Smallies, brownbacks, bronze bombers - you'll hear these and other names to describe smallmouth bass among members of the Wisconsin Smallmouth Association.
A 501 (c) (3) charitable non-profit organization, its membership consists of anglers intent on improving smallmouth bass fishing opportunities throughout Wisconsin. Activities include meetings the third Tuesday in McFarland, a monthly newsletter and a spring auction, the proceeds from which provide assistance to local projects such as the introduction of bass to 26 miles of habitat along the Apple River in northeast Wisconsin.
I've been waiting somewhat impatiently for an opportunity to fish with WSA President Steve Winters. We've talked of an outing on the Wisconsin River this past summer, only to have plans blown up by stormy weather or conflicting schedules.
The stars finally aligned (well sort of) a couple of weeks ago. "The river might be a little high," Winters says. "But if we don't go now, they'll be heading for deeper water."
We agree to meet at the boat dock along County Highway Y near Mazomanie. After a couple of lame jokes about the nude beach nearby, we decide to head upstream rather than risk a heart attack at what we might see on the beach in the other direction.
It's soon clear that my fishing companion is well-schooled in the lore of bass fishing. Just what I'm looking for as a way to reminisce about bass fishing on the Yellowstone River back in the mid-fifties about the time that Yellowstone Lake was filling up for the first time. The Pecatonica River back then would also yield a nice bass or two.
My brother, Dick, and I would head for one or the other of these two waterways after milking or on a rainy day. Night crawlers, either artificial or squiggly fresh ones lifted gently from under a crispy, sun-dried cow pie, were the bait of choice in those days. The bass loved them.
I appreciate the opportunity to fish with a genuine expert. Winters is a fly fisherman, with three fly rods encased and stored neatly on his 14-foot flat bottom boat. While the water might be too high to catch many fish this day, Winters seems unfazed. "It's about fishing which doesn't necessarily include catching any fish," he muses.
It's also about watching the kingfishers that have built nests along the high sand banks of the river. It's about a busy osprey gliding overhead with the grace of a ballerina until it spots a fish, then propelling itself into a power dive straight to the target.
At 63, Winters is like most old salts, weaving tales of bygone fishing trips to the far corners of Wisconsin, encounters with all manner of wildlife and a few life lessons along the way.
"I distinctly remember when I fell in love with bass," he says with a grin. At this, I know I'm about to soak up some imaginative talk of a singular experience told a dozen different ways to a hundred different people. It's a part of history (his), and I await the story with quiet anticipation.
"I went to work for the DNR (then Conservation Department) as an LTE on the Namakagon River in 1966," he begins. "Jerry Spaulding and I were college kids working summer jobs. But the DNR neglected to pay us for two pay periods, and the only money we had was borrowed from the landlord, our boss and some friends - they were mostly broke too."
"We fished for bass every night after work, eating fish until they got around to paying us. I've loved them ever since. I owe 'em," he concludes.
Much has changed since then, however, Winters and the Alliance promote catch and release as a way to keep bass populations at a high level. He notes technological advances that allow for a greater harvest of fish now and, according to a favorite saying, "God is definitely not a fisherman; he keeps making people and quit making rivers 10,000 years ago."
While not nearly the size of other, more well-established outdoor organizations, the approximately 75 dues-paying members of the Smallmouth Alliance are no less passionate about their calling than larger groups such as Trout Unlimited with membership in the thousands.
Winters is always in recruitment mode, however. As we return to the dock we encounter a newcomer to the area asking questions about fishing and hunting opportunities. Winters has a membership form at the ready and offers an explanation of "who we are."
The group distributes "Free the Fighter" signs around the state in appropriate places, he explained. "I got us permission from the five (DNR) district managers to put them up at boat and canoe landings owned by the state."
For an organization of this size, the amount of information available on its website and the relevant content of its monthly newsletter is remarkable. Members include several fishing guide services located at strategic locations around the state.
Learn more about the organization at wisconsinsmallmouth.com. To join the Wisconsin Smallmouth Alliance, call Mike Simon at (608) 848-3770 or Steve Winters at (608) 524-6348.
