Outdoors
Rec
B
Saturday, May 28, 2022
The Observer & Baker City Herald
Behold the might
of the Black Pearl
Tough and tasty
TOM
CLAYCOMB
BASE CAMP
I
The humble pumpkinseed is
a worthy quarry for anglers
Luke Ovgard/Contributed Photo
The humble pumpkinseed is one of the hardest-fi ghting panfi sh species.
United States Treasury to print
money is made of linters once
viewed as worthless but now
used as the basis for fi nancial
exchange the world over.
LUKE
OVGARD
CAUGHT OVGARD
fter cottonseed is
processed by a gin
and bulk of the fibers
removed to make the shirt on
your back, shorter strands of
residual fibers, called linters,
remain attached to the seeds.
It cannot be used to make
cotton fabric, so for years,
linters went unused and
simply remained attached to
tons and tons of cottonseed
destined for the oil presses.
Oil removed, the linters
and husks of the seed were
simply discarded. Until one
day, they weren’t.
A
With the invention of a device
capable of removing the linters
before oil extraction, not only
could the linters be salvaged, but
without the cotton fi bers on the
seeds, they immediately gained
traction as fi sh and animal feed.
And those linters? Well,
today, linters are utilized almost
exclusively in the creation of
high-quality cotton paper. The
very cotton paper used by the
Seeds
Linters are not the only part
of the natural world that often
gets overlooked and devalued for
lack of apparent worth. In fact,
cottonseed wasn’t even the only
underutilized little seed. Another
is the pumpkinseed. No, not the
delicious green seeds often sold
as pepitas — the fi sh.
The pumpkinseed, Lep-
omis gibbosus, is a small sun-
fi sh closely resembling a blue-
gill originally native to the
northeastern part of the United
States and southeastern Canada.
Despite not growing larger than
your palm (and rarely larger
than six inches) and having lim-
ited sport and food value due to
their small size, they are one of
the most widely introduced sun-
fi sh worldwide with documented
populations in 44 U.S. states,
Washington, D.C., and Puerto
Rico as well as almost every
European nation.
What is it about this fi sh that
almost nobody fi shes for on pur-
pose that has scattered it to the
wind? The answer might sur-
prise you.
Perspective
OK, it won’t surprise you
that much. Pumpkinseed are
typically stocked for both their
popularity as an aquarium or
pond fi sh and the fact that bass
love to eat them; however, they
have merit for anglers, too.
Though small, pumpkinseed
fi ght hard on an ultralight or
light fl y rod and are at least as
easy to look at as some “Ins-
tagram models” I know. They
(the fi sh, not the Instagram
models) seem to have forgotten
their diminutive size and when
staging to spawn, pumpkinseed
will hit almost anything.
For this reason, they make
a great practice quarry for
anglers trying to improve their
bass or trout game. I’ve caught
pumpkinseed on small Rapalas,
spoons, spinners, jigs, worms,
minnows, streamers, dry fl ies,
nymphs and even micro gear.
This entitled attitude and
general dissatisfaction with
anything being close to them
make pumpkinseed a fan-
tastic target for young anglers
learning the nuance of how to
twitch a minnowbait, fi sh an
indicator or bottom-bounce
a jig.
It’s probably sacrilege to
the diehard fl y guys for me to
admit that pumpkinseed — not
trout — taught me how to fl y-
cast. The fact that I used a hot
pink San Juan Worm probably
doesn’t help my case, either,
but it did make me a profi -
cient fl ycaster. Not good, mind
you. Profi cient.
See, Ovgard/Page B2
t has been said that
the two happiest
times in your life are
when you buy a boat and
when you sell the boat.
I’ve owned a few boats
in my life so let’s go over
the trials and tribula-
tions of owning a boat so
I can help you skip some
heartache.
Let’s draw up a
boating schedule for the
average Oregonian or
Idahoan. Unless you’re
fl oating the rivers up
north steelhead fi shing
you probably fi sh April
through August. That’s
22 Saturdays. If you’re
lucky there’s only one
Saturday per month
with bad weather such
as rain or typhoon
type winds. Now we’re
down to 18. Then let’s
say you have to work
maybe eight Saturdays.
Now we’re down to 10.
Then some animal lover
will schedule a wed-
ding or graduation in the
middle of primo fi shing
season. Now we’re down
to only getting to fi sh
eight Saturdays.
You can make adjust-
ments to match your indi-
vidual scenario but you
get my drift — our days
fi shing are limited and
precious. I say all of this
to point out, buy a new(er)
boat motor. You don’t
want to spend your few
precious free days sitting
at the boat dock working
on a boat motor or getting
hauled to jail because in
a fi t of rage you emptied
your 30-06 into a dysfunc-
tional boat motor while
witnesses fi lmed you.
My third boat, Katy
and I had just gotten mar-
ried. We bought a decent-
looking boat at a ranch
auction. Our fi rst free
Saturday we went to the
lake only to discover that
the motor was froze up.
