This past week brought more than it’s fair share of unexpected turbulence, and I cut out midday Friday to explore a bit of new water in nearby New York State. I hadn’t done much warmwater fishing of late; a few carp here and there, but really no bass or panfish this year. Drove to a small town, hiked in along a long line of railroad tracks, slid down a steep bank and emerged on the other side, ready to explore some promising water.
What the hell, I figured.
I’d not fished here and while there were a few carp around they were cruising and not really mudding for food, so I tied on a popper and waded out, casting to the dim shadows of structure along the far bank. Prospecting. First cast: strip—strip—BAM. Line was singing off the reel. I’d forgotten how fun bass are; they put up a good fight and the steady feel of a run and tug on the end of my fly line was just what I needed while I did a bit of mental triage.
Sometimes fishing is the answer.
I had a piece on the ethics of fishing over redds come out in the latest issue of American Angler. The intention of the article was to get folks thinking; any piece of writing does its job if it informs and then gets people questioning their own practices. This one has generated an unexpected volley of emails and chatter. I’ve had a few folks be rather vocally pissed about it, but far more seem to be glad the topic was brought up. And while I couldn’t voice my own opinion in the article—journalism and all—I’m taking the opportunity to do so here.
Don’t do it. Don’t fish over redds.
Think about it this way… we fish because it’s a release; it’s fun and relaxing and, just like noted above, it lets us sort through the rest of the stuff life throws at us. I’ve seen anglers witlessly standing on a redd while trying to “catch a pig” they can post on Instagram, either not knowing or not caring that they are stepping on the next generation. Think end game here, guys. You want your kids to have shots at good, strong, healthy fish? Hell, you want to be casting to good fish ten, fifteen, twenty years down the road? Leave the redds alone and let the fish do their thing.
It’s that simple.
