The Amazing Bachtel Boys

I took a look at the bluebird skies and sighed... I knew it would be a tough day of fishing. High clouds were moving in though, bringing with them a chance for rain and storms. If we were going to hook up the boat and go fish, I had to get a move on.

As I was locking the boat to the truck, the boys were picking out what rods to take and what tackle. We were going out to Portage Lakes to do some fun fishing, mainly looking for bluegills and redears, but I had crappie on my mind. It would prove to be tough early, but the end of the day was on. Big time. We stopped at the Fisherman's Shack on S. Main to pick up the bait. The warm greeting the owners yellow lab "SHACK" gives the boys is always a great time. We talked a bit and Nick dropped off another photo for the shop's "Wall of Fame". Three dozen minnows, a couple cups of maggots, 50 waxworms and we were off to the ramp. The excitement level in the boys was rising, the anticipation of hauling in a bunch of big fish growing. I was still looking at the skies.

We got the boat launched, and after some minor motor cleaning, we were off. We passed Matt from the Division of Wildlife along with his camera crew who I assume were shooting a Wild Ohio segment. We talked for a minute about the fishing and moved out. Where would it be, East or Turkeyfoot? The winds were blowing pretty good and that made the decision for me. Much easier boat control on East, so we started down the channel. As we passed Gene's old place, Sam was reminding Nick and I of all the great times he spent there and the fish he caught off the dock. Fishing memories of an 8 year old... Gotta love it. We all agreed on one thing as we passed. Gene and Teri, we miss you guys (and Cooper) a great deal.

Travelling around the lakes takes a little time, as it is pretty much all a no-wake zone. But on the way, there's a lot to look at. We saw several herons nabbing fish and the ospreys put on an aerial show. There was a screeching redtailed hawk in the distance that Sam heard. He said "Hawks are my favorite bird." He really liked the bikini clad cardboard cutout in the window of a house as we entered the Iron Channel. He said he wasn't looking, but I saw him peek. Then I told him it was OK to look and the rule of "what happens on the boat stays in the boat". As we cruised into East, the water got very clear and fish could be seen everywhere. The sight even got me a little pumped. Maybe it would be and OK day. The clouds were moving in...

We headed down lake and slowed down to look for the productive brushpiles I had found in the Spring. There they were on the fish finder and they were loaded with big marks. Over the side went some live minnows under a slip bobber. I had a hit, the slow dive of a slab crappie, but I missed. Sam had a hit. WHAM! It was a nice fish. He was cranking it up from the depths, a real nice two pound bass. The fish broke the surface and shook the hook loose, leaving Sam dejected. But it did get him excited for the rest of the day. We stuck it out on the deep brush, but the fish wouldn't bite. The marks were great, but you can't count those. We decided to move shallow and look for the bigger redears and gills. Moving to another spot, we found some scattered fish on a nice weed edge. They would hammer the pinmin/maggot combo and the bigger fish, would slowly sink the stick bobbers. It was great because after awhile, Sam would recognize the bite and know the bigger fish while they hit. Bluegill after bluegill came into the boat, some real nice 6 to 8 inchers, all decked out with bright colors. After we got the fish going, Nick got his flyrod out and started throwing a black foam spider with green legs. His casts were spot-on, and when the first fish came up and hit it, SLURP, the spider was gone and Nick was laughing.

I helped Sam keeep his hook baited up, and casted for him in the tighter spots. Then I was boat control man. Nick was in Auto Pilot with his flyrod and ultralite, catching fish after fish. There were lots of clouds rolling in now, some of them pretty gray, so we decided to call it a day. Heading back, we stopped at one last place to give it a shot, over in West Reservior. The spot always produces good gills and redears, so what the heck. You can say that when you're on vacation. There was a school of real nice bluegill there and they were biting well. Sam was catching them like a pro and he and Nick put the hammer to the fish. Then, out of nowhere, Sam got bit. His bobber shot across the water in a different way. "Set the hook" Nick shouted. Sam layed back and drove his point into the corner of the fishes mouth. Then the fish got mad. It was pulling drag and running, trying to get as far away from the boat as he could. This was definitely no bluegill. I grabbed the net in anticipation of a bass, but that wasn't it either. Sam was laughing so hard, I thought he was going to wet himself, and in-between his cackling, he would exclaim "MY WRIST IS KILLING ME!" Then back to laughing. Nick was there, giving him encouragement on the fight, and then I had a moment. One of those times when you take yourself out of the scene and just watch. It was the feeling. The reason why I like fishing with kids. They were having so much fun trying to get that fish in the boat, and I was there to see it. The catfish came up and winked at Sam, then I scooped it into the net. He was so happy to get that fish in the boat... "CATFISH!" he screamed. "It's the first catfish I ever caught", he went on. I showed him how to hold Ol' whiskers without getting jabbed but the fish was too big for his small hands. It weighed 3 pounds or so, but you would have thought it was a new state record. We took a picture and dropped him back into the lake, and then it was back to fishing. Sam is hooked forever now.

Later, after we got home and I had backed the boat in, I was putting gear away and he asked, "Dad? Can we get the picture we took of my catfish made into, like a real picture I can keep. When I get old I want to look at it and remember catching it because it was so much fun. Well, not really old, but older." I told him when he gets old he'll want to look at it too. I can only imagine the stories he'll tell his kids about that day of fishing and the whiskered monster he caught. I'll be making myself a few copies of that picture too. Great job Sam.