Pond Fishing Goals

I think that everyone who regularly fishes has a local pond that they stake claim to as their own, unless they live in an area so incredibly amazing that there is no need for one (here's to you, my friends in the Florida Keys). In most places, these small ponds never really truly theirs, as these urban fishing holes are typically situated in metropolitan or suburban areas. However, when you fish a local haunt regularly and become familiar with the landscape, wildlife, and techniques that consistently produce fish you develop a different relationship with the pond. You begin to become much more involved with the health of the ecosystem, refraining from keeping wild fish and taking the time to clean up litter and dispose that of your own properly. You'll find yourself frequenting the lake just to get a few casts in or try some new techniques, not particularly caring whether you catch anything or not because you know that you'll always be able to come back and try again.

This is right about where they found that body.

For me, this lake is none other than the humble and venerable Bethany Pond, which I've written about before. Like I've said in the past, from an objective standpoint this lake is not unusually impressive. In fact, many people who I know instead prefer to refer to the Bethany as "disgusting," "a putrid mud pit," or one of many unprintable monikers that are as creative as they are vulgar. However, I still like to fish this lake. It's only ten minutes away from my house and actually is home to an astounding variety of fish species. I've caught trout, carp, bass, bluegill, pumpkinseed, warmouth, and brown bullhead catfish in the last year alone, and across all four seasons. I've also heard reports about crappie, perch, and suckers living within the lake and the creek that feeds it.

A view of the lake before sunrise. I would have to go to school in about an hour.

Despite the surprising range of biodiversity within such a small lake, most fishermen that are seen at the lake are targeting hatchery trout. A few thousand fish are typically stocked by the ODFW a few times each spring, and rarely survive into the summer months. Some fish are able to escape their weedy, muddy prison by making it to the far end of the lake and swimming into the cooler rock creek tributary it drains into, but by late spring the target typically shifts into other species.

A typical hatchery trout caught on a pair of orange Power Eggs.

To be completely honest, the fishing for most of the species that are year round residents of the lake is pretty crummy. There is supposedly a healthy bass population in the lake, but by late spring/summer the lake becomes so choked with weeds and vegetation that it becomes almost impossible to fish. I've recently caught a few nice Largemouth Bass by the concrete dam near the road on texas-rigged Senkos, but even these fish were unspectacular and not worth all the effort that I've put into catching bass in this lake. However, every time I'm about to give up on them I manage to catch a juvenile that instills hope that there are great bass to be found here.

I somehow caught this one on corn while fishing for carp.

There are also small panfish such as Bluegill and Pumpkinseeds that swarm nearly everywhere in the lake. They're all extremely tiny, to the point where I get excited if I see one that looks like it might approach four inches. However, I still like to sometimes like to spend a warm spring or summer afternoon flicking small pieces of worm under tree branches or near lily pads to try and catch some of these scrappy fish. Fishing for panfish also gives me an opportunity to try and explore other sections of the lake in the hope of finding new species. Every time my bobber twitches while fishing one of these new areas, my heart races in the hopes that I may have found one of the elusive Bethany Lake crappie or perch. However, thus far it has ended up to just be another small Bluegill every time.

As far as Bethany Pond Bluegill go, this one is quite large.

I've also noticed over the years that being an avid Bluegill fisherman becomes less societally acceptable as you grow older. When you're little, it's seen as a great way of getting into the sport by targeting small, easy to catch fishes. The image of a suntanned youth armed with a cane pole and a stringer has been indelibly embedded into American fishing culture. However, as you reach the age and size of a grown man, being found catching tiny fish while wading through densely brushed private property becomes less appropriate in the eyes of others. 

You never really notice how small a Pumpkinseed is until you take a picture with one.

When you fish a small pond as much as I fish Bethany, you start to get rather protective and attached to it. You start to look at it as "your pond," even if other people have likely been fishing it for much longer than you. You also begin to learn how much of a varied and complex ecosystem it is. In all the time I've fished this lake, I still haven't explored or thoroughly fished every cove or weed line. Of course, a good portion of the unexplored water is right by private property surrounded with barbed wire or in an area rife with stinging nettle (which I found out about the hard way) but it's still a goal for me to catch something out of every section in the lake. Maybe one day I'll get that crappie.

Until then, there's never going to be a shortage of catfish!

Although most of the fisheries in this pond are lackluster at best, there is one particular species that will bring in diehard anglers from across the state. That fish is, of course, the venerable carp. The carp fishing at Bethany Pond can be excellent, not only because of the abundant population and large sizes of these overgrown goldfish but also because of the challenge. These fish become very wary and difficult to catch in a lake as small as this pond, especially when they reach large sizes. Although many people see large carp here and try to catch them, only a few people have managed to get the really big ones. I've been lucky enough to get ones pushing the 20-25+ pound range.

I have spent innumerable hours fishing this pond for carp, and a larger percentage of those hours than I would care to admit were fruitless. I honestly think that one of the most frustrating things about carp fishing is that it revolves around heavily baiting an area and parking yourself there until a carp finds your mountain of offerings and decides to slurp up your bait. As a result, you often feel leery about changing spots because you could easily be removing yourself from an area that could become a carp feeding frenzy in five minutes. I sometimes try to maximize my efficiency by casting for bass with a second rod, but that usually requires me reeling in one of my carp rods and switching out my hair rig and corn for a worm hook and a senko. As a result, I have a 50% fewer chance of attracting and hooking a carp while I fruitlessly beat the water to a froth with my senko for imaginary bass.

My typical carp setup in action.

The best time to target carp in this lake is probably around mid spring or early fall. During the colder weather that the winter brings the carp typically become inactive and during the summer months the vast majority of the lake becomes too choked with weeds to cast, let alone hook and land a carp. Although the warmer weather attracts more small carp which can be fun to catch on light tackle, I've found that I lose an inordinate amount of fish to weeds and other snags during this time of the year. Earlier in the spring, the lake is largely absent of weeds and there is typically plenty of room to fight large carp. There are also particular spots on the lake that I consider "trophy" spots not because of any increased abundance of large fish, but because of the absence of snags that typically plague any angler trying to land a 20+ pound fish.

Note the woefully inadequate trout net that I had to borrow from a passing fisherman.

One thing you notice about carp in comparison to other fishes is the amount of slime that they produce. It's honestly ridiculous. All fish are generally pretty slimy, but carp take this to a whole new level. I remember the carp in the photo above very vividly, as by the time I was done wrestling him to the bank and working the hook out nearly everything within a ten foot radius had become coated with a thin film of slime, and the fish still had plenty to spare. I carefully released/shoved the fish back into the lake so he could go back into his home and make some more slime.

Although lakes such as Bethany Pond are markedly unimpressive, it's important to remember that what determines the greatness a spot has far less to do with the size and number of the fish that dwell within and has far more to do with the memories that one associates with it. This might sound like a corny modern rewording of something out of a Henry David Thoreau novel, but it stands true nevertheless. In a world where an increasing degree of emphasis is being placed upon traveling to faraway locales and tangling with exotic game fish, it's important to remember that one can gain an experience just as worthwhile in your neighborhood pond. The fish might be carp and stocked trout instead of tarpon and marlin and whatever else you might find yourself catching abroad, but at the very end of the day I've found that these carp and stocked trout have remained in my mind as indelibly as any other fish I've caught. As a result, my advice to the reader remains this: regardless of your skill level, or where you live, or amount of income, fishing can be found anywhere. It isn't about necessarily being on the cover of saltwater sportsman or catching any world records. It's about one of the simplest and most ancient interactions in human history: a fish, a person, and everything that surrounds the two.