Alazan Bayou

Cold Water Cats

A Large Blue Caught Roost Fishing in 2016

Each year in North Texas, around the beginning of February, there seems to be a lull in outdoor opportunity: duck season is over, the sand bass aren't fully running, the crappie aren't spawning, and it's cold. At times like this an outdoorsman's options can seem limited, but if you know where to look opportunity can abound.

North Texas lakes this time of year typically have a winter population of water turkeys. These birds fly down each winter and roost in the flooded timber of our lakes. They congregate in large groups at night and fly out at sunrise each morning. Lots of birds means lots of mess, and that mess attracts lots of fish. 

I'd first heard of fishing these roosts several years ago, but never actually tried it until a few years ago. The idea is that catfish are attracted by the concentration of undigested fish remaining in the water turkey mess. Get on the water right at daybreak and stink bait under a bobber will produce fish.

My first time using this technique was in 2016 when Lake Grapevine was at near-historic high levels. An extremely wet fall and winter had filled the lake and flooded much of the surrounding area. Grapevine is an interesting lake in that there aren't huge stands of flooded timber. There is, however, an island, and that island is covered in trees. The lake was so high that the island was completely underwater with only the very tops of the trees protruding.

Another 2016 Blue Cat

That winter I would launch my kayak just before daybreak, quietly paddle to the island, and cast under the trees. Bites usually came quickly, nearly as soon as the bobber hit the water. There were only two roost trees, but they were always holding fish.

Grapevine returned to pool later that year leaving the island, and my fishing spot, dry. Driving to work this winter I'd noticed flocks of water turkeys flying over the road each morning and evening. In the morning the flocks are leaving the lake, flying north, and each evening they return. 

It had been in my mind to find where these birds were roosting when my father called; he'd read an article in the Dallas Morning News about fishing the roosts, knew I'd done so before, and wanted to go out. He asked if Grapevine still had the turkeys on it, but I told him we should check out the lake by my work. Neither of us had ever been there but a quick Google image search revealed extensive stands of timber in the upper end of the lake. That was the general area the turkeys had been flying from so we gave it a shot. 

We couldn't get out until a Sunday afternoon and the birds were long gone. We fished all afternoon and into the evening with only one bite. As evening approached the birds began to return. We were careful to stay downwind from them and allow them to roost without being spooked. Soon enough my father landed the first fish. We fished a little longer and caught one more channel cat, but that was it for the day.

First Cat of the Day

A week later I decided to try the same spot but in the morning. I got out early, before light, and paddled to the spot. Getting in early made all the difference. Before it was even light I sat on the water, kayak bobbing in the light breeze, and the sound of catfish swirling at the surface was all around me. 

In addition to my rod I'd brought along a trotline. Running a trotline in a kayak is tricky business, especially if there is wind, but it's one of my favorite ways to fish. At first light I cast to several trees with no bites. It was unbelievable, fish were swirling all around me and I couldn't get a single one to bite. I found an area where I saw several fish swirl, paddled over, and set out the trotline. 

After putting out the line I paddled around, casting to each large tree as I came to it. There are so many trees in the area that I focused on those with the most branches. I continued to see and hear fish swirling, but just couldn't get them to bite. Finally, after a couple hours, I hooked into the first fish. The fish hit hard, running quickly sideways and tangled himself in some submerged branches. After a little coaxing the fish came free and was in hand. 

It was at this point I noticed the wind had picked up. It was becoming difficult to fish due to the wind, my kayak was swaying about, my bobber was being quickly blown away from the trees, and accurately casting the setup became difficult. I decided it was best to go pull in my trotline before the waves go any bigger and made it more difficult. 

On approaching the trotline there wasn't any visible shaking, usually not a good sign. Grabbing the line told a different story, though, and I could feel several fish on. In all I had four cats on the trotline, not bad for only a two hour soak. I pulled the line in and headed back to the launch with five fat catfish in tow.

Five Nice Blue Catfish

I couldn't figure out why I didn't catch more cats, but next time I go out I plan to use a different setup. To combat the wind and allow for further casting I was using a slip bobber rig, with a larger weight and swivel. When the rig landed it didn't make the desired "plopping" noise, but instead splashed rather loudly. It might have been enough of a splash to spook the cats away from the tree and my bait. Hopefully I'll get to go out soon and test my theory.

