TEN CENTS - Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission

24 PENNSYLVANIA ANGLER FEBRUARY
A PLUG CONVERT
By E. P. UPDEGRAFF
Having been born and raised along the
banks of the Loyalsock and Susquehanna I
thought I knew all that there was to know
about catching smallmouth black bass—using
solely live bait, but upon moving into Western
Pennsylvania I met quite a character,
namely Dave Frampton of Wilkinsburg, Pa.,
who really did know how to catch smallmouth
black bass.
Old Dave, or Gravy Dave, as he is many
times called, used to drive logs on the Upper
Allegheny 'yars' ago and now devotes his
entire time to hunting and fishing and making
buckwheat cakes and shanty-fried potatoes
for the boys who are fortunate enough to
enjoy his companionship along the Upper
Allegheny. He knows every inch of that
stream and seems personally acquainted with
every bass taken from it.
Many times I viewed with awe the big
ones Old Dave would fetch back. They
always seemed so much bigger than those I
caught on live bait. I'd ask Old Dave where
he caught them—his answer was always "Up
the river". Tried to pump him as to what
he was using for bait. Being very secretive
he'd always answer, "Oh! Different kinds of
bait".
Funny, I'd think. I fish the same river he
does, but never saw such nice bass swimming
around—and when I did see a nice sized bass
there wasn't anything I had to offer in live
bait that would be of any interest to the
indifferent fish. This fact made me more
determined than ever to 'get-in' with Old
Dave and learn his secrets.
Took me almost two years of trying before
I gained his confidence. Finally did, and one
day he said to me, "Come out, Upde, and
let's go 'up-the-river', we'll take my tent and
camp out a few days. Sure was thrilled—for
at last I was going to learn Old Dave's
secrets of where and how he caught his big
ones.
We camped near Warren. Each day—for a
week—I'd catch a few legal size bass on soft
shells, night crawlers, minnows and helgramites—but
Old Dave using plugs for bait
would trail in each night with three or four
whoppers. He often kidded me and remarked
that it seemed like a shame to put his bass
on the same stringer with mine.
This kidding continued throughout the following
winter months. It even included my
five and ten cent store outfit—which name he
gave my equipment. So upon his advice I
purchased an outfit similar to his, but how
to use it was the next question.
Many times that winter, Old Dave had
me out in his back garden 'aimin' at tin cans
or any other object that might catch his eye.
Numerous back-lashes and clumsiness on my
part sure tried the patience of my instructor
who certainly barked out his instructions
with an occasional burst of profanity at my
seeming or real dumbness.
By early summer I thought I was pretty
d • good at throwing a plug and was just
'rarin' to go and could hardly wait the opening
day of bass season. I'd show Old Dave!
The zero hour approached. Then thoughts
of another week's camping along the Upper
Allegheny. There must have been some doubt
about that high priced casting outfit of mine
—for I took my old reliable Five and Ten
cent store outfit along—just in case.
This whole forenoon of the opening day
found me casting just beautifully (thought to
myself). I sure learned my lessons last winter.
Noon arrived, but no bass; they just
didn't seem to be cooperating or doing their
part. Old Dave was 'round the bend', out of
sight, so I picked up a few soft shells—got
out the cheap outfit and caught four small
legal sized bass. Was quite proud of these
until that evening Old Dave returned with
three big bass all over fifteen inches.
The entire week passed, always shifting
from plugging to live bait fishing. Just
couldn't get a bass to take those pretty plugs
of mine. Yet Old Dave got his daily share
of big ones.
This kinda burned me up—so driving back
to Pittsburgh I said to Dave, "We'll spend a
couple days every week up-the-river this
summer and I'll promise to use nothing but
plugs".
Every week during July and August of
that summer we hied up-the-river for a day
or two. I used nothing but plugs—caught no
Art Van Der Water and E. P. UpdeBTafT with a
fine catch of Allegheny River smallmouth bass taken
on plug last season.
bass, didn't even get a rise. Got a few thrills
when I hooked into a stone or floating stick
—just kidding myself that it might be a bass
—never was tho. Old Dave was still catching
them, however.
