Catch Crappie Now at Lake of the Ozarks

Catch Crappie Now at Lake of the Ozarks Outdoor Revelations Bill Cooper for RDN 2/9/17

Crappie are the mot popular panfish in most parts of the country. Missouri’s Lake of the Ozarks is chock full of the tasty fish and anglers can catch them any month of the year. “Sure you can catch crappie here at LOZ now,” guide Jack Uxa said over the phone. “You could have caught them all winter long, too, had you been here.” Lake of the Ozarks is a crappie producing machine and has been for decades. Two factors are key to crappie abundance there. A bountiful food supply in the form of slow growing shad is a major cause of the heavy crappie numbers, according to Uxa. Too, the abundance of cover in the lake gives crappie superb places to hide, feed and rest. “Lake of the Ozarks is home to thousands of boat docks,” says Uxa. “And many of those boat docks have brush placed around them put there by the dock owners.” Many dock owners are also crappie fishermen. Having a crappie bed right out the back door is a dream come true for many homeowners on the lake. It’s easy fishing. Build a dock, toss in some cedars or discarded Christmas trees and the crappie will come. “The sweet thing about those docks,” say Dale Goff of Rolla, “is that anyone can fish them. I’ve fished dozens of them over the years and caught thousands of crappie at Lake of the Ozarks.” Dock owners expect anglers to fish around their docks. However, anglers should respect the docks as private property. Stay off the docks and good landowner-fisherman relationships stay in tact. Both Goff and Uxa agree that winter time is a great time to crappie fish. “If it is above 35 degrees, I will be on the lake most weekends,” Goff said. “I love it. You will see a few die hards, but not many people like to fish in cold weather. You can have some good spots pretty much to yourself. To, you don’t have to fight the boat traffic that is so prevalent in the summer time.” Uxa spends in the neighborhood of 290 days a year on the water guiding fishing clients. “Summer time is just crazy,” he said. “I seldom get a day off. People who vacation here, or have a condo like to fish in warmer weather for the most part.” I met Uxa at the lake a couple of weeks ago to spend the day with him, both bass and crappie fishing. Temperatures were supposed to climb into the fifties by afternoon. It was late afternoon before that happened. Once on the water, Jack nailed a small bass on a jerkbait in a matter of minutes. Then matters got tough. I heard the old adage, ”you shoulda been here yesterday.” A stable wether pattern had hovered over the lake for several days, along with heavy cloud cover. “The fishing has been great for days,” Uxa said. “Now today, th cloud cover is gone and the wind is out of the east.” “Wind out of the east, fish bite the least,” I chided. “I don’t really buy into that theory,” Jack explained. “It is true to some degree, but we will put a pattern together as the day goes by.” Bass fishing was slow. Uxa watched his electronics for baitfish near docks. “Here we go,” he said an hour into the trip. “There’s a ball of bait fish a few feet out from this dock.” Uxa positioned his Nitro boat facing the corner of a dock. He grasped his chartreuse, plastic crappie jig, pulled a heavy arch into his rod and slingshotted the jig several feet back up under a dock. He allowed the jig to sink perhaps six or eight feet and lifted his rod tip slightly. Bingo. He swung the first crappie of the day into the boat. Crappie filets are heavenly and I wasn’t bashful about asking Ux to put some in the live well as I kept filming. Uxa methodically worked his way around the dock, flipping his Bobby Garland Baby Shad jig into openings between the dock floats. Crappie after crappie fell to his technique. “These guys are running smaller than yesterday,” Jack said. “I caught some dandy crappie yesterday. The stronger light of today may have run the bigger fish to a little deeper water.” I wasn’t complaining. He steadily added crappie to the livewell. I made plans for a crappie dinner as I filmed the fishing action. The bite slowed and Uxa moved on down the bank, with his bass rod in his hands again. The bass bite remained slow, but he picked up the occasional largemouth. Soon Uxa found another ball of shad near a dock. He traded the bass rod for the crappie rod and went to work on crappie once again. “Wow, look at this on the locator,” he said. “Those white spots are crappie.” The white spots created a blur on the LED screen. It was a big ball of crappie hanging at the edge of the dock. Jack was already swinging crappie into the boat. “Pick up a rod, Bill,” he said. “This is going to last a while.” Having a good deal of film footage laid down, I grabbed a rod and began flipping a jig towards the dock. It took me a few minutes to get the right depth, but soon I, too, slung one crappie after another into the boat. “I can’t wait to get these babies into hot grease,” I laughed. “Well, anybody can do this, Bill,” Jack said. You can Google Uxa under Jack’s Guide Service, or give him a call at 573-434-2570. Don’t tarry too long. His phone rang steadily while we fished.