If you have a lake near you that has a water turkey roost on it, and you enjoy catching catfish, now is a great time of year to get on the water and reel a few in.

Texas Pickerel - Daingerfield SP

Several years ago I first heard about chain pickerel, a species related to northern pike; until then I'd never realized that we had a pike species in Texas. According to TPWD pickerel fishing is a predominantly wintertime activity, spanning from the first strong cold front of the year until March or April. Spawning usually occurs between December and February meaning the fish are shallow when many other Texas species have gone deep. These fish are found in the northeastern portion of our State, in lakes such as Daingerfield, Hawkins, and Caddo. I'm yet to find a comprehensive list of Texas lakes containing pickerel, but those three have confirmed populations.

My interest was further piqued when I read a post by Casey Ryan on his blog, 2FlyFish4, in 2015. Casey provided some wonderful information and guideline to follow. December and January being duck season, though, it was two more years before I finally made it out to fish for these pickerel. 

This past weekend was a long New Year's weekend, so I knew most of my local duck haunts would be covered in hunters. The weather was forecast to be unusual: 43F at sunrise, 45F at noon, and 42F at sunset. My first thought was to try some striper fishing at Texoma but the wind was supposed to pick up to 10-12mph out of the north, which makes for a rough lake and more than I want to tackle in my little kayak, so I turned my gaze eastward.

Caddo seemed too far to drive, Hawkins seemed a little too exposed to the wind, so Daingerfield it was. The forecast temperatures were the same as Grapevine but the wind was only supposed to top out at 7 miles an hour, with a constantly overcast sky, perfect conditions for shallow kayak fishing. 

Daingerfield State Park

Daingerfield is a beautiful park, as most East Texas parks are. There's a beautiful mix of pines and hardwoods. Remnants of fall color were everywhere and you could easily imagine how vibrant they must have been only a month ago. Entry is only $4 for the day and there is a nice little concrete launch by the nature center. 

After launching my kayak I fished the cove immediately east of the ramp. I'd brought both fly and traditional setups. Fishing first with the fly rod I had a strike on only my second cast. Reading that these fish spawned in submerged aquatic vegetation I focused on areas with lily pads. Casting into the pads and pulling the fly through them with short, sharp strips seemed to be the ticket. 

Texas Pickerel

For flies I used several different baitfish patterns. Size and color didn't seem to matter, as I used several different sizes, colors, and profiles, and caught fish on all of them. Catching in the pads did present a problem and the next time I go my box will be full of weedless flies. 

As the day was cloudy I caught many of the fish just under the surface, but a sunny day would probably require fishing lower in the column. While several fish were caught on the fly the star of the day was a gold Rapala minnow jerkbait. This outfished the flies by a large margin.

Texas Pickerel

Both the jerkbait and flies were used as a 1-2 punch. As I paddled up to an area of pads I would cast to the outer edges with the jerkbait, fishing first straight out, then down the edge. After making several casts with the jerkbait I'd get my fly rod and cast to empty pockets in the lily pads. 

These pickerel are vicious strikers, hitting hard. They don't get very big, so lighter tackle is recommended if you want a good fight. I had a short 5' medium-light action baitcasting rod and 9' 6-weight fly rod and these were sporting. 

In about four hours of fishing I caught around a dozen fish. I could have fished longer and caught more, but my hands finally succumbed to the cold and quit working on me. If you can sneak away for the day, and don't mind getting a little cold, you should certainly make the trip to chase these fish. The pickerel hit hard, were extremely aggressive, and the setting was beautiful.

Big Bend Trip Part 4 - The Window

Day four, our third full day, saw much more variety than the previous day. We'd spent the prior afternoon investigating Santa Elena Canyon. The hike up Emory Peak had pretty well worn us out, so we'd decided to take an easy walk down to the vista overlooking the iconic canyon.

Santa Elena Canyon

With a full night's rest in us, though, we were ready to tackle more challenging hikes, the first being down to the Window. The Window is an amazing overlook that turns into a waterfall in the wet season. 

We could immediately tell this hike would be different than those we'd been on so far. Rather than climbing to a peak we were descending in a canyon. One of the interesting elements of Big Bend is that you're never really sure where you are in elevation. The whole time you're walking down this canyon you'd swear you were "down in it," only to reach the end and find a 100 foot drop. I suppose that's where the term "sky island" comes from.

