with a strong affinity for the bottom if you want to fool the big mamas.
My third location, and the place most likely to produce the serious
pre-spawn fish, is a dropoff. It can’t be just any dropoff--it should be a transition
point between safe deep protected water and crayfish-rich moderately deep moderately soft
water--a fairly rare structure. As early as they can in the spring, and as often as they
can in the winter, large bass will begin to visit these locations to forage for the
fat-rich crawdads that are going to replenish their winter-depleted reserves and then beef
them up for the ordeal of spawning. These fish will be finicky and twitchy. They
won’t tolerate a bunch of noise, so be cautious and patient and work your way into
each spot. Remember also that you have made a decision to fish patiently and slowly for a
small number of quality fish--stick to the plan.
In the early spring the locations aren’t obvious. First of all,
they tend to be more out in the current that you’d think, so some anglers park right
on top of the spot and cast into the slack water. This might move a fish or two, but it
misses a quality cast--unforgivable impatience. So work very gently and gradually in from
the main current over your spot, probing with lengthy casts and keeping your lure on the
bottom even in firmer flow than you might think.
Also, the water is often stained or even muddy in these situations.
Never fear. These fish are capable of locating prey in low-visibility situations, though
of course it may take longer for them to do so. In these conditions rattles or scents
might help. Add to the problem the slow, sluggish response of cold-blooded animals in cold
environments, and you see why many anglers describe the proper retrieve here as a
“crawl”.
It’s important to remember that you aren’t fishing for
“holding” fish in this situation; you’re trying to intersect with moving or
transitioning fish, which requires more patience. Most other times with smallmouth a
single cast to the ambush point, with perhaps a follow up to secondary points or with a
different retrieve, is all a spot warrants. But these are the biggest, cagiest fish in the
river, and, like we who pursue them, they are seldom as stupid as they are when they are
hungrily anticipating spring.
The main advice is always: go fishing. Energy spent is valuable, even
if it is just to prove me wrong. Remember to check river levels and acquire a good
thermometer before you hit the water--even a small variation in water temps will make a
big difference. Check the www gauges for you stretch to make sure things are in a safe and
fishable range. Take a deep breath and blow out that winter funk--you’ll be glad you
got out even if the only animal you encounter is a skunk.
Dave Motes
3/15/2000