Provo River Return

In my most recent post, I looked back on a cross-country fishing/blogging trek I did with one of my boys 11 years ago. That post reminded me of one of our favorite stops — the Provo River in Utah — and of a brief return to the Provo with my daughter Autumn a couple of years ago.

Autumn and I also made it all the way to the Pacific Coast by car, but our trip was mostly vacation, and the primary objective was to see the world’s largest trees (sequoias), tallest trees (redwoods) and oldest trees (bristlecone pines). We had time for a couple of fishing stops, and the Provo was close enough to a possible route home that I couldn’t resist a return visit.

Good that we stopped. The river was substantially more crowded than it had been nine years earlier, and we struggled a little initially to find decent looking spots where we weren’t stepping in too close to where someone else was fishing. We ended up finding a nice section down a trail, though, and thick-bodied brown trout were plentiful and willing to play I didn’t count, but we caught a lot of trout, and most were good ones!

Trout in the Provo mostly see flies, and our Rebel Tracdown Minnows and Crawfish prompted a lot of action from feeding brown trout.

My experience with Asher on the Trout Trek had been similar. I’m pretty sure we caught more fish and better fish from the Provo than anywhere else on the trip — and in both cases, most fish were brown trout. We also caught most of our trout on Tracdown Minnows. The biggest difference was that he and I had far less competition from other anglers.

I’d first learned about the Provo River from a friend who had gone to school at Brigham Young, which is located in Provo, Utah. The best waters were only a half hour from campus (and some areas even closer), so it was an easy escape for him. At the time, the Provo’s trout-filled waters were largely undiscovered, and the few other anglers who used the he river mostly fly-fished. Like what Asher, Autumn and I found (except to an even greater extent, I’d guess) the trout would readily attack his lures.

The Provo is no longer a hidden gem, but it remains a gem. I’d head that way tomorrow if it wasn’t 1,896 miles from my house!

 

 

Remembering the Trout Trek

A Facebook memory reminded me that 11 years ago today, my dining room table was covered with gear that would somehow have to fit in my Ford Fiesta hatchback. My son Asher and I were preparing to drive across the country to fish for trout, shoot photos and blog.

Asher, who was 10 at the time, had never been outside of the Eastern Time Zone prior to the Rebel Trout Track. By the end of the journey, which spanned about four weeks, we had logged nearly 7,000 miles. The farthest we got from home (Georgia) was the Pacific Coast in Olympic National Park in Washington. 

We fished in nine different states, with all except Arkansas being in the West, fishing many types of waters but always with trout as our primary targets. We fished all public waters, fished by wading, on the bank or by float tube, and went with no guides.

We fished iconic waters known best as fly fishing destinations, using spinning tackle and a DIY approach. Each day we blogged and sent a photo gallery for Rebel Lures social media.

Asher and I sometimes revisit the trip mentally, talking about favored fishing stops and various cool things we saw along the way — and of course daydreaming about doing it again. Although it’s unlikely we can ever recreate anything quite as extensive as the Trout Trek, I do hope some day we can fish some of those waters together again.

My daughter Autumn and I fished one of my favorite Trout Trek spots — the Provo River in Utah — a couple of years ago, but that story is probably another blog for about time.

Always a Rod & Reel Nearby

 

The photo above of me as a teen wasn’t from a fishing trip. Not something planned as a fishing trip anyway. I know by the dock shape it was taken at the Circle F Dude Ranch in Central Florida, which means it was from a retreat with my church youth group. 

Retreats always had full agendas, packed with meeting times, games, horseback riding, meals, chores, etc. Too much unstructured time with a bus load of middle schoolers and high schoolers doesn’t tend to lead to good things. Therefore, I probably didn’t have much time to fish. I can say with near certainty, though, that nearly every minute I had free that weekend was spent on that dock or along the shore, casting a plastic worm or some other lure.

I do remember catching some bass at the Circle F Dude Ranch. I don’t know if it was that day or even that trip. We went there a few times. That never mattered. If I was allowed to tote a rod on a retreat,  Scoit campout, church picnic, family vacation, or anywhere else, I always did, and I fished as long and as often as I could get away with. 

I remember that at our region’s Scout camp there was one very short dock where I could stand and fish, and realistically maybe four or five different casting angles, and I would stand in that one spot and cast for as long as the leaders would let me.

One weekend Scout trip, I wasn’t allowed to bring a rod because of space limitations. So instead I carried a spool of line and a Lazy Ike, and I repeatedly pitched it my lure out and retrieved it hand over hand. I’m pretty sure I didn’t catch anything with that method!

At every church picnic, I scrambled to the lakeshore upon arrival, fished until I was called to the potluck line, gobbled down some food, and scurried back to the lake until it was time to go home.

Not long ago my daughter and I were looking at photos from my high school yearbooks. She was amused because in two different years’ yearbook staff group shot, I was holding a fishing rod. Just me, for no obvious reason, in staff photos taken at the school. I couldn’t tell her why I had a rod and reel in both photos, but I also wasn’t surprised.

The year I was Student Life editor, that section had a Fishing spread. I don’t think that’s really the norm!

It seems some things don’t really change. I’ve just returned from a week on the coast as a 4H adult leader at a summer camp. Although I pretty much knew there would be no opportunity to fish, I still toted my travel rod, a reel and a small lure selection. As suspected, I never broke out the rod, but I had it along, just in case!

