By Silas Gray

sports@joplinglobe.com

The Shawnee Trail Conservation Area, managed by the Missouri Department of Conservation, includes a small lake along with a mix of ponds and reclaimed mine pits.

The pits and ponds have been numbered to indicate the order in which they could most easily be portaged. These abandoned remnants from our mining past have been converted into something that provides many people, including me, lots of enjoyment.

Recently, on one of our fine fall days where the temperature was in the 70s and the sky was filled with those puffy white clouds with plenty of blue space in between, Karen suggested that we spend the day in the kayaks. There was a strong wind and we had to be back early in the evening, so the pits of Shawnee Trail came to mind. They’re close, only 20 miles north, and the waters of the pits are surrounded with tree and brush to help with the wind.

Once we got to Shawnee, I took us to one of the more remote parking areas. It got us to within three-quarters of a mile of the pit where I wanted to start.

To help cover the remaining distance, we’d brought along a kayak cart. It’s a fold up model that straps to the hull of the kayak making it into a wagon. Since it supports up to 250 pounds, Karen has determined that only one cart is required and that she can simply strap her kayak and gear onto the top of mine.

With my 13-foot kayak attached directly to the wheeled cart and Karen’s 10-footer on top of mine along with tackle, water and snacks for the day, we were set. Once we’d lifted the cable which acts as a gate to block access to the lightly-worn grassy service road and slid the boats under, we were on our way.

Most of the road in is downhill, so the going wasn’t too bad and we were soon standing at the water’s edge. Once unloaded, we assembled our fly rods, loaded the boats and shoved off into the still-green lily pads and floating vegetation of the pit.

We started off with Round Dinny flies. The Dinny is a painted ball of balsa wood with a feathered tail and rubber legs, and it’s deadly on panfish. I immediately began catching bluegill, although most were small, but two were keeper-sized. Meanwhile Karen took her time, arranging everything for comfort and tucking her reading material away so that it wouldn’t get wet. I stressed to her that she was missing out, and eventually she paddled over to join me.

Fish began striking immediately, and she missed the first three. I offered some guidance but paddled away a safe distance after receiving “the look.” She soon set the hook, and this time the fish tugged back and the fight was on. Her line quickly headed for a nearby log. I panicked for her, but she turned the fish and it headed toward a knot of thick lily pads. She eventually brought the bluegill up and into her hand. It was a giant and dwarfed the keepers that I’d been bragging about. My guidance had once again paid off.

We pushed on, continuing to catch bluegill, although none as large as that first one of Karen’s. We reached the far end of the pit where, after a sharp bend, it changes into a deep pond-like section where the largemouth bass like to hang out.

Karen entered the pond area first while I hung back to catch just a few more of those bluegill. Once inside, she swapped the Dinny for a weighted white streamer fly and began working the deeper water.

The bluegills were thick, but I eventually joined Karen in the pond. She was sitting at the far back and casting toward a shallow section with overhanging trees and lots of logs. I was just in time to see her set the hook and see her four-weight rod double. After a lengthy struggle, she lifted a very nice bass for me to see before releasing it. It was our first bass of the day. I switched out my popper for a streamer, slid in close and began casting also.

Even with the lure change, I continued to catch bluegill. Karen began asking if I needed her help, but I declined. However, I finally managed to land a bass. It was only four inches long, but it was a bass!

It was my dad’s birthday and we were planning a trip out to eat that evening. I had a cell signal and decided to call and finalize plans. He answered a little more quickly than I’d planned, and I had to have him hold a moment while I released a scrappy bluegill. A minute later I had to stop once again to land and release another fish. I exclaimed that the fish were so big in this pit.

He asked if I needed help cleaning them, but I admitted that I’d been doing catch and release since I hadn’t brought anything to transport them home in. There was a long silence and he finally said, “So you called to tell me that you were catching lots of big bluegill and you aren’t even keeping them?” I said no, that it was to wish him a happy birthday.

We did eventually make it back to the truck and headed toward home.

My plan to portage and fish several of the pits at the conservation area didn’t pan out. We were so busy catching fish that we spent the whole day at our first stop.

I tried to plan a birthday dinner for my father and now he’s not speaking to me. Unfortunately, my wife hasn’t stopped speaking and is still bragging about her two big fish. All in all, it was a fine day.