 
Minneapolis
Star Tribune Outdoors Section
August 11, 1999
Schara: St. Croix is the
place for smallmouths
A rare fishing
event happened the other day: I took my own
advice.
And, lordy, this
time it was the right thing to do.
As I've written,
a river can be a good August fishing hot spot;
that was the case last week.
Even in high
water.
The Upper St.
Croix was rolling pretty swiftly, its
tea-colored water spilling over the river's
grassy banks and covering rocky rapids with
churning water.
At first glance,
my fishing companions were dismayed. Tim
Holschlag, a veteran river guide, said the
rising water levels and dropping water
temperatures could be a one-two punch for
smallmouth bass.
Bill Planton of
Rochester grimaced at the current's speed.
"This will be a good test for my
canoe," he said.
Indeed.
We planned to
drift a 5-mile stretch with Planton's River
Ridge Canoe, a fiberglass craft designed for
fishing. The River Ridge, made in Rochester,
features a stable canoe hull, swivel seats and a
stern that allows paddling or use of an electric
trolling motor.
As it turned out,
the battery-powered electric allowed us to hold
the canoe and cast to fishy spots, despite the
swift current.
We also had
another valuable fishing aid: Tim Holschlag. The
guy lives for smallmouth bass. He thinks, talks,
reads, argues and rejoices for smallies. Years
ago, Holschlag was instrumental in launching the
Smallmouth Alliance, a group of anglers
determined to improve the life and times for
smallmouth and those who pursue them.
"I tend to
be opinionated," he said, grinning. Yes,
he'd rather take one smallie on a top-water
popper than a whole bunch any other way. When
you fish with Holschlag, don't bring worms.
So down the river
we flew -- all wondering what smallmouths the
St. Croix might yield under such high-water
conditions.
At first blush,
the action was so slow there wasn't any. I
pitched a yellow popper with a No. 7 weight
flyrod, but no bass takers appeared. Holschlag
suggested a switch to a chartreuse spinnerbait.
It was the right thing to do. The first bass was
small but a welcomed sight.
By mid-day, the
sun had heated up a few things, including the
action. Suddenly, more and bigger smallies were
jumping on the spinnerbait. Nice bass, 14-to
17-inchers.
Shortly before
noon, Planton pulled into an eddy and cast a
clown-colored floating Rapala toward the edge
where the slack water hits the current.
Bang. Oh, jumping
jeepers.
Planton caught
the largest bass of the day, a dandy 20-incher.
That's huge in a river. Correction, that's huge
almost anywhere. And so it went. All afternoon.
Bass after bass. Not fast, just steady.
"Yes, I'm
surprised at the fish we're catching, but if the
river was lower I think it would be even
better," Holschlag said.
I was surprised
at the large size of smallmouths, the 15-to
17-inchers.
"You didn't
see those big smallmouth that often until the
special rules went into effect," Holschlag
said, referring to rules imposed by Minnesota
and Wisconsin that require releasing Upper St.
Croix smallmouth under 14 inches.
Whatever the
cause, the effect was a trip that could tire an
angler's fish-fighting arm. A smallmouth doesn't
know the meaning of quit, you see.
So take my
advice. Pump iron before you hit the St. Croix.
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