It's that time of year. The trees are displaying their coats of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns all across the hillsides of the Delaware, the temperatures are dropping, and the fish are putting on the feed to get ready for the winter. In my opinion, October and April are the two best months of the year to catch big river smallmouth. You won't have a 20 fish day like you may in the summer, but you very seldom need to weed through dinks to find the football shaped trophy caliber fish.
It was on a cool October afternoon where I found myself along a stretch of the Delaware further south than my typical stomping grounds. Casting a paddle-tail swimbait, I soon get thumped on a steady retrieve. A flash of bronze, a few leaps and splashes, and soon, I've landed my biggest smallmouth of the fall. I love big smallmouth; there's very little in freshwater that can match a big bronzeback pound for pound in terms of scrappiness.
I soon sent her back on her way and continued wandering down the river. I eventually left and drove to one of my spots further up north, hitting some canal locks along the way. Got lost in the woods for a few hours. Holy shit, I needed that.
The next night, I found myself at the exact same spot I got that big smallmouth at. This time, however, I had on my mind the things that go bump in the night. October is also around when the local river rats turn their attention towards ol' marble eyes. On my third cast with a purple shadow rap, I got that signature walleye thump.
Fall marks a time of immense change for fish, no matter where you are. Everything feels rushed, from the massive push of bunker along the shore and the bass and blues that follow in a mad dash for the Chesapeake, the salmon and steelhead that run up the tribs to spawn, the walleyes and smallmouth that start gorging themselves in preparation for the winter, and the sense that there's too much to do and not enough time to do it before all the leaves are gone and the north winds chill the landscape.
Cheers, fishy people.
