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It empties into an open flat, deepest place 11 feet, maybe three football fields wide, spring breakup it seems every year adds to the underwater labyrinth of snags that are approximately 60 yards long, 20 yards wide and the upstream side of this quagmire of jig stealing logs, branches, rocks and Lord knows what all else, is a walleye mecca.
The thing is we know where it is, we have fish finders with depth charts, underwater lake bed contours, and no matter how you try to stay out of the mess, doing my best believe me, you donate. Oh, does one donate. It would be interesting to have a scuba diver take a look.
Ya launch, thinking, nope not this time, just gonna nab my walleyes, I’ll stay way clear. But then old Walter don’t bite, so I edge closer to what I know I need to avoid, oh hey I got one, and lost not a jig. I’m safe, I’ll just skirt that same path back trolling when, what the heck, tug jerk, backup up tug jerk, jig gone.
The river’s current is definitely in ka-hoots with the log jam. It teases you thinking ya finally have it figured out. Then, you are somehow retying on yet another jig. It’s a place where when the jig is up, you got a walleye, when the jig’s down, the fun is over.
--The trout whisperer
