C6
OUTSIDE
East Oregonian
Saturday, June 22, 2019
CAUGHT OVGARD
Microfishing easily accomplished just about anywhere
By LUKE OVGARD
For the East Oregonian
BUFFALO, N.Y. —
Microfishing is still rela-
tively new to me, and the
newness of it all is partially
why I love it so much. This
method has yet to hit the
mainstream, but microfish-
ing is a gem.
In combination, the abil-
ity to sight fish, to actually
see the fish you’re targeting
and the inherent challenges
of getting small fish to bite
on tiny tackle is an incredi-
bly underrated pursuit.
Further, there are micros
everywhere — even in the
heavily pressured waters
nearby you don’t think twice
about — and given its rel-
ative lack of awareness,
you can probably microfish
within walking distance of
your house.
Micros are tough to “fish
out” because they’re typi-
cally too small to have food
value to humans, and though
they can be delicate, they are
usually plentiful.
Everywhere you go, there
are sculpins, chubs, min-
nows, killifish, anchovies,
shad, darters, or shiners.
Play hard
One of my favorite expe-
riences microfishing started
out with me chasing north-
ern pike the size of my leg
and ended with me catching
fish the size of my toe.
While visiting Buffalo,
New York, for a teaching
conference, I used every
afternoon to get out and
fish. After the conference,
I bowed out to the Niagara
River faster than the Bills
have bowed out of the play-
offs in recent years.
Arriving at my desti-
nation, the Tifft Nature
Photo contributed by Luke Ovgard
These little fish are a staple in the north and considered to be one of the most commercially valuable fish in the Great Lakes
despite their size.
Reserve, I grabbed a heavy
rod for pike and a smaller rod
just in case any micros were
visible.
I quickly spotted a nice
pike. Unfortunately, it was
more lifeless than the Rap-
tors’ Finals hopes before
LeBron went to the Western
Conference.
Sadly, upon my arrival at
a public slough of the Niag-
ara River, a dead 3-foot
northern pike was the first
thing I saw.
The second thing I saw
was a school of micros,
patrolling the shoreline just
far enough out that I couldn’t
easily reach them with my
micro rod. Still, fish you
can see should take prior-
ity when microfishing, so I
opted to try anyhow.
I set down my regular
rod, which happened to be
tipped with a jig and worm.
It fell into the water and
caught a rock bass, which I
quickly reeled in, released,
and resumed microfishing.
Micros
Some micros are notori-
ously difficult to catch. Most
micros — especially cyprin-
ids — are notoriously tough
to identify. I couldn’t tell
what these fish were in the
water, and as I battled the
wind to place my tiny piece
of worm in the path of the
school, I had no idea what
they were.
The Great Lakes are home
to dozens of micros alone.
Often, identifying micros is
tougher than catching them,
and if the Ontario Ministry
of Natural Resources didn’t
have “The Baitfish Primer”
(a free PDF for Lake Ontario
micros), identification would
be rough.
Catching them was no
walk in the park, but even-
tually I did get one to bite
my Owner New Half Moon
hook.
It was obviously a cypri-
nid, and I assumed a shiner,
but I wasn’t sure on the spe-
cies. I was sure that the iri-
descent green-blue con-
trasted with bright silver was
absolutely gorgeous.
Often, I’ll spend hours
fishing a school of micros in
hopes of catching more than
one species, but these were
pretty obviously the same
species as the one I’d caught.
I hadn’t identified the spe-
cies yet, but I was enough
of a naturalist to see they
were the same, and it was
time to move to greener (or
at least slightly less emerald)
pastures.
I carefully unhooked the
fish and put it into the photo
tank to take pictures.
Photo tanks are glass or
plastic boxes not actually
designed for holding fish
but repurposed by enterpris-
ing microfishermen to take
highly detailed photographs
of fish with their fins fully
extended.
Most species retract their
fins when handled, and the
number of anal fin rays, dor-
sal fin rays, fin shape, fin
size, and a host of other fac-
tors can be lost if fish are held
out of the water.