Regardless of elevation we were following a trail down a valley and it was markedly different from the mountain hike or river run of yesterday. The brush was much thicker, there were many more birds, you could just feel the life. Soon into the hike we spotted some blue, or scaled quail, the first I'd ever seen. They're a Southwest bird, and something I was hoping to see on this trip. 

The other Southwest species I was hoping to spy was the black bear. Black bears have been pushing their way back into West Texas from Mexico in recent years and Big Bend has a pretty reliable population. I'd mentioned to Kenny that morning that I'd really like to see either a mountain lion or black bear. I had once worked in Alaska where black bears were very common, but the though of walking up on a black bear in Texas seemed rare and unlikely.

Little did I know I would soon see my bear. We were walking along the dry creek bed, not in it, but next to it. I was in front, rounded a bend, and saw a black bear standing the the road. I look back at Kenny and say "there's a bear!" Kenny, of course, does not believe me. I may have a slight reputation for loving to play jokes on my friends. 

Regardless of Kenny's belief or lack thereof the bear was standing in the trail. He must have known I was there but didn't even look back as he continued down the trail and rounded a bend. I sneaked my way forward, unwilling to rush up on an unsuspecting bear and risk surprising him. Right as I reached the bend I heard clattering among the rocks in the dry wash letting me know the bear had slipped off. 

Kenny was by my side at this point and thoroughly convinced I was pulling his leg. "Oh stop joking around, Tommy." Desperate to prove the bear's reality I started searching for tracks. Kenny thought this was just another ploy to sell the joke, but in short order a track was found.

Big Bend Black Bear Track

 Nothing dispels doubts like physical proof! Suddenly, Kenny was all eyes, scanning the brush for bears. I'd heard the clattering of rocks, which I'd assumed came from the dry creek, so we kept our attention in that direction. After another ten minutes of walking I heard a crash of brush, not from the creek, but from up the mountain. Looking up the mountain I spot a bear, sitting on a ledge under a tree. 

Big Bend Black Bear

Honestly, I don't think this is the same bear as previously seen. This bear looked much smaller, much leaner. We stood there and watched the bear for several minutes; he stood there and watched us right back. He didn't seemed particularly bothered by us, but he didn't seem quite comfortable either. After several pictures we continued on our way.

The trail to the Window narrows continuously from start to finish, culminating in a tight corridor that is worn smooth by years of flowing water. The effect of this narrowing is a nice, continual breeze to cool you on a warm morning. The view from the Window is a bit limited, but being able to stand so close to the edge is the real attraction.

The Window

After the Window Trail we decided to hike the Lost Mine trail. This area of the State was once believed to contain precious metal deposits and there was rumored to be a "lost mine" of immeasurable wealth, giving the trail it's name. The only mining I'm aware of was the cinnabar mining around Terlingua for the production of mercury. 

The Lost Mine trail offered some of the best vistas of the trip. The trail spent most of its course switchback-ing up the mountainside. The final stretch is the most beautiful with some wonderful sheer drop-offs and endless landscapes. 

Lost Mine Trail

Lost Mine trail marked the end of our time in the Park and was a wonderful way to cap off the trip. We were leaving the following morning to make the drive back to Dallas, a long haul for sure. 

Big Bend is a wonderful place with plenty to explore. If you like western vistas and hiking then you definitely need to make the drive. If for no other reason you should go just to feel the strange juxtaposition of isolation and yet somehow being surrounded by people. From the time you leave Alpine until you arrive in Terlingua you will not see people. In fact, most of the trip is emptiness, suddenly interrupted by some hamlet and its denizens. 

We stayed at the Chisos Mining Company but there are several options available. There is dining in Terlingua, as well as the park, and many of the local accommodations include a small kitchen. A week may be a long trip, four days was perfect for us. However long you have, I highly recommend this trip.

Big Bend Trip Part 3 - Emory Peak

The alarm rang early on our second full day of the trip. We'd decided to get an early start and tackle Emory Peak. Emory Peak is the highest point in the park and we wanted to get an early start to avoid climbing in the heat of the day. 