After a trip to the boat
house and $2,500 later we
were headed back out two
weeks later.
Same scenario. Boat
wouldn’t start — Katy’s
grandpa and I blew across
the bay.
Back to the boathouse,
stern talk to the scal-
awag mechanics and we
were fi nally in the saddle.
Not that I recommend
watching this movie but
shortly thereafter Katy
and I watched the show
“The Money Pit.” It was
about a young couple that
bought a house and all
of the fi ascos that they
encountered while remod-
eling it. I think they drew
up the plot around what
we had encountered with
our newly purchased boat,
and we never received
any royalties!
I learned then, with
no more free time than I
have, I’m not going to buy
a boat with an old motor.
In fact, I’m in the market
for a new boat right now.
Sure, I wouldn’t mind
buying a used one if I
could fi nd one 1 to 3
years old in pristine con-
dition but other than that,
I’m going to buy a new
one. It’s not worth the
pain to get a good deal on
a 400-pound paperweight
called a boat motor.
Which brings us
around to my old faithful,
tried and true 12-foot
Little Jon boat. We
bought it the fi rst year we
got married 37 years ago.
It is great for sandpits,
small lakes and fl oating
smooth rivers. We’ve
caught boatloads of fi sh
in it. Up until two years
ago, all that we’ve ever
had were electric motors.
Then two years ago we
got a 2.3-horsepower
Honda motor which was a
slice of heaven.
So according to me,
it’s been a great fi shing/
bowfi shing boat. To win-
terize it, fl ip it on its side
against the fence and
that’s it. It doesn’t have
to be stored inside. Snow
means nothing to it. The
sun can’t hurt it. Sure,
once the kids and I were
fl oating the Boise River
and went over a diversion
dam and knocked a hole
it the bottom and had to
get that patched but that’s
the only maintenance
required other than spray
painting it every few
years with two or three
cans of $1.50 spray paint.
In case the haters
happen upon this article
I guess that I’d better go
ahead and mention a few
wee downsides to the
boat that we aff ectionately
named the Black Pearl
and hoist a pirate fl ag up
her fl ag pole (well, dowel
rod) when she is on the
high seas.
See, Pearl/Page B2
Falling for an iconic Oregon att raction
Hike to the top of
Multnomah Falls gives a
fresh appreciation for
Oregon’s tallest waterfall
JAYSON
JACOBY
ON THE TRAIL
I
hiked to a cliché recently
and the experience was more
compelling than I expected
it to be.
But then a 542-foot-high cliff
isn’t apt to be boring, no matter
how many calendars its visage
has graced.
I’m writing here of Mult-
nomah Falls.
It is Oregon’s highest water-
fall and perennially among the
places in the state that attract the
most visitors.
Offi cially, Multnomah Falls is
measured at 620 feet. That total
includes the main plunge of 542
feet, the lower falls of 69 feet and
a 9-foot drop between the two.
The falls is popular and iconic
in part because of its location.
Multnomah Falls is just 20
miles or so east of Portland. And
it’s right beside Interstate 84, so
it’s much easier to get to than
other Oregon scenic treasures
such as Crater Lake or the Wal-
lowas or Leslie Gulch.
This accessibility can be a
curse as well as a blessing.
The parking lot at Multnomah
Falls fi lls rapidly on nice days,
and not infrequently the lot closes
because there’s no space left.
I’ve driven past the falls
dozens of times but I’ve taken the
exit on just a few occasions.
This is in part due to the
crowds.
I’m accustomed to hiking on
trails in Northeastern Oregon
where, with rare exceptions,
encountering another person
is so uncommon as to be note-
worthy — akin to seeing a rarely
glimpsed animal such as a bear.
I generally avoid Multnomah
Falls because I fi gure I’d end up
dodging hordes of cavorting teen-
agers and the occasional small but
ill-tempered dog, the latter meet-
ings inevitably happening at a
narrow section of trail.
But I also have dismissed the
falls as hardly worthy of my time.
It is, after all, just a waterfall,
albeit a lengthy example by local
standards.
That’s what I meant by Mult-
nomah Falls being a cliché.
Many serious nature photogra-
phers eschew waterfalls as sub-
jects simply because they are so
common. How many doctor’s
offi ces or motel rooms have you
been in that had at least one water-
fall scene, whether a photograph
or a painting? The setting is so
ubiquitous you no longer notice it,
the visible equivalent to the back-
ground hum of traffi c that any city
dweller quickly adjusts to.
Like all types of discrimina-
tion, my disdain for Multnomah
Falls was misguided, the product
of lazy thinking and the sloppy
assumptions it yields.
I had occasion to not only
stop at the falls, but to hike the
trail to the top, while returning
from the state tennis tourna-
ment with my wife, Lisa, and our
daughter, Olivia.
Jayson Jacoby/Baker City Herald
See, Falls/Page B2
The Benson Bridge crosses Multnomah Creek between the upper and lower falls.