I’ve always tried hold-
ing fish in my wet palm just
under the surface of the water
to spread out their fins, but it
doesn’t always work. You
also risk losing the fish before
a good picture is taken.
Thus, photo tank.
I took a few pictures, but
the tank I had at the time
was old and all scratched up.
Further, it was windy and I
didn’t have anything to wipe
water droplets off the side of
the tank, so I couldn’t get the
best photo.
In this case, it was enough
to identify the fish: emerald
shiner (Notropis atherinoi-
des). Fitting, considering just
730 words ago I told you that
microfishing is a hidden gem.
To learn more about
microfishing and the gear
you’ll need, check out https://
caughtovgard.com/gear-up/
gear-up-micro/.
———
Order
CaughtOvgard
performance fishing apparel
or read more at caughtov-
gard.com; Follow on Ins-
tagram and Fishbrain @
lukeovgard; Contact luke.
ovgard@gmail.com.
57-mile bike ride offers challenge, beautiful scenery
By MAVIS HARTZ
For the East Oregonian
MISSION — The 57-mile
bicycling route starting at
the Wildhorse RV Park near
Mission and ending at the
beautiful Ukiah-Dale Forest
State Scenic Corridor Camp-
ground on Camas Creek
near Ukiah is a physically
challenging trip but one with
expansive views and points
of historical interest.
Begin your day early
at the Wildhorse RV Park,
ready for 3,866 feet of eleva-
tion gain.
Exit the Wildhorse Resort
complex turning south on
Highway 331, South Mar-
ket Road. Continue over the
freeway and back in to roll-
ing grass and wheat farms.
Gaze to the east and imag-
ine the Oregon Trail wag-
ons rolling straight down the
foothills of the Blue Moun-
tains, cutting ruts deep
enough to weather over a
century of erosion and graz-
ing. Look southwest toward
Pilot Rock in search of the
basalt cliff memorialized by
the pioneers as a way find-
ing point. Approximately 4
miles into the ride, spin west
onto County Road 950, Best
Road.
Glide along Best Road
until it tees into Tutuilla
Road.
Counterintuitively,
rotate north spooling along
until County Road 1086,
West McKay Drive, cuts
west. Follow West McKay
Drive until reaching the
small community of Green
Meadow on the north side of
the McKay Reservoir.
McKay Reservoir is part
of the 1,837-acre McKay
Creek Nature Wildlife Ref-
uge designated by President
Calvin Coolidge in 1927.
There are picnic areas on the
refuge but no camping areas.
Visiting times and locations
vary depending on the fowl
inhabitants and other wild-
life. Turn south toward Pilot
Rock on Highway 395, the
Pendleton-John Day High-
way, and begin the long but
gradual 34-mile climb to the
top of Battle Mountain.
This section on the Pend-
leton-John Day Highway is
the most heavily trafficked
road of the day, and flow is
Photo contributed by Mavis Hartz
based on travelers going to
and from work in the Pend-
leton area. If as a cyclist
you like smooth, well-main-
tained roads regardless of
the traffic, stay on the Pend-
leton-John Day Highway.
Those that prefer to battle
the potholes over vehicles,
look east as Green Meadows
becomes an even smaller
number of houses at the top
of the hill around mile 13.3.
There, between the new
highway and some small
residential developments, is
Frontage Road. To access the
road, take one of the drive-
way-like connectors toward
a number of roads that har-
ken to the Oregon Trail with
names like Conestoga Drive.
Frontage Road morphs
into Schoolhouse Road.
Watch for the cutoff that
crosses the main highway
around mile 17 onto White
Eagle Road. The cutoff is
recognizable by the iconic
White Eagle Grange on the
west side of the main road.
Veer south onto Old High-
way 395 just prior to the
Grange and persist along the
old highway using Pilot Rock
as a destination beacon until
reaching the mining and tim-
ber town of Pilot Rock.