Researching the climb we'd heard that it was difficult, though rewarding. We started on the trail before official sunup, embarking as soon as there was enough light to see, to allow as much time as possible. We parked at the Chisos Basin Visitors' Center and took the Basin Trailhead. The morning was surprisingly cool but the hike quickly warmed us up. The trail seems to jump from the basin floor before settling into a nice grade. 

From "go" the views were amazing. I'm sure it's mostly due to my love of the Trans-Pecos landscape, but every step revealed a new vista worth stopping and looking at. The trail was heavily wooded with a mix of pine, juniper, and Texas madrone. The madrone was a tree new to us; the bark peeled from the trunk, similar to a crepe myrtle at certain times of the year.

Early View on the Emory Peak Trail

The trail was surprisingly well maintained. To be honest I didn't have an expectation of what it would look like, but it was well packed and quite wide. The trail is listed as over nine miles, round trip, so we kept up a good pace and gained altitude quickly. 

In the picture above you can see the small collection of buildings that are the Chisos Basin Visitors' Center and Lodge. We kept an eye on those buildings throughout the climb, as they provided a good frame of reference for how far we'd gone. The landscape was so grand that without some measured marker it was difficult to judge distances. 

The Visitors' Center is Next to the Pinnacle in the Middle of the Frame

You get into a certain rhythm when walking on a trial, and Kenny and I certainly did that. We only stopped to rest once on the way up, where we split off the Pinnacles Trail and headed toward the Peak. In all this time we'd only seen two other people on the trail, two gentlemen who were birding about a mile from the trailhead. It seemed our plan of traveling in a shoulder-season was paying off.

The last stretch of trail before the Peak was a scramble over exposed rock. The whole trail had been so well maintained that this was a bit surprising, but we both agreed this was one of the most fun parts of the trip. We initially crawled to one summit, only to realize that it was a false peak. For those that go, the true peak has radio equipment on it. The park has a radio system and one of their antennas is up on Emory. 

All the Way to the Top

The views from the top of the Peak were amazing; you could see for tens of miles in each direction. In the picture above we're looking to the south and west. We took our packs off and sat down to enjoy the views and rest for a while. There were cliff swallows flying about and they were absolutely fearless. The wind was really blowing and the swallows would fly with it, going extremely fast. Kenny and I couldn't have been more than ten feet apart and several times we had the birds fly between us.

Kenny and I at the Peak

We spent about an hour at the top before heading down. We could have spent much longer but other hikers started to arrive and we wanted to get out of their way, as there wasn't much room. We'd made the peak in 2 hours and the walk down took 2.5. By the time we reached the bottom we were ready for lunch and grabbed a bite to eat at the Chisos Mountain Lodge. 

To be continued...

Big Bend Part 2 - Balmorhea, Alpine, Terlingua

Leaving the Sandhills behind us we headed west on 20, then south on TX-17. This takes you to the two small communities of Balmorhea and Toyahvale, the location of Balmorhea State Park. This was by far the most surprising stop in our trip. 

I'd seen pictures of the spring before but this is a place that you truly have to visit to appreciate. Balmorhea is in the middle of some of the plainest looking country you can find. Everything around is some shade of brown. While a mountain range is visible to the south the immediate area is flat for miles. Low grass, dirt, rocks, and the occasional thorny shrub dominate the landscape. And in the middle of all this is the spring.

Photo Courtesy of Texas Parks & Wildlife

Amidst the monochromatic surroundings the spring glimmers sapphire blue. There is a small visitors' center, bathrooms with showers, and some campsites. Walking to the spring feels like walking down to the YMCA pool; a veranda sits on one side of the spring joining the restrooms with a concessions stand.

Though relatively early in the year, Kenny and I decided to go for a swim. As expected with a spring the water was very cool; the park website had told us the spring stays between 72 and 76 degrees year-round. It only took a few minutes to acclimate but getting out of the water was a quick reminder we were swimming two months too early. 

The biggest surprise was the schools of fish swimming about. Present are the Comanche Springs pupfish, Leon Springs pupfish, and Pecos gambusia. These fish would swim about in schools, completely unafraid of any swimmers. Kenny and I also noticed several turtles and even a catfish. The water was unbelievably clear, clearer than any I'd ever seen before, and you could dive under water and see from end to end. I didn't bring my waterproof camera and greatly regretted it. The spring was absolutely beautiful and there was no shortage of things to look at.

We still had a long ways to go before the day was done, so we ate our packed lunch and kept heading south. Next stop was the McDonald observatory. We had a quick visit that included a live feed of the surface of the sun. The road in was winding and featured some of our first truly broken terrain. There were several switchbacks and steep climbs that made for a very fun ride.

Leaving the observatory we again headed south, now becoming a recurring theme of the trip. We had one last stop before continuing on to our cabin  for the night. We made that stop in Alpine. Alpine is an interesting town in that it's big enough you don't feel as though you've fallen off the map, yet so different from other Texas towns you can't quite believe you're there. 

Big Bend Brewing Company is on the edge of town and offered us a place to wet our whistles. Like so many other craft breweries it had a casual, everybody-is-welcome feel. The beer was great; for non-hop-heads such as ourselves it was nice to get a drink that didn't feel like the brewer crammed in as many hops as he could, then added some more. My personal favorite was the #22 Porter, but everything was good. The taproom has picnic tables and decks of cards on each. We ended up playing one very long game of blackjack using coasters as chips.

Finally, it was time to drive the final stretch TX-118 to Terlingua. Terlingua is probably the most notable town near Big Bend, never mind that it's the only town. A collection of hippies, nomads, river raft guides, and general desert-folk, the town is a strange oasis in the desert. Research before our trip brought up stories ranging from festivals to murder.

We were staying at the Chisos Mining Company in a single-room cabin. These cabins are all brightly colored and give the area the moniker "Easter Egg Valley." On the western edge of the park these cabins offer the best place to stay in close proximity to the western entrance. We unloaded all our bags, grabbed supper at a local restaurant (la Kiva), and hit the sack. Tomorrow we would be tackling Emory Peak, highest point in the park.

To be continued...

Big Bend Part 1 - Monahans Sandhills

Back in April of this year a friend and I traveled to Big Bend National Park. I'd first made this trip as a child with my father and older brother and sister. That was nearly twenty years ago and I'd always wanted to go back. Plans were made to go sooner but something always seemed to come up. I was close, once, in college when a professor allowed me to accompany him on a collection trip to Lajitas. Though our route took us to the doors of the park we never actually entered.

Actually making the trip happen was that simple: just make it happen. I called Kenny, my best friend of 20 years, and asked him if he wanted to take the trip with me. He decided he wanted in and we started looking at dates. We both had vacation to give so we settled on late April; this missed the Spring Break crowds and came before summer's heat. 

In planning the trip I initially wanted to stick as close to our route from '99 as possible. We'd gone earlier in the year and hit Monahans, Fort Davis, the McDonald Observatory, Alpine, Marfa, Big Bend NP, and the Sweetwater Rattlesnake Roundup. Kenny and I wanted a little different experience than my elementary-aged siblings and I had. We settled on an itinerary that included Monahans, Balmorhea, McDonald Observatory, Alpine, Terlingua, and finally the park.

Leaving town on a Wednesday after work we headed west on I-20, driving well into the night. The whole drive I was nervous the trip would be a flop. I'd enjoyed my trip to Big Bend as a child, but would I enjoy it now? We stayed the first night in a hotel in Monahans, the only two non-oil field workers there, getting very little sleep. 

Next morning we were up early and headed to Monahans Sandhills State Park. This was one of the highlights of my childhood trip and I wanted to see if the hills were as high as I remembered. If you've never heard of them, the Monahans Sandhills are a collection of dunes just outside town. You can rent plastic discs coated in beeswax to slide down them on. It's about as close as Texans ever get to sledding. 

We arrive at the park soon after it opened, rented our discs, and hit the hills. In the early morning light the place was beautiful. Being so early in the year the temperature was cool, a slight breeze keeping any uncomfortable warmth at bay. Climbing the hills is much harder than expected, and they were in fact as high as I remembered. 

Monahans Sandhills State Park

We didn't stay long but both agreed it was definitely worth the price of admission. If anything it served to 're-calibrate' our minds from North Texas to West. We found we were too heavy to slide down the hills with much speed so much of our time was spent taking in the view.

With so much planned, and such a tight schedule, we had to leave the park and head south for Balmorhea. 

To be continued...