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Archive for April 8th, 2016


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Pulling into Colorado Bend State Park, the expectations were running high indeed. With the drought of the last few years, the flows where the Colorado River flowed into Lake Buchanan had essentially become non existent, physically cutting off the white bass from their natural inclination to head upstream and spawn. Fortunately with all the recent rains of the last six months, much of Texas is seeing life move back into areas that they once called home. Chief among these are the white bass and the fisherman that chase them, both once again calling Colorado Bend SP home.

If you’ve never fished for white bass before, it can be summed up rather succinctly by stating that “It’s all or nothing.” Traveling in schools as they do, if you’re fortunate enough to find one, you’ll probably find many more. Because of this, one persons skunk on a particular stretch of water one day can easily be someones double digit bonanza just 24 hours later.

While there are many spots around central Texas to wade in hopes of finding some of these white magic bullets, Colorado Bend State Park is one of the classics. However the drought of the last few years has kept the flows from being enough to facilitate the bass making it from the lake up into the river. Fortunately, this year the rains have been kind and the white bass are once again moving up the Colorado again which meant it was time to cash in some favors and spend some time alone with just water, fish, a rod and myself.

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The first sign of abundance happened as soon as i pulled into my campsite and placed a few random items on the pot marked and weathered picnic table. The wind whipped into a furry and instantly sent a stove, a sleeping bag, two boxes of flies, and various other items over the edge of the table and scattered them on the ground as though it wanted to play a round of Pick-Up Stix. I’m not sure why, but i just chuckled and laughed at the chaos, possibly because i was on the beginning side of three full days of fishing. One thing is for sure, i was not laughing about the wind long after that, and certainly not at the end of the trip, after being buffeted by 30-45mph winds non-stop for three days solid.

While a steady wind is nothing short of nerve wracking, a steady flow of water can be absolute bliss and that’s where the river delivered, showing no signs of ebbing over the three days i spent moving up, down, and across its gripping current. While the heavy flows would have kept lesser fish wary due to the one inch visibility, these fish were here, they were horny, and more than anything else they were hungry.

How hungry? Despite the chocolate milk consistency of the water, double digit fish within an hour were far from uncommon. While my new 7’6″ Winston 3WT was complaining out loud with every gust that blew the water upstream, it definitely doubled over in laughter with every hook-up and bolting bass caught despite the ceaseless buffeting of the wind.

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After a couple of days of way to much sun and wind on the river i headed out to the Spicewood Springs trail in the park eager to see it once again full of flowing water. It’s a small but heavenly creek full of waterfalls, verdant plant life, and crystal clear spring waters. Many years ago, when water was still abundant, my family and i had hiked this trail and the sunfish and small bass were plentiful to a degree that i now realize was a blessing. Now, using the two weight, three inch fish that had obviously never seen an angler were caught and released quickly. Back on the river, 20-30 fishermen were casting uncomfortably close to each other in muddy waters, but here it felt like fishing in Eden, despite the small size of the fish.

The last day was more white bass, more sun, more wind and more frustration about the two things (in addition to the wind) that had been plaguing me since i pulled in to camp that first night. One was the incessant rumbling of a tractors engine that was blown upstream by the endless wind. The other was that i had lost my waterproof camera of 5+ years in the first evening of fishing, lost (i imagined) in the muddy waters of the Colorado while grabbing a fly box.

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Breaking camp, i headed out on the dirt road only to hear the tractor hum that had plagued me for days approach, and feel the anger caused by this audible abomination to nature swell up in me. At the peak of frustration i realized what they had been doing, using an auger to plant a plethora of trees throughout the park. Smile.

So inspired was i by the fact that my frustration had turned out to be something so wonderful, i actually made a choice at the moment to embrace the positive aspect of every seemingly annoying setback. After stopping in the park rangers station a couple of times over the last few days to inquire about my lost camera only to be disappointed, i decided to make one last inquiry based on this recent turn of events.

Standing there inquiring about an “orange camera” i noticed the park ranger smiling in a peculiar way that had me wondering what was going on. When she returned with the camera my desperation / exaltation must have emanated from every pore.

Turns out that a young angler named Will had found my camera in his campsite (the one i initially took before moving sites) and turned it in that day. Turning around, i headed back to the small trailer that Will and his grandpa were camping in and was lucky enough to encounter them walking up the road to take a break from slaying the fish. I practically tripped over myself offering Will gifts and praise, grateful as i was for his honesty and virtue.

If you haven’t been to Colorado State Park yet i suggest you head there ASAP, it’s an amazing place with some incredible fishing . If your lucky, the wind and muddy waters will be long gone, but i’m sure the fish and positive vibes that Will tapped into will still be there for you to enjoy.

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