- Lee Fahrney is the Times outdoors writer. He can be reached at (608) 967-2208 or at fiveoaks@mhtc.net.
A 501 (c) (3) charitable non-profit organization, its membership consists of anglers intent on improving smallmouth bass fishing opportunities throughout Wisconsin. Activities include meetings the third Tuesday in McFarland, a monthly newsletter and a spring auction, the proceeds from which provide assistance to local projects such as the introduction of bass to 26 miles of habitat along the Apple River in northeast Wisconsin.
I've been waiting somewhat impatiently for an opportunity to fish with WSA President Steve Winters. We've talked of an outing on the Wisconsin River this past summer, only to have plans blown up by stormy weather or conflicting schedules.
The stars finally aligned (well sort of) a couple of weeks ago. "The river might be a little high," Winters says. "But if we don't go now, they'll be heading for deeper water."
We agree to meet at the boat dock along County Highway Y near Mazomanie. After a couple of lame jokes about the nude beach nearby, we decide to head upstream rather than risk a heart attack at what we might see on the beach in the other direction.
It's soon clear that my fishing companion is well-schooled in the lore of bass fishing. Just what I'm looking for as a way to reminisce about bass fishing on the Yellowstone River back in the mid-fifties about the time that Yellowstone Lake was filling up for the first time. The Pecatonica River back then would also yield a nice bass or two.
My brother, Dick, and I would head for one or the other of these two waterways after milking or on a rainy day. Night crawlers, either artificial or squiggly fresh ones lifted gently from under a crispy, sun-dried cow pie, were the bait of choice in those days. The bass loved them.
I appreciate the opportunity to fish with a genuine expert. Winters is a fly fisherman, with three fly rods encased and stored neatly on his 14-foot flat bottom boat. While the water might be too high to catch many fish this day, Winters seems unfazed. "It's about fishing which doesn't necessarily include catching any fish," he muses.
It's also about watching the kingfishers that have built nests along the high sand banks of the river. It's about a busy osprey gliding overhead with the grace of a ballerina until it spots a fish, then propelling itself into a power dive straight to the target.
At 63, Winters is like most old salts, weaving tales of bygone fishing trips to the far corners of Wisconsin, encounters with all manner of wildlife and a few life lessons along the way.
"I distinctly remember when I fell in love with bass," he says with a grin. At this, I know I'm about to soak up some imaginative talk of a singular experience told a dozen different ways to a hundred different people. It's a part of history (his), and I await the story with quiet anticipation.
"I went to work for the DNR (then Conservation Department) as an LTE on the Namakagon River in 1966," he begins. "Jerry Spaulding and I were college kids working summer jobs. But the DNR neglected to pay us for two pay periods, and the only money we had was borrowed from the landlord, our boss and some friends - they were mostly broke too."
"We fished for bass every night after work, eating fish until they got around to paying us. I've loved them ever since. I owe 'em," he concludes.
Much has changed since then, however, Winters and the Alliance promote catch and release as a way to keep bass populations at a high level. He notes technological advances that allow for a greater harvest of fish now and, according to a favorite saying, "God is definitely not a fisherman; he keeps making people and quit making rivers 10,000 years ago."
While not nearly the size of other, more well-established outdoor organizations, the approximately 75 dues-paying members of the Smallmouth Alliance are no less passionate about their calling than larger groups such as Trout Unlimited with membership in the thousands.
Winters is always in recruitment mode, however. As we return to the dock we encounter a newcomer to the area asking questions about fishing and hunting opportunities. Winters has a membership form at the ready and offers an explanation of "who we are."
The group distributes "Free the Fighter" signs around the state in appropriate places, he explained. "I got us permission from the five (DNR) district managers to put them up at boat and canoe landings owned by the state."
For an organization of this size, the amount of information available on its website and the relevant content of its monthly newsletter is remarkable. Members include several fishing guide services located at strategic locations around the state.
Learn more about the organization at wisconsinsmallmouth.com. To join the Wisconsin Smallmouth Alliance, call Mike Simon at (608) 848-3770 or Steve Winters at (608) 524-6348.
- Lee Fahrney is the Times outdoors writer. He can be reached at (608) 967-2208 or at fiveoaks@mhtc.net.
