The club is open to all, but club events take place during the week and we meet at Chilson Senior Center in Loveland, CO. Our basic purpose is to fish, but we're easily distracted by the chance to work with youngsters or improve northern Colorado outdoor resources.
Sixteen determined anglers turned out Thursday for a chilly day at the ponds of Rivers Edge Natural Area, bolstered by hot coffee, pastries and good company. It should be a good bit warmer for next month's Rivers Edge gathering, on Thursday April 17th, two days after the general meeting.
Here's the flyer that will be used to inform families about this year's derby. Please share the information with friends and family - anyone who might want to participate in this popular annual event.
2025 Loveland Kids Fishing Derby
Saturday, May 17th 8 a.m. to 1 p.m.
North Lake Park Duck Pond. Open to kids up to age 15
Registration is free; to qualify for raffle prizes, kids should register before starting to fish at the Fishing Club’s booth in the high school parking lot east of Duck Pond or at the shelter on the west side of the pond.
By Bill Prater
Newcomers to the Loveland Fishing Club often ask, “Who is the best angler in these parts?” Even when my name doesn’t come up, there is considerable debate over what even constitutes “best.” This is a subject more divisive than the best way to skin a catfish. Nonetheless, we are prepared to answer.
The problem is, this sport is infested with narrow-minded anglers dedicated to one darned species or another: bass, trout, walleye, bluegill, carp. But the truth is, there is neither a single best sportfish nor a single best way to catch them. Dave, Barb, George, Kathleen, John may tell you something different, based on their angling skills of choice. But the Honest to Abe truth is:
You can catch a hell of a lot more fish if you drastically downsize your gear and stop worrying about which species or size of fish should be encouraged to take a bite of your worm. There is a related truth you may not be prepared for: You really oughta just appreciate whatever kind of fish is nice enough to cooperate on any given day.
The best angler, then, or at least the one I admire, is the guy or gal who regularly sizes up the water they’re given, chooses miniscule baits with big appeal, and then proceeds to catch whatever swims by that day. I am impressed by anyone who wins a bass tournament, or harvests a limit of tasty walleye; I truly am. These require skills and single-minded dedication I admittedly lack. But I do try to emulate the guy or gals who regularly win the Loveland Fishing Club’s monthly Fish Bingo contest for catching the most species of fish in the previous 30 days, regardless of size of fish, weather conditions or chosen body of water.
These days I fish totally from the shore or an aging but seaworthy Fat Cat belly boat. This mostly confines fishing to smaller lakes and ponds, but it turns out, that’s okay. Buddies and I do sneak onto bigger water when the weather turns blustery enough to discourage paddleboarders and wake boats. We also, by necessity, fish with the speed of a predatory turtle. We do it for fun, and because it catches fish.
One revelation I’ve had in the past decade is that some - not all - small public fishing holes are home to healthy populations of small, medium and big fish. They’re just typically hard to find because they feel vulnerable and live in a scary place, like introverts in New York City.
Admission time here: I admit, I stopped eating what I catch a long time ago; fish to me are more like friends than snacks. At some point in a life spent seriously fishing, harvesting starts to seem like dating the neighbor girl you’ve known since first grade. You can do it, even enjoy it. But for some reason it just doesn’t seem right. Some people question the ethics of bothering the fish at all with no intention of having them for lunch. But I enjoy their company, not their taste. Also, I selfishly want a lot of them around when I return. Which is why I also crimp the barbs of my hooks, don’t tell Tom Miller where I’m going, or post too many details on the Loveland Fishing Club blog or Fish Explorer.Those who moan about frozen lakes and ponds can rest easy: the high winds and higher temps of the past week have blown away the ice caps of most water.
The ponds of Rivers Edge Natural Area, the Recycle Pond, Westerdoll, Heinrici and others are virtually clear, except for thin ice mostly along the south edges. The Marina Inlet at Boyd was still locked up Wednesday afternoon, but much of the lake appears open, and nearby Horseshoe was open as well. There was still ice across some of Lake Loveland, but it's mostly ice free as well.
Fishing's going to be slow yet for awhile, but this is a great time to get out and see what's biting. Fished Recycle for an hour or so Thursday, and found a couple of gullible trout.
By Bill Prater
Usually when a fisherman starts a conversation with, “Truth be told…” everyone nearby knows to groan and grow wary. He or she is either about to lie about fish or fishing spot, or feeling guilty over what they lied about. In my case, though, truth be told, I gave away my perfectly usable boat because I really didn’t care to fish from it anymore. And I really didn’t want to sell it.
Let me explain.
My brother Paulie (the Reverend Paul to everyone else) found
that boat for me at a bargain price 25 years ago, beginning to rust away in the
back of a sales lot in Central Illinois. For the next quarter century that 18
½-foot bass boat took over an entire bay of the Prater garage. But it also
started up with a roar nearly every time she was on the water, and reliably took
us where we wanted to go. During all those years, a healthy chunk of my favorite
fishing time was spent with that annoying older brother of mine. My elder by just
10 ½ months (Dad called me his “six-week checkup baby”), Paulie pestered me relentlessly as older brothers will. But he also taught me all sorts of
useful things -- including how and when it’s okay for even a Methodist minister’s
kid brother to lie about fishing. And after he passed away two years ago, I gradually
realized I hadn’t sat in that boat ever again.
Aw, truthfully, the situation wasn’t that
melodramatic. Stuff like crowded docks, Covid, paddleboarders, wake boats and evolving fishing preferences all figured into the equation. But whatever the
motivation, I learned this about myself: I really didn’t want to sell
that old boat. Didn’t seem right. So rather than glance her way with
regret every time I got in and out of the truck, last fall I just donated that
old Bass Tracker to the “Make A Wish” Foundation. Hopefully it’s funded
a kid’s trip to Disney World, or fishing trip with Kevin VanDam.
Also, truth be told, these days I get more satisfaction and
fish with my aging but still seaworthy float tube and increasingly tiny baits
and gear. And now, over the next few months, I plan to share what I and a few enlightened
Loveland Fishing Club fishing buddies are learning about the still-evolving
sport of multi-species, micro finesse fishing. Between now and open water
season, I plan to share a few of those tactics with a truthiness astonishing from
an old, old northern Colorado angler.
Paulie in the back of the boat. Below, mine's bigger.
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The air was a good bit colder and the ice a good bit thicker than expected Tuesday, when John Grady and friends stepped out for a day of fishing on a Loveland pond. Rumor has it he was using minnows to land and release three chubby largemouth, including the one below. Let us know when you've been out there and what you've found.
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| Photo by Wayne Baranczyk |
The largemouth easily earns Colorado Master Angler status, at 117 percent of qualifying standard, and at least one bluegill measured close to a Master Angler qualifying 10 inches. But neither is eligible for the Club's Big Fish Contest for 2025, since they came from private waters not open to all club members. So start tallying up some fish of your own.
Yeah, it's a bit chilly this weekend. But that'll make things seem downright balmy by next Thursday, Jan. 23rd, at 9 a.m. down at St. Vrain State Park east of Longmont. Whether you're a grizzled ice fishing veteran with more gear than common sense, or never set foot on frozen water, this is a day for you.
