S
Slick
True story.
Champagnolle Creek (It's French, pronounced "Sham pan ole") empties into the Ouachita River (It's Indian, pronounced "Washitaw") in South Arkansas. It wanders through the river bottoms and is filled with bass, cypress trees, Spanish moss, mosquitoes and water moccasins. This creek would be called a river up here in Oregon. And where it went there was nobody for miles around.
I put in at the mouth of Champagnolle Creek around 4 PM one Spring afternoon. The water was way up due to seasonally high waters but was falling fast. I had just purchased a new 15 hp Yamaha outboard for my little 12’ aluminum jon boat. It was a little over-powered but man it would fly. The transom was pretty thin but if you tightened the transom screws down as hard as you could it was “pretty snug”. I knew I should have a safety chain on there but the motor was new and the fish were biting. I didn’t have time for that.
I motored wide open for miles up the narrow creek to a spot that had a slough coming into the creek. This slough had a beaver dam across it and created a small lake behind the dam. During normal water this slough would be just a dry wash off the side of the creek. However, from past experiences I knew that the water level was just right for catching bass as the receding water poured through a small break in the beaver dam as the little lake drained back into the creek. Bass would stack up on the creek side of the dam and wait for food to come washing through the cut in the dam.
Fishing was good as I had predicted and I stayed until I had my limit. As I cranked up to go I noticed that it was starting to get dark. I was going to have to hurry if I was going to get back to my Jeep before dark. I rode up on plane as fast as the 15 hp would push me. The little motor was wound out as high as it would go when suddenly I felt a jolt that ran all through the boat.
Here it is. My buddy spelled Champagnolle wrong. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9NPtjp8Ss4
More later..........
Champagnolle Creek (It's French, pronounced "Sham pan ole") empties into the Ouachita River (It's Indian, pronounced "Washitaw") in South Arkansas. It wanders through the river bottoms and is filled with bass, cypress trees, Spanish moss, mosquitoes and water moccasins. This creek would be called a river up here in Oregon. And where it went there was nobody for miles around.
I put in at the mouth of Champagnolle Creek around 4 PM one Spring afternoon. The water was way up due to seasonally high waters but was falling fast. I had just purchased a new 15 hp Yamaha outboard for my little 12’ aluminum jon boat. It was a little over-powered but man it would fly. The transom was pretty thin but if you tightened the transom screws down as hard as you could it was “pretty snug”. I knew I should have a safety chain on there but the motor was new and the fish were biting. I didn’t have time for that.
I motored wide open for miles up the narrow creek to a spot that had a slough coming into the creek. This slough had a beaver dam across it and created a small lake behind the dam. During normal water this slough would be just a dry wash off the side of the creek. However, from past experiences I knew that the water level was just right for catching bass as the receding water poured through a small break in the beaver dam as the little lake drained back into the creek. Bass would stack up on the creek side of the dam and wait for food to come washing through the cut in the dam.
Fishing was good as I had predicted and I stayed until I had my limit. As I cranked up to go I noticed that it was starting to get dark. I was going to have to hurry if I was going to get back to my Jeep before dark. I rode up on plane as fast as the 15 hp would push me. The little motor was wound out as high as it would go when suddenly I felt a jolt that ran all through the boat.
Here it is. My buddy spelled Champagnolle wrong. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9NPtjp8Ss4
More later..........
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