Kentucky River fishing is like a box of chocolates: You never know what you’re going to ….

By Chris Poore

As the boat departed from the ramp and made its way under the fog-hidden High Bridge in Jessamine County, Elliott Hess leaned back and looked up at the bluffs above him.

Sun kissed the big rock ledges. Birds departed silently from treetops. Fog danced on the surface of the Kentucky River.

Hess, a 22-year-old photographer and a student at UK, grew up in Lexington and wandered all over Fayette County as a kid to find the next perfect fishing hole: a golf course pond here, a church pond there, a stream behind a city park.

But his experience with the Kentucky River, like that of many Central Kentuckians, had been limited to the vantage point of the I-64 and U.S. 27 bridges.

So given the chance to explore the river up close, Hess didn’t hesitate.

As the boat made its way on this 16-mile trip from High Bridge to below the dam at lock Number 8, Hess was moved by the river’s beauty.

“I almost don’t care if we catch fish today,” he said.

It was an angler’s version of “knocking on wood,” but it was an unneeded sentiment this day.

By sunset, Hess and his fishing partner had caught eight species of fish — crappie, largemouth bass, smallmouth bass, spotted bass, sunfish, white bass, a brown trout, and an eight-pound catfish — most on a white jig with a curly tailed grub. Many were caught near the dam. Others were caught at the confluences of the Kentucky and its tributaries. The catfish was parked under a tree that had fallen in the water.

It was the kind of day many anglers dream of having.

It was also the kind of day that’s not too uncommon on Kentucky rivers if anglers are willing to work a little bit, said Jeff Crosby, central district biologist for the Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources.

“It does take a little time and a more serious angler to learn how to fish a river,” Crosby said. “But after you learn river fishing you can go anywhere in that river and catch a fish.”

And unlike most lakes, a river myriad of habitats make it resemble, well, a box of chocolates.

“You never know what you’re going to catch,” Crosby said.

The fish and wildlife department has been working the past few years at making that river fishing experience even more exciting. River biologist Doug Henley and the department began a stocking program a few years ago in an effort to improve fishing for sauger, white bass, hybrid bass and musky. Some leftover black bass fry are also stocked if they’re available.

It takes about three years to get a true read on whether stocking efforts are working, Crosby said, so this is the first year that electro fishing results have produced meaningful measurements.

The results are promising, he said.

“We went this spring and saw that white bass, hybrids, sauger … are all starting to pick up,” he said. “I’ve been very impressed with the river over the last few years.”

In years past, stocking efforts produced better fishing, but the department didn’t allocate the same kinds of resources to measure success over time. Crosby said this effort hopes to better track which stocking efforts produce the best results.

Kentucky’s rivers offer productive territory for a wide array of fish.

“A river can have a variety of habitat in a short distance – sandy, rocky, the habitat is constantly changing,” Henley said.

Some stretches have relatively still water. Others have current.

Most river pools in Kentucky also have dams, below which can be the ultimate in river fishing.

Tailwaters produce oxygenated water that concentrates baitfish. Predators that chase baitfish love marauding for food below a dam, especially during summer, when the cooler, moving water offers a respite from slower-moving pools.

If the fishing below a dam is good, you’re likely to see a telltale sign as you approach: a lot of people fishing. Good news travels fast.

To Henley, the trip up the river itself makes the fishing more excited. Instead of motoring across a wide expanse of water, you motor around one bend after another.

“To me river fishing can be frustrating but it can also be leisurely if you choose to make it so,” Henley said. “ Around every bend is something different. It’s like a big adventure.”

It’s a good thing, because like most fishing, river fishing is by no means perfect. In fact, it can be much more difficult than a lake depending on the weather and current and water color.

A month of bad weather can mess up fishing for years to come. If a lot of rain keeps the river out of its banks during key spawning times, the population can be much more dramatically affected in future years than a lake’s fish population would be.

Also, some fish – like white bass – like current for spawning. Others, like largemouth bass, like still water. Depending on the weather, either population could suffer.

Relatively stable to near-drought weather the last few years has actually produced some good reproduction on the Kentucky River for all species. It remains to be seen how this year’s heavy rains will affect fish.

Of course, none of this was on Elliott Hess’ mind when he fished the Kentucky for the first time a few weeks ago. After 15 hours on the water, his fishing partner finally had to give him a five-minute warning as he pulled the boat up to the confluence of the Kentucky and Dix rivers near High Bridge.

It had rained the previous few days, so Kentucky Utilities was releasing water from Herrington Lake through the dam and into the Dix. The cold water from the bottom of the lake produces excellent trout fishing directly below the dam.

But trout usually don’t venture down as far as the Kentucky River.

As Hess and his friend pulled up to the confluence, his partner immediately caught a white bass using a Rooster Tail. Then Hess caught a largemouth using a Storm crawfish crankbait