Late August, and the Hill Country sweltered in the grip of a classic Texas heat wave. When you stepped outside the air conditioning the heat gripped, even shocked you with its intensity. The air was muggy and thick and your glasses fogged from the high humidity. Even late in the afternoon, as the sun sank in the west, the thermometer still hovered around 100 degrees and the land lay scorched as if hit by a Biblical plague. No question about it -- it was Hot with a capital H. But I didn't care. It may have been the Dog Days of summer, but I felt fine. You'd have been comfortable too, if you'd been floating in an innertube fishing rig, soaked almost to your shoulders with the cool, clear, refreshing water of Lake Travis.
Quite frankly, the weather was the last thing on my mind. No -- I had more important fish to fry -- black bass, to be specific. Here and there against the shoreline you could see schools of minnows herded into shallow inlets by hungry largemouths. Every so often the calm surface shattered as a bass charged in, and panicked minnows exploded from the water like flying fish. I tied on and cast a floating Rapala -- the best minnow imitation in my fishing vest. I expected an immediate strike. But no! The bass, startled by the splash, dashed away into deep water. At the next inlet, I cast more carefully. Same result. At the third inlet, I approached slowly and quietly and presented the lure as gently as possible. A beautiful sidearm cast on light spinning tackle. Scarcely any splash when the lure touched the water. Perfect. Yet again the bass spooked like a wild mustang at the sting of a lariat rope. I'd made an exceptional cast; I couldn't do any better. Now what? Feeding fish all around me and I couldn't get a strike. I'd hit a brick wall. Shut out. Stymied. Skunked in what looked like a fisherman's paradise.
Paradise is a good word to describe Lake Travis -- all 18,930 acres. In its 65-mile length you can find almost everything you could want. Open water for sailing. Spectacular, serpentine canyons with sheer bluffs. Clear water for swimming, snorkeling, or SCUBA diving. Hundreds of miles of shoreline. Countless coves. More than a dozen parks and recreation areas for hiking, birdwatching, picnicking, or sunbathing. At least 21 marinas and eight golf courses. Close to town -- just a few minutes' drive northwest of Austin. And to top it all off, this 66-year-old reservoir offers some wonderful fishing.
The best way to quickly learn a lake is to hire a guide. Here are four with experience on Travis: Allen Christenson, 512-441-6682; Clint Bridges, 512-248-0204; Git Bit Guide Service, 512-773-7401; and Scales Guide Service, 512-264-9628. Travis is a great kayaking lake. For good advice and gear see Roland Jimenez at Lakeline Watersports, 800-832-1944, or check with Austin Canoe & Kayak, 512-719-4386. This impoundment has too many marinas, recreational areas, and parks to list here, but you can learn more at http://www.texassailor.com/2_marina.htm and http://www.lcra.org/parks/parks_travis_county.html. If you're looking for a golf course try http://www.hill-country-visitor.com/Lake_Travis_Texas/Golf. Two more interesting sites of general interest are http://www.tpwd.state.tx.us/fishboat/fish/recreational/lakes/travis/ and http:www.lcra.org.
When you're out on the water remember that this is a flood control reservoir, which means that the water level can fluctuate greatly. When the lake is low, dangerous boating hazards become exposed. Best known are the Sometime Islands which appear near the dam when the water level drops. Navigate with care -- especially at night. If you plan to visit any of the many parks, you should be aware that Hippie Hollow is unique. It's the only park where you might be considered overdressed in a string bikini -- it's a swimming hole where clothing is optional.
Travis has always been a good lake for white bass (sand bass), and the best time of the year is spring when they make their spawning runs up the Colorado and Pedernales Rivers as well as creeks like Sandy and Cypress. Check out The Ramp, way up the lake near Marble Falls, or Reimer's on the Pedernales off Hwy 71. I lived on Travis for seven years and caught hundreds of whites on small chartreuse or white jigs and vibrating plugs like the Rat-L-Trap, in chrome with a blue or black back. Some of the most exciting fishing is around dock lights, which attract sandies and stripers year 'round. I'd use the aforementioned lures as well as small spoons, spinners, and the various Storm or Tsunami swimbaits.
Travis is not known as a crappie lake, but I used to catch dozens of these delicious panfish on small jigs or minnows fished vertically over submerged structure. In fact, structure is the key for crappie anywhere and in a lake like Travis, which has very little aquatic vegetation, any submerged stumps, logs, or brush piles in deeper water can become a crappie magnet.
While you're chasing panfish you may well hang into something much larger. Many a big flathead (yellow) catfish has succumbed to a crappie jig. Of course, if you're after a big flattie, no doubt you're setting trotlines baited with large minnows, small sunfish, or shad. For channel and blue catfish the trick is to find water about 15 feet deep near a drop-off and scatter chum -- canned sweet corn, dry dog food, cow cake, or fermented maize. Then return in an hour or so and fish near or on the bottom with your favorite bait. I like earthworms, cut up wieners, or one of the prepared stink baits like Catfish Charlie. You'll also attract carp and buffalo, both of which are fun to catch on dough bait. One afternoon, in less than half an hour, I landed three buffalo that weighed over 20 pounds each. Some exciting fishing, I can tell you!
For bigger thrills, try striped bass. In the spring, I'd look for them between Cypress Creek and Starnes Island. If they're deep, you can jig a slab over points. It's more fun when they chase schooling shad on the surface and you can throw a topwater, spoon, or tailspinner such as a Little George. When it's hot in the summer, most of them retreat to the deeper water near the dam, where a favorite method is to fish vertically with live shad or troll with downriggers.
Exciting as stripers may be, my favorite fish on Travis is the black bass. When I lived there the lake supported so many largemouths it was common to catch 20 or 30 in a day. I often found them schooled up, chasing shad, where they were suckers for a Rat-L-Trap. I seldom caught any bass over four pounds, but there was usually plenty of action. Chartreuse spinnerbaits always catch bass on Travis and I've frequently done well with topwaters like my old favorite, the classic Zara Spook. Another great lure is the plastic worm, rigged either Texas or Carolina style.
It was a plastic worm I turned to that hot summer afternoon. I noticed that there were a few feet of sand between the water and the grass line and that gave me an idea. I tied on a lightweight #1 sproat hook and rigged a 6-inch Creme worm, wacky style, so it dangled on both ends. The fish were easy to find -- one or two bass every few yards. As quietly as possible, I moved to the next small inlet and this time I cast the lure -- not into the water -- but deliberately up on the sandy bank so there'd be no telltale splash. I held my breath. What would happen? Would the bass bolt in fear?
It didn't. Then holding the rod high and to the side so the line couldn't possibly disturb the surface, I tugged the worm toward the water. Gently, gently, oh-so-gently. I mentally crossed my fingers. Would the bare hook hang up on the shore? Did I have a chance? Would this work? For a second, the hook caught on a small piece of limestone, but I jiggled it a couple of times and Lady Luck smiled -- it popped loose and the worm moved freely across the sand. I eased it into the water, then worked it slowly away from the bank. The bass saw my lure and finned in closer, jaws just inches away. He was interested! I took a deep breath and gave the lure the smallest nudge possible. Then something happened -- the worm vanished. It was there and then it wasn't. Gone. The bass inhaled it so quickly it simply disappeared. I sharply set the hook and the fish jumped and threshed like a roped mustang. The ploy had worked. It continued to work, again and again, as I hooked and landed a dozen more bass before the sun sank in the red sky behind the cedar covered hills -- a wonderful fishing experience on a wonderful lake!
Read more articles from the Summer 2008 issue.