Saturday I loaded up my Kayak and headed North to the Stubblefield recreation area on Lake Conroe. I wanted to test out the new fin on my pedal drive after the Llano trip. I’d never been, but figured boat traffic would be lighter on the North end of the lake. I got there a little after sunrise and there was a good fog just lifting. I dropped my kayak and got on the water after enjoying some boat ramp entertainment.

Luckily I missed the drama myself. I saw a few boats on the water, couple kayakers. Everyone else was courteous and the traffic was light enough for a Saturday. I started hitting the lily pads right away with a frog popper on my 5 wt and nailed a small bluegill right away. I was surprised and thought the fishing might go better than I expected. However, after that I missed one take, and the top water went cold. There were lots of large splashes from fishing hitting the surface behind me in the center of the water.

I switched to a larger cone head streamer. On my second cast I felt a deep slow gulp take my fly. I strip set the hook once, twice and started stripping the fish towards me, I thought. As soon as the fish was at the edge of the kayak just lower than I could see, it turned, my rod started to bow, and instantly the line was slack. A clean take of my fresh new fly. I presume it was a large, inconsiderate, gar that took my fly right off the tippet clean.

I saw several larger gar hitting the surface after that. Lesson learned, stick to the banks when that’s on the surface. I started to move further up stream and saw a good size gator a few hundred feet ahead. I made my way into a tighter passage out of the wind, away from the gator, and tried to find some bass. With the vegetation overgrowing the edge of the water it was seemingly impossible to get my fly close enough to provoke a fish. I inspected several lily pads and tree branches to verify my hypothesis.

I tried top water, bead head wooly buggers, and zonkers to try to get the attention of the LMB I knew were in the area, none with any success. Maybe the fish were less interested in my fly since the spawn had already occurred. I saw several large schools of bass smaller than my pinky moving in the tighter water. I lost track of another gator when I was in the tight water and it smacked the surface about 20′ feet behind me to let me know I should move.

Over the course of the morning I saw at least two dozen gar, and nothing else worth writing home about. After noon, the wind was picking up and I decided to pack it in. Next time I’ll come back with a full sink line instead of a floating line. I have a suspicion I was not in the feeding column in many parts of the area. 

Grant