Double Delight Fish Catches

 

“Double!” my buddy Jeff called out while I was reeling in a Bartram’s bass. I looked over and saw that indeed, he too was fighting a fish. Soon after, we had our only double of the day in hand. After a couple of quick photos, we slipped them back the water.

Neither was the biggest fish of the day, and they were two of quite a few. Jeff had even caught and released a more significant bass, which would count as his Bartram’s bass for the Georgia Bass Slam.

There’s something about doubling up with a fishing buddy that’s extra fun. From my perspective, it’s even more fun than catching two fish at once on a tandem rig or a YUMbrella.

I cannot say it quote beats doubling up by catching two fish at once on the same lure - something I’ve managed only a few times over the years. My favorite of those was a pair of peacock bass in the Amazon River basin that got hooked on opposite ends of a big topwater lure.

While crappie and white bass fishing, I’ve also been a part of a few double doubles, with a buddy and I both catching fish on both jigs of a tandem rig.

I’ve also been on a pier or boat when three or more anglers were hooked up at once — several, on a couple of occasions, on party boats. That’s getting away from doubles, though, and might be another story for another time.

A Spot I Wish I Could Have Fished

This spot remains in my mind  a few years after having taken this photo. It looked so good for fishing and like a reasonable amount of water could be reached by wading. My buddy and I hadn’t toted our rods, though and going back for them just didn’t quite make sense.

It was a video filming trip for work, and we were both in unfamiliar country. We’d stopped at a river access listed on a map, and had started following a footpath toward the river. The path turned into and a fire road/trail and continued much farther than expected. A creek paralleled the trail, so we knew we were walking toward the river. It was simply farther than expected or we probably would have carried at least some basic gear in the first place (or passed on the spot completely).

We’d committed enough to want to make it to the river, so we continued walking for somewhere around 20 minutes, I’d guess..

When we finally reach the river, we found a spot that was beautiful and that looked like a great place to fish but that looked like challenging wading to be done with expensive camera gear - and in truth it wasn’t a great fit what we wanted to film.

As much as we were both intrigued by the fishing potential, it really didn’t make sense to add 20 minutes to walk to his truck, 20 minutes to walk back to the river and 20 minutes back out just to sample rhe fishing, especially when we still needed to find our next filming spot. 

So we left the river behind, and for me at least it left a bit of a hole and a curiosity that remains today.

The area is a solid four hours from where I live, so it isn’t just a handy return trip, and I haven’t found myself back in the area since that trip.That said, there is a lot of cool stuff in the general area of the spot, and I could easily see planning a fishing trip in the area rhat includes a hike in to that spot.

If that happens it seems likely I’ll end up with a story to tell, but I suppose I’m getting ahead of myself with that notion!

Trash Day by the Lake

Thursday morning found me walking the bank of a small lake not far from home. That’s not unusual. What was vastly different for me was that I was not there to fish. Instead I spent the morning and the first part of the afternoon picking up trash left by other anglers.

I’d like to claim that was just an idea I had and how I chose to spent my day. It was actually my job that day because the company I work for — PRADCO-Fishing — chose to support and participate in a national fishing-industry-wide waterway cleanup effort that took place throughout National Boating & Fishing Week.

The Million-Pound Challenge, established by the American Sportfishing Association, brought together fishing tackle manufacturers, retailers, fisheries and land management agencies and individuals to pick up trash along waterways all over the United States.

PRADCO, which owns and operates top fishing lure brands like YUM, Rebel, Heddon and Bobby Garland, made it every employee’s job to pick up trash around a waterway last Thursday. Most folks participated in coordinated group clean-ups at sites scattered around Fort Smith, Arkansas, where the company is based. Remote employees (which includes me) selected a local site to clean.

I picked Nancytown Lake and Lake Russell on the Chattahoochee National Forest. Nancytown is a small lake where trout get stocked early in the season. It gets a lot of bank fishing use and some canoe and kayak access. Lake Russell, which just down the creek from Nancytown is 100-acre lake that gets some bank fishing use but also has a ramp for small boats.

I figured key areas around both could use some cleanup, and I was correct. My total trash haul was just a little more than 14 pounds, but that was 14 pounds of small, light stuff like snack wrappers, lure packaging, worm cups, drink cans and cigarettes, and it ended up forming a bulging bag.

I was talking with a friend about the nationwide effort, and as important as the actual total of trash picked up last week might be the added awareness for participants and observers. I know it made me think more. I always take away my own trash, and literally don’t recall ever consciously littering. However, I’m not so good about picking up other stuff I when I’m out fishing - even when doing so would be easy. I’ll try to work on that!

Bait?

Bass bait! I won’t claim the thought didn’t go through my mind. When I caught a little shiner while bream fishing with my son at his pond, I naturally wondered what might happen if I re-hooked the shiner on a larger hook and pitched it back by the dock or near a shoreline bush.

I used to do that with other golden shiners at a creek near my house while I was growing up. It was fun, and I recall a bit of extra pride that came from catching fish on another fish I had also caught by rod and reel.

As luck would have it for the shiner, I only had the one light rod, which was rigged with a 1/48-ounce jig that had a No. 8 hook. It wasn’t worth hanging onto the baitfish and tying on a bigger hook — and my rod wouldn’t really have been suited for the job. 

So the shiner, which was a new species for me in 2026, got away with just smiling for a single photo before being tossed back into the pond. 

I really need to check some notes and write out my whole list, but with the shiner and some kind of chub or sucker I caught on another recent trip, I think the ‘26 species tally is at 22.