Species: Walleye (Sander vitreus) Location: American Fork Marina, Utah Lake, Provo, UT Date: June 22, 2017
When doing my research about Utah Lake, I’d read that it contained Walleye, but I’d always heard that the coolwater species like to stay deep and rarely fed during daylight — especially in the dog days of summer.
So when my worm was taken, I assumed it was a small White Bass.
Nothing could’ve pleased me more than the long, perch-like fish on the end of my line. My Walleye was neither big nor pretty as this fish can be, and stretched the tape to just 16 inches.
I knew they had teeth, so I was careful as I handled the fish, but I quickly realized a fish this size was harmless, so I was able to lip it for a quick photo before letting it swim free.
Some of my blog posts are like Oompa Loompas: short and lame. This is one of them. I just hope that “you will live in happiness too. Like the Oompa Loompa, doompety do.”
For the record, the original Willy Wonka was better than the remake, and it was a great film, despite the Oompa Loompas.
Species: Channel Catfish (Ictalurus punctatus) Location: American Fork Marina, Utah Lake, Provo, UT Date: June 22, 2017
I don’t think my attitude towards a species has changed so quickly.
When I threw my worm up against the far rocky shoreline of the American Fork Marina, it was hammered so hard, the rod almost went into the water. I was stoked, thinking I’d hooked into some massive beast of a fish, but as I got the fish close enough to see it in the milky water, I was surprised to see it wasn’t a massive White Bass or a massive June Sucker, but rather a respectable catfish.
I knew Channel Catfish were present in Utah Lake, but I didn’t really expect to catch one in broad daylight. Yet here I was.
I was impressed with the fight and tenacity of the two-foot fish, and when I landed it, I was further impressed with the pugnacious attitude it carried with it.
Lipping a catfish really isn’t that bad. The spines are terribly painful (I’ve learned this at least half a dozen times), so lipping them or tail gripping is your best bet.
Then I caught another, and the magic was lost a little.
I hate to even say it, but every time I hooked one on my light tackle, it would drag me into the rocks and make me change the horribly abraded line — a pain with only a few hours to fish.
When I saw some folks fishing lures from a boat for these massive beasts, I was wistful about a truly massive Channel Catfish, but it never came. My two five-pounders would have to suffice.
Channel Catfish get bigger than this, but the two five-pound-class Channel Cats I caught that first day in Utah remain some of the biggest I’ve caught to date.***
Since then, fishing the South has made me hate these fish. Invasive in much of their current range, they displace suckers and redhorse and other native bottom feeders. They often get stunted like Bullheads and Yellow Perch, and they really have no value as a species.
Further, their spines are especially painful, and every time I throw one on the bank where invasive (as I do with Yellow Perch and Bullheads back in Oregon), I get stabbed by their damn spines, as they inflict one final blow on society.
Sadly, they’re here to stay. So where invasive, kill every one you catch (when legal) — whether or not it’s big enough to eat.
Species: White Bass (Morone chrysops) Location: American Fork Marina, Utah Lake, Provo, UT Date: June 22, 2017
As I drove across the West on my way to Commissioned Officer Training (COT) in Montgomery, Alabama, I carefully planned my route to include stops at places I wanted to see. From Klamath Falls, my first long day of driving ended at Salt Lake City, and I stopped in at Utah Lake in nearby Provo for an evening of fishing.
Utah Lake is home to several species of Utah natives, including the endangered June Sucker, and though I hoped I might luck into one of these embattled fish, I realistically hoped to catch both a White Bass and a Channel Catfish — two invasive species that I’d never hooked into before given that the former doesn’t exist at all in Oregon, and the latter is very rare.
I found myself at the mouth of the American Fork where I hoped the flowing water would congregate fish looking for respite from the summer heat.
All I had for bait were worms, and I set up my first rod with a crappie rig that included two small baited hooks on dropper loops.
Before I could even tie a lure onto my second rod, the first dipped, and I was holding my first White Bass.
The spunky little dude was what I had hoped for, and it came so easily that I expected something bad to happen that night.
I landed several more White Bass that night, but the two other species I landed were what made the stop so worthwhile.