A GIANT Leap for Kevinkind

Years ago, in 1982, I bought a Raleigh Competition GS.  It was an aluminum-framed racing bicycle.  At the time, I rode my bicycle everywhere. My previous stock Peugeot was a beautiful bike, but a clunker on tour and for racing. I bought the Raleigh from a bike dealer in Wheaton, IL for around $400.

My parents thought that I should have my head examined, but I earned the cash and wanted to throw down.

I ride the thing occasionally on distance rides and recently honked out a 102 mile ride, keeping in stride with a local bike group most of the way.  Afterwards, I finally admitted that it is time to up the ante and take advantage of the new technology.

Me and My New Bicycle- Giant Defy Advanced 3

Something Attractive About Defiance.

After shopping out bicycles I made my choice.  I bought a Giant Advanced Defy 3, a full-carbon fiber frame that is ultra light and super responsive.  This high-performance machine cost me more than the total I spent on all of my cars from 1989 to 1998.

The thing is like a rocket.  Fast, responsive, quick.  I can zip up a hill like it is not even there and roll for miles with a few good pumps on the pedals.  Effortless.

With this, I can keep up with every group I ride with, riding 25 and 53 mile rides in the last week.

New technology pays great dividends and makes the chore of being a 40-something bike dork not nearly as painful.

Dallus Creek- revisited

Since my last post in May I've been two Dallus Creek three times.  The fishing has been okay, the weather nasty each time, and I've been without a camera even though every single electronic device I own has one.

Yesterday I was out there with my friend Brian in his Gheenoe.  Nice to not have to paddle.  I caught a mid-20's trout and a big bluefish in a few feet of water over the weeds.  Tides were not on our side and once the tide slacked all we saw were lizardfish.

The advantage of the Gheenoe was that we had an opportunity to explore.  The last time out I discovered an abundance of sandy potholes on the west side of the bay.  It seemed that while the center and east were just monotonous grassy flats, the west side had more contour and potentially better fishing.

With the benefit of power we explored these expanses before heading in for the day.  As we fished some of those holes, I noticed motion in the water in the seagrass near the shore.  I drove the Gheenoe closer with an electric trolling motor and Brian casted with perfect precision.  Redfish.

These areas were holding reds in minimal water, all under two feet.  They were easily spooked, but easily located in other places.  The weeds and adjacent flat was ripe with evidence of reds, mullet and jillions of baitfish.

I didn't get one in the boat, mostly because we had to leave and didn't work an area too hard.  I also was using a gold spoon/spinner that has horrendous hook-up potential.  Fish hit it, and don't get hooked.  It is like drinking decaf or non-alcoholic beer-- a real bummer.

However, I learned something new.  A new spot and the need to develop new tools.  Weedless, gold, and loaded with hooks.  I'm going back soon.

Dallus Creek, 5/23/2010

The last few days out have been pretty rough.  Minimal fishing and wind that won't stop.  When I saw that calm waters were predicted for last Sunday morning I knew I wanted to get out with the exclusive mission of fishing.

I went to Dallus Creek, an excellent spot in Taylor County, FL.  It's about 10 miles northwest of Steinhatchee, so it is not a trivial trip.  I put in and the waters were still, the sun was rising, and everything was beautiful.

I

They say "Take a picture, it'll last longer".  If the oil comes this way we'll loose this amazing resource. It has managed to remain pristine to this point...

 I paddled about 40 minutes to deeper water. Most of the delta is a 2 foot weedy flat, but you don't have to go that far to find deeper water.  I worked the 4-9 foot holes and the wind was working with me.  I could paddle for 10 minutes and get a 30 minute drift over prime water.

Fishing with shrimp and poppin corks was the trick. I tried topwaters and spoons, but there is so much debris on the water it makes for more salad harvest and less fishing.  The pinfish were out in droves.  Still, I caught 5 trout, 3 legal, 2 short.  I also hooked into three small catfish, a ladyfish, a grunt, and the shark in the video below.



Overall, a good day on the water.  I was not out there long and at least watched a bobber disappear every few minutes.

Dra. Pombo and Monkey Island 4/30/2010

I had the pleasure of hosting Dra. Marina Pombo in my laboratory.  She was visiting from Argentina and I always wanted to pry her away from her work so she could see Florida's Nature Coast from a kayak.  Unfortunately I had to rent one, so we were stuck with the cities and business hours.

We went to Cedar Key.  Even though winds were marginal in Gainesville, they were whipping in Cedar Key to the point where we could not realistically push out and have a good time.  I called Kayak Rivers Sports in Homosassa and things were not so bad there, so we went down for a day of paddling.

We rented a kayak and went out on the river.  While I was fired up about getting to the Gulf, the people at the rental place suggested going the other direction.

Marina and Roxy take five near Monkey Island.

Overall it was fine for the reason.  Lots of boat traffic, crowded shores, people running too close with people on innertubes... it was like being in Minocqua, WI on July 4.  Fishing was silly, but I did see some Florida gar, so I took a few casts before giving up.

We did spend a few minutes getting photos by Monkey Island, cleverly named because of the monkey population.

 The monkey population of Monkey Island is bored, angry and poised to kill.  This large male was trying to figure out how to kill me and take my kayak so that he could escape captivity.

Mission accomplished.  Marina had a good time and experienced some of Florida by boat.

Roxy's New Kayak 4/11/2010

Roxanne enjoyed the few times out that we rented so I took the plunge and bought her a kayak.  It was a short study to identify that the Wilderness Kayak Tarpon 120 was the one to get.  At 12 feet long it is not nearly as unwieldy as my X-Factor.  The other clear difference is the innovation.  The hatches can be opened with one hand.  The latches are easy and secure.  The seat is adjustable and super comfortable.  Most of all, it doesn't weigh a ton like my X-Factor, so it was fast and maneuverable.

