Fall is the Best Time to Fish

By: Nick Harrington

If you talk to an angler long enough, you’ll often hear the story of the one that got away. By the time the story is over, you’ll think they had hooked up with easily a state record, if not a world record. It will often feature a catastrophic event that through no fault of the angler the goliath was able to slip the hook and continue to steal bait for another day. While I have plenty of stories like that, this particular fish ended another way.

It was my freshman year of college at South Dakota State University in Brookings. I had just moved from my hometown of Gretna, Nebraska, which is located just outside of Omaha. According to the university I was pursuing a Wildlife and Fisheries degree, but the real story is I was just pursuing the wildlife and fish of South Dakota. I was in awe of the outdoor opportunities the area had to offer. While I called it “field work,” my grades didn’t reflect my self-assigned “projects.”

Some low marks didn’t bother me much. I was busy exploring a new lake every day and everywhere I went the fishing seemed to be better than the previous waterbody. The spectacular walleye fishing I had heard about was just as advertised and I saw deer, pheasants and ducks everywhere I went. 

Not only was South Dakota itself spoiling me, but the fishing was too. Fall is one of the best times to go fishing, especially if you are a shore angler like I was. The water temperatures are cooling, the abundance of forage from summer is starting to run low and the fish feel the urge to “put on the feed bags” before a long winter. All these factors combined make for some of the best fishing of the year, wherever you may be fishing.

I was looking for areas that had rocks, weeds and depth changes. The weeds are going to be what hold your forage. If you’re looking for bluegill, perch or crappie these are often going to have some fish in them. When you combine weeds and rocks, you have a stellar combination. The rocks offer places to small fish to hide from predators and the rocks also provide heat as the water temperatures cool. As the nights got colder and the days got shorter, these rocks would capture heat from the sun during the day and I could see the eyes of walleye shining back at me once the sun had gone down.

The most important factor was if the wind was right. In South Dakota, wind drives the fishing. A good “walleye chop” often results in a successful day fishing. The waves break up the sunlight penetration and also can displace those little fish that are attempting to hide in the rocks. This can make walleye fishing excellent, even in the middle of sunny days.

It was late-October, Hobo Day weekend actually. I had fished 28 days out of September, with only two stormy days preventing me from hitting the water. The passing of my grandma at the beginning of the month had reduced the amount of time I had been on the water, but I was bound and determined to end the month on a high note.

I had narrowed my efforts to a specific lake not far from Brookings. While I had tangled with and lost (cue world record fish sob story) some nice fish I hadn’t had the success I was hoping for. I got to the lake about 5 p.m. I did not plan to fish too hard and only brought one rod. All I took to my spot was my net, rod and a pair of pliers. I could always walk back to my pick up if I lost my crankbait, but I wouldn’t be changing anything unless it broke.

From the time I pulled into the lake, I had a funny feeling. Not the one that follows the morning of Hobo Day, but one that felt like my past week’s struggles were going to turn around. There was a decent wind from a favorable direction, but still wasn’t exactly what I wanted. I figured I would have a nice little wait until “prime time” began as the sun set.

I thought I had an hour or so to wait before fishing really took off, so I was doing what I’m so often guilty of, mindlessly casting. I didn’t have a specific location I was trying to hit or a special retrieve; just cast, reel, repeat. I had the spot to myself too. Bird hunters were out, archery deer was in full force and the nearest anglers to me were well away from me. I had only fished for about ten minutes when I hit what I thought was a snag. “Great,”  I thought. “What’s out there to snag on?” Then the snag shook its head and started swimming. “This is the one,” I thought to myself. I was reeling, but I wasn’t getting very far. I had hooked this fish right on the start of my retrieve, so I had a ways to go before I could land it. 

Fish have no care for your personal feelings, so it decided to surface for just the slightest second to confirm my suspicions. It was indeed, a giant walleye. This of course forced my adrenaline level to new heights not yet achieved. The end to my quest had bit, but the real challenge was just beginning.

I did my best to calm and focus myself. I didn’t do very well. I was gaining ground on the fish, but I wasn’t in range to net it just yet. I was by myself, so I was going to have to reel and net this fish myself. No worries, I’ve done this countless times before. I  got  it close enough that I felt confident letting go of the rod with one hand and reaching for the net.

It was at this point, the fish decided to win. It went on a powerful run in a last  ditch effort to be a world record sob story. In a situation like this, anglers should let the rod do its job and let the fish take some drag. I did not, I jerked back. SNAP! My rod decided it no longer wanted to be involved in the situation and promptly snapped in half. “It’s over,” I thought. “I blew it.”

All of the sudden I nearly got hit in the eye by my rod tip. It wasn’t over. The rod had snapped, but the line was still intact. The fish was mad as ever, but still hooked right in the corner of the mouth. Relieved, confused and horrified I did the first thing I could think of. I pulled on the remaining chunk of the rod and lifted high above my head. Rod tip going in every direction, I slipped my net  under the would-be biggest walleye of my angling career and pulled it onto the shore. 

I’m not sure how long the ordeal lasted or what exactly I said, but I had drawn the attention of the other anglers on the bank. Though they were way far away, I am guessing my minor (let’s call it that) swearing when the rod broke was enough to attract their attention. Without a rod, my fishing was done for the night. That was fine by me.

I loaded the remaining parts of my gear in the pick up and the fish was busting out of a five gallon bucket. As luck would have it, one of the Hobo Day visitors I had met was a taxidermist in Indiana. He had a big enough cooler we could lay the fish flat, I wrapped a towel around it and we loaded it with ice. He had the mount done by Thanksgiving and the friend he was visiting in Brookings brought it back with him for the start of our spring semester when we he went home from the holidays.

What made this fish story different than most, was that I could confirm it was true! I  had the fish.  I had the broken rod. My crankbait was shredded. It was the complete opposite of the world record sob stories we are so accustomed to hearing and telling! Fall had always been my favorite time to fish, but since this day I look forward to October every year more than any other month. The fishing is great, get out and make your own memories this fall!