Labor Day had come and gone. I was
licked—gave up. Ready to sell my forty
dollar outfit for ten dollars.
Thursday following Labor Day was warm,
calm and cloudy. Bumped into Old Dave at
Sols Stores in Wilkinsburg. He said he
thought they'd bite on a day such as this.
I agreed with him and within two hours we
were packed and off—headed for Johnson's
Eddy—six miles west of Warren, a mere 150
miles from Pittsburgh.
We encountered some beautiful thunder
showers enroute—the good old fashioned
kind, principle part of them—rain. Ten" that
night found us ready to pitch our tent and
those beautiful thunder showers getting
heavier all the time. Ever pitch a tent in
one at night and try to keep dry? Well, then
you can understand what fun we had trying
to keep dry and in good humor at the same
time. We did agree on one thing—that we
were either da fools or just plain crazy.
Well, those darn thunder showers continued
all night.
Dawn finally arrived. We arose stretched,
shivered, yawned and swore a little at the
sight of a rising and murky Allegheny.
To find dry wood was out of the question jk_
so Dave suggested we row up to the riffle* I
which is about a quarter of a mile abov« I
Johnson's Eddy and try our luck.
We anchored our boat and Dave said S
"Upde, try it right in those riffles. Many \ I
big one I caught there". The water was s°. I
swift that I could hardly maintain my bal* I
ance. Dave watched me make my first cast-^ I
and then something happened that I neve' I
had happen before. The biggest bass I evel I
saw came to the surface in that swift current I
and savagely smacked my plunker down. Th e I
line was tight immediately. I started hoi' g
lering "Help! Help! Dave, what'll I do?" • |
did, pronto—slipped, rode the riffles caboose W
fashion into deep water and all Old Dave did K«
was laugh at my struggles to gain my feet §?>
and land that bass—which seemed to stand B
in mid-air on its tail every time it brok e I
water on its shoreward journey.
Finally landed myself and fish on shore. I
Old Dave did help take it off. It just couldn't I
have gotten away—both upper and lowejl
jaws locked shut by the hooks.
We rushed back to camp—Mrs. Johnsort I
greeted us, thought someone was drowning I
heard my call for help, and she ran out 4 I
her house to see what happened. Old DaV« |
assured her it was just his buddy who hooked
a big bass, got excited and fell in. i 1
This smallmouth bass, my first on plug* A
weighed exactly five pounds 2 ounces and ' p
sure felt rewarded for my patience and fee'
that anyone that will stick to plug fishinl
will someday land that whopper that wil'
convert him from live bait to artificial bait-
CANNED FISH OF MANY KINDS
ci;
. in
Many table delicacies, little known out' j n
side the regions where they are packed, ar c ^
included among the products of- the Americaf s^
fishing industry, the Bureau of Fisheries ha s w]
discovered in a survey which shows tha' ^i
more than 160 species or groups of domestic
fish and other seafood are regularly used
for food in the United States. of
Outnumbering the varieties of canned ^
fruits, vegetables, and meats, the seafood lis' ru
contains many less familiar items whos* at
more extensive utilization would aid in th* th
conservation of supplies of the more popuW
canned fish products, the experts point out-
The greatest variety of canned fisherie*
specialties is canned in New York City, th c
survey shows. First come eels, both smoke"
and pickled in jelly, then canned plain and
pickled mussels. Bismark herring, rollmop 8,
and gaffelbiter are among the various fortf 1 *
of that fish prepared in New York for di*'
tribution to dinner table throughout t#
Nation.
In the country around New Orleans, Creol e
dishes such as crab gumbo, snapping turtl*
soup, and shrimp are included among th*
specialties offered, while, on the Pacific coas^
bottled clam juice from Seattle, smoked oy 5 '
ters from the Columbia River territory, aw
canned squid from California, are cited
among the mouth-watering items encountere"
in the survey.
The grand essentials of life are something
to do, something to love, and something I
hope for.