Our first trip was to Cedar Key.  Every time we go out there it is windy and awful.  Today was no exception, but we went for it.

The wind was out of the southwest, and it was high tide, so we simply circled the keys.  It was a six mile journey and some parts pretty rough.  The wind made it all a battle.

I fished minimally and was too busy screwing with a boat in unproductive fishing waters to do anything realistically.

Still, it was fun to see Roxy out in a kayak and sort of having a good time.

Cow Creek and Pepperfish Keys

If you are looking to read a great story about by battle royale with fish of fable and song, then you are going to be richly disappointed.  Instead, this is a story about access, a blog entry that details what nobody really details on the web- the mythical lore of Cow Creek.  On a cold and blustery day in February Brian and I loaded up the kayaks and headed out in search of the pepperfish, a creature not unlike the Skunk Ape known to inhabit this remote area of the Sunshine State.

 

Not a lot of pepperfish or cows, but loads of pelicans

Cow Creek is the place almost at the end of "The Road to Nowhere", the road that constitutes the left fork from Casey's at the blinking yellow light in Jena, Florida.  Take that left fork, don't go fast into the turns, and drive until you can't go any further.  Go back about .5 miles and that's Cow Creek.  Paddle out a bunch and you are within the Pepperfish Keys.

There are no cows by Cow Creek, just a lot of spent shotgun shells, beer cans and used condoms.  My guess is that the tide takes these out to sea in a nightly cleansing of the littered boat launch area, so this redneck holiday was probably left over from last night.  If you draw a good snootful you can almost smell the crystal meth and B.O..  Good times.

To call it a primitive boat ramp is an insult to the primitive peoples, as this is basically a gravel path to the water on the south side of the bridge.  The water is super shallow (maybe six inches to a foot at low tide) right in the launch area, so you are getting a kayak in there and that's about it.  A canoe or jonboat is strictly high tide passage.  Even in sit-on-top kayaks there was a lot of walking.

Brian and I were out there after low tide and we wormed our way to Pepperfish Keys.  This is an allegedly great spot because it is far from Steinhatchee and far from Horseshoe Beach, so nobody goes there.  Undisturbed water.

We put the kayaks in a did a lot of wading.  The air temperature was in the forties with 55 degree water, so it was damn cold to get parts wet.  Luckily we didn't get sack deep or I'd still be singin like Isobel Baillie.

It was a short paddle out of the creek and it was surprisingly wide and reasonably deep (2 feet). Once we got out there I was excited to see the structure of the creek delta- large weedy shallow flats with deep cuts, some down to seven feet at low-ish tide.  The islands carried sun-warmed shallows and loads of oyster bars, so zipping through there on a boat is the kiss of death.

We worked against a stout 15 mph wind all day and it was a battle.  You'd get to drift on prime spots for a few minutes and were back in shallows.  I had a few pinfish bites in the deep holes on a jig and did hook one small flounder, so it was not a total wipeout.  No pepperfish, so there goes my high hopes of the condiment slam.

My guess is that we were in the right place at the wrong time.  I absolutely will go back on a calm day, or even more likely once the days heat up.  I think high tide out there will be fantastic, especially once spring starts to warm that chilly water.

Dumb and Frozen

If you are searching for a great kayak fishing story with incredible fishing outcomes, don't read further.  If you are interested in reading about the dysfunction that occurs in the human brain when deprived of connection with something outside of the home and office, read on.

I had not been out on the kayak since November, but every week I planned to go.  Something always got in the way, a grant proposal for work, an obligation in town, personal or professional travel.  Something always. The other hindrance is that I didn't have a carrier for my new truck.

Last week both problems  were solved as I shipped off a huge grant proposal and got my new carrier in via ebay.  Ready to roll...

Of course the weather doesn't cooperate.  Saturday was endless rain, ofentimes severe.  Sunday promised to be brutal with cold and wind.  In my great wisdom I chose to brave the latter.  After all, it was the last day of trout season and I thought I knew exactly where they were.

I drove to Steintachee and put in at the Jenna boat ramp.  The air temp was 39°F, but most notable was a stiff breeze with occasional gusts coming from the east.  I mounted the kayak, getting both feet soaked in sockless rubber diving shoes. I had two sweatshirts and snowpants on, so I got good and toasty on the paddle out.  I ventured west, carried by strong wind, current and an outgoing tide, achieving over 5 mph.

At that rate I was to primo fishing waters in 10 minutes. Of course, I blew right over the best spots and didn't mark a thing on the locator.  The water temps rose from 43 at launch to the mid 50's so it was a good trend for fishing. However, when I tried to anchor the wind would blow me off of each spot.  The wind grew in intensity and it was impossible to control a bait.

One freezing gloomy gray day in Florida and I had to fish in it.

 After about an hour my wet feet and hands started to get cold, really cold, like they would get when I'd spend 12 hours ice fishing.  They were past sore and numb.  After 4 hours I paddled back against a firm wind  (the waves now forming whitecaps) and the river's current.  It was impossible to stop paddling and rest because I'd blow backwards, negating any gains.

When I got back to the boat ramp I got out of the kayak and could barely walk.  It felt like my feet had been amputated and I was walking on stumps.  It was really difficult to balance.  I got to my truck, lost the wet aqua socks and cranked up the heater, full blast.

After 10 minutes my feet went from numb to tingling to pins-and-needles pain, and back to normal.

I loaded up and left.

This adventure easily fit into the Top 50 Dumbest Things I Ever Did, which is no small feat.   I'm guessing it was somewhere between lighting myself on fire for a videotape and doing something I can't remember and then waking up in dirt behind a church in Manitowoc WI.
 
On the other hand it shows how badly I wanted to go.