Fishing Log: Carver Lake -- Woodbury, MN

I've always been hesitant to give an answer when the following question comes up:

"Would you rather catch a bunch of small- to average-sized fish throughout a fishing trip or rather catch just a few really superb fish?"

Lots of the time, I feel like all I want to do is catch fish, and whether those are small or large, I don't really care. But then there are other days, when all I want to feel is a 5 pound weight on the end of my line, even if it means using larger lures and decreasing the breadth of your net. This past trip, I definitely leaned toward the latter.

It was a sunny afternoon without a cloud in the sky when I headed to Carver Lake on the southern edge of Woodbury, MN. There is no public boat landing, and access to the lake is tough. I had to carry my kayak from the parking lot a good quarter mile to the beach where I was able to put-in. This distance made me wonder if anybody really brings canoes or kayaks down to the water. I certainly thought more than once about turning around and heading up to Powers Lake, only a short drive away. However, a lack of fishing pressure made me optimistic about Carver Lake's potential.

Once I put in, I paddled across the entirety of the 60 acre lake to reach the Western shore. I located a bay surrounded by cattails and bulrush, and decided to work my way into the middle of it. As I eased in, several large fish sitting on the surface made ripples as they darted into the weeds sitting only 10 inches under the water. This made me quite optimistic for the first few casts. However, I wasn't using the proper gear, as I would quickly find out.

I still had my ultralight rod and reel rigged up with a Strike King KVD squarebill 1.0 crankbait that had caught me the 3 nice bass on Powers Lake a few days earlier. Since I wanted to get started fishing, I casted towards the mouth of the bay, and cranked it down to a depth of about 2 feet before letting it rise a bit and then cranking some more. A couple of casts later and I felt a sharp tug on the bait and then the whole operation fell loose. A weightless reel-in presented me with exactly what I expected; a frayed line and a lost lure. I take time with my knots so I know it wasn't a knot-break and no bass could've ripped it off without me feeling more of a fight, this was a clean bite-through of the 6-pound ultralight line; a pike. Not having my pike rod rigged up, I decided to switch to my baitcasting outfit rigged up with a small chuggin-mouth variety Spro frog. I casted a bit into the cattails and hopped the frog out from the cover into open water; I've managed to perfect a nice hopping-motion which involves drawing the line taught and then jerking up quickly with the rod. This is a very realistic presentation for a frog moving in cover. No bites or strikes, but I certainly loved the action the popper-style mouth added to an already splashy frog design.

Heddon Zara Spook.

A half hour of no bites along the weed edges and increased wind from the west made me head around a point and work my way back into a secluded northern bay where the wind wasn't putting a chop on the water, in contrast to the eastern edge of the lake. I took out my biggest bass lure, a Heddon Zara Spook, and rigged it up on my medium-heavy tackle. 14-pound monofilament would probably do much better against toothy pike, was my thinking. I kept my kayak about 30 yards from shore and casted inwards, aiming for downed trees or obvious cover spots. The heavy weight of a large, cigar-shaped lure like the Spook means that with just a bit of practice, you can have pinpoint accuracy in casting.

After about a half hour of me working my way along the shore, moving slowly northwards, I was just beginning to think maybe the Spook was too big for any predators to take a bite at considering the water temperature was still hovering in the high 50's. Right then, I was greeted with a sight for sore eyes; a big-bodied 30-plus inch pike bursting from underneath a downed hemlock going airborne after my lure. This pike made my heart race like it hasn't in a very long time. The fish went under and I felt my line go tight for only a second, and then -- slack. The lure rose to the surface. Figuring maybe it would strike again, I quickly re-engaged the 'walk the dog' technique and crossed my fingers for another chance.

No more strikes came against the Spook, but it definitely reminded me of why I love that lure: the strikes may not be numerous, but they are dramatic and they always come from big fish. A bit of sadness of missing out on such a large fish began to come over me when I casted again and again around the hemlock and surrounding downed trees hoping to elicit just one more strike from the monster of the bay. A large mature fish like that learns quickly, and rather than pressure him too hard, I decided I would target him another day.

I was about three quarters of my way around the bay when I made the switch over to a 1.5-sized Strike King KVD squarebill crank in Firetiger, this time a bit bigger and on my pike rod. Walking the dog is a strenuous activity on the arms, and one can only do it from a kayak for so long. Long casts in shore and then outwards along the sloping rocky points with the crank yielded me no catch for the first 20 minutes or so. The sun was beginning to set and I had a half hour of toting gear around the park before I could get headed back, so I didn't have much longer left to fish. I began to wonder if the long walk with all of my gear and my 60-pound kayak on my shoulder was going to leave me with nothing to show for my day on the water other than two encounters with pike. I had no strikes in the bay, and worked my way out to the main lake, planning to slink my way along the north shore back to the beach, essentially doing a big circle throughout the day.

Just outside of the mouth of the bay, I casted the large crank into an opening between two trees. The lure was only in the water a couple of seconds before I felt a weight on the end of my line. No sharp tug like before, but rather just a sense of heaviness. I jerked upwards to set the hook in whatever had struck at my lure, and the line went slack.

Personal Best Largemouth.

"It couldn't be," I thought to myself. I had already lost the pike, and now this mystery fish. I exhaled, and casted right back into the same spot. This time, it was clear; a lunker bass snatched the lure off the surface only a split second after it landed. I must have practically hit the largemouth on the head with my cast! I quickly set the hook and reeled to pull the behemoth out from the cover. The hook was set this time, the only way it could be lost again would be if he managed to wrap my line around some weeds or tree limbs, and I was determined to not let that happen. A quick fight ended with me hoisting the 4.5 pound, 21" personal best largemouth into my kayak. The Fenwick HMX spinning rod in medium-heavy had the perfect amount of backbone to horse him out of the cover, while my Mitchell Avocet Gold IV reel has an excellent drag system that quickly tired out the stunner. A couple of quick photos later, and he was released into the water, free to spawn and make thousands of little versions of himself.

Only a couple of bites were had in the three hours I fished Carver Lake in Woodbury. However, all of the bites had character and a good fish on the other end of them. It's a terribly tough lake to get a boat into, but there are ample shore fishing opportunities. I'd recommend the lake, and I plan to go again sometime soon when I'm feeling ambitious enough to make the trek with my kayak.