Pilot Rock is a delightful
small town with a number
of conveniences, and one of
the last places to make any
purchases for the next few
days. Rise out of town on
the same Highway 395 trav-
eling toward John Day and
away from mainstream soci-
ety. Enjoy Jack Canyon with
its birds of prey and intrigu-
ingly weathered buildings
of the past as you leave the
Palouse and crawl your way
back to the Blue Mountains.
At the old town of Nye,
now a gravel barn, veer
south toward Ukiah. Spool
up past Stewart Springs, top-
ping out at 3.9% of incline,
to the incredible vistas of
Whittaker Flats. Enjoy the
far-off mountain ranges and
a brief reprieve from climb-
ing with a less than 2% grade
across the flats. After the
flats, endure more climbing
to toil past Webb Slough and
then gape at the view at Cape
Horn. Pause just prior to the
4,277-foot summit at Battle
Mountain State Park.
Battle Mountain State
Park, 398.47 acres of for-
ested grandeur, was pur-
chased in 1930 from a sheep
Photo contributed by Mavis Hartz
Climbing out of Pilot Rock on Highway 395.
Blooming camas can paint meadows blue.
and land company to pre-
serve the impressive for-
est of ponderosa pine, larch,
Douglas-fir and spruce. The
park was then named for the
last major indigenous upris-
ing, the Bannock War of
1878, and the battle that was
fought in the vicinity of the
park. The main impetus for
the Bannock War was a lit-
tle plant with a blue flower
that loves marshy meadows,
camas.
Camassia quamash, a
member of the asparagus
family, was a major food
item for the indigenous pop-
ulation. The plants would be
dug and the root prepared
in a variety of manners that
allowed it to be consumed
year-round. Tribes would
habitually visit the same
camas beds for harvesting.
Family groups would groom,
plant and weed plots to pro-
duce the abundance they
needed to survive. These
plots were passed down from
generation to generation to
assure future survival.
When the Bannock Indi-
ans originally made a treaty
with the United States of
America, they attempted to
reserve the right to return
to Camas Prairie yearly to
secure food for their mem-
bers. Upon signing the treaty,
they were then shipped off to
the Fort Hall Reservation. In
a saga of misinterpretation,
western expansion and lack
of supplies they returned
to Camas Prairie multiple
times to harvest the root.
Yearly the chief would for-
mally express his displea-
sure of finding more and
more white settlers near, in
and around the Camas Prai-
rie. The tribe’s final arrival at
the prairie, just after the Nez
Perce War of 1877, show-
cased livestock, particularly
pigs, dining on the coveted
bulbs.
The resulting bloodshed
was initiated by a select
group of the Bannock and
Paiute Tribes. Suffering
from loss of warriors, the
band led by Chief Buffalo
Horn until his death, then a
Paiute Chief, Egan, headed
toward the Umatilla Reser-
vation envisioning a replen-
ishing of forces. Instead,
on July 8, 1878, the band
engaged with General Oli-
ver O. Howard’s troops in a
daylong battle, losing more
warriors while a small band
from the Umatilla Reser-
vation looked on. Members
of the Umatilla Tribe later
entered the camp, captured
and then killed Chief Egan.
Following the death of Egan
the warring group disbanded
and tried to melt back into
the landscape.
Enjoy the superb park
and the chimney built and
used by the Civilian Conser-
vation Corps. Return to the
road to rocket up one more
mile to the summit of Battle
Mountain. Revel in the eight-
mile, 976 feet of elevation
loss, glide down to Snipe
Creek and on past the junc-
tion to the town of Ukiah, to
the Ukiah-Dale Forest State
Scenic Corridor Park.
The grassy meadows
around Snipe Creek season-
ally host camas beds and if
you are lucky, large herds
of elk. The campground at
the Ukiah-Dale Forest State
Scenic Corridor Park is pic-
turesque and features the
lovely, pristine, bubbling
waters of the aptly named
Camas Creek.
———
Mavis Hartz is a co-owner
of the Mountain Works bicy-
cle shop in La Grande.