30 Trout Day on Meramec River

A Trio of Trout Fishing Factors for the Meramec Bill Cooper for MWO April 2017

The Meramec River flows practically out my back door. I can be there in a matter of minutes. Coupled with the fabulous weather lately and the fact that the Missouri Department of Conservation has been making monthly stockings of brown trout, my close proximity to the river has prompted frequent fishing trips. A cloudy, blustery, misty day may not be the ticket for fair weather fishermen, but brown trout anglers recognize such days as perfect for pursuing this first dpecies of trout described in the 1758 edition of Systema Naturae by Swedish zoologist Carl Linnaues. Brown trout have been introduced to many regions of the world and were first introduced into the United States in 1883 when Fred Mather, a New York pisciculturist and angler acquired brown trout eggs from a Baron Lucius von Behr, president of the German Fishing Society. Subsequent introductions came from Scotland and England. Specimens form all three locations were intermingled to create the American generic brown trout and a single species of the North European brown trout. History lessons aside, my intent for my most recent trout fishing excursion included getting to the river for a day to avoid the telephone and my computer. My choice of days paid off handsomely and quickly. I arrived at Maramec Spring Park around 10 a.m. My vehicle looked splendid as it sat alone on the parking lot. Perhaps I would enjoy the river alone on this dreary day. I scurried down the Maramec Spring branch towards the Meramec River. I carried my rod broken down because winter fishing had ended in the park. I made quick time with my waders and wading shoes bundled up and slung over my shoulder with a strap. My method also kept me from overheating and getting sweaty as I quick stepped it in my tennis shoes. Fifteen minutes later I slipped on my waders after putting several hundred yards between myself and the park boundaries. I tied a 4 1/2-inch trout colored stick bait onto my line. Brown trout are voracious meat eaters and feed heavily under dark conditions. I felt I had picked the perfect day. My speculations proved dead on. On my second cast into a deep, swift pool, my spinning rod thumped in my hand. I set the hook and the first battle of the day with a brown trout ensued. The combined power of the current and strength of the lunging fish made it feel much larger than it was. Regardless, a pleasurable smile covered my face as I brought the wriggling fish to hand. Minutes later a surprising revelation came my way. I hooked a brown in less than 18-inches of water. I had discovered, by accident, that fish were actively feeding in shallow riffles due to the dim light. I knew immediately that I was in for special day of fishing on the Meramec River. I began scanning the shallow riffles below deeper pools and soon began picking out the dark shapes of feeding brown trout. Stealth became the order of the day, as I quietly and slowly approached actively feeding fish. As soon as the fishing slowed in one riffle, I moved on to the next and repeated the process. It worked like a charm. The incredible fishing sure beat answering the phone and pounding the keys of my computer. Too, I felt a bit smug for having picked the perfect day to catch fish and avoid people. I continued to catch brown after brown, until the temptation to cast into a deep, swift pool, which was choked with logs, overtook me. I snagged my prized stick bait. I yanked and pulled, thrashing the water with my line. As my lure broke free, the water erupted. A big rainbow trout, of three pounds plus crashed my lure. It tail walked across the surface and gained its freedom. I stood spellbound at what had just happened. Such moments engrain themselves into the minds of fishermen. Heavy wingbeats behind me caught my attention. A dozen or so wild turkeys soared across the river, creating another magical moment on the river. Another log jam with swift water appeared up ahead. Perhas I could hook another big fish there. Wrong. My first cast into the fray cost me my highly successful rainbow colored stick bait. Disheartened with the lure loss, I figured my good fishing for the day had ended. Ten feet downstream, I found a 3-inch gold and black Rapala partially buried in the sand. I’ve caught many trout on them over the years. I tied the Rapala to my line and a dozen casts later had my first Rapala brown of the day. I continued downstream, having traveled much farther than I intended But, the fishing proved phenomenal and I wasn’t about to quit. I found another long riffle. To my surprise, it held both bowns and rainbows. Two or three fish chased my Rapala with each cast. Fifteen minutes later the action slowed. I had caught a half dozen fish. I moved on down stream. A long pool, dropped into a shallow run. Just for a change, I tied on a rainbow colored Rooster Tail and caught a rainbow trout on my first cast. Several more bows fell to the flashy Rooster Tail. Weary but happy I began the three mile hike back to the truck. I revisited several spots on the way back and picked up another half dozen brown trout. Near the park boundary, I encountered two older gentlemen, older than me that is. We exchanged greetings and asked the usual how did you do questions. I nodded, “I did OK.” If they only had known about the powerful combination of living close to the river, fishing a gloomy day and knowing that lots of brown trout finned the shallows far downstream, they would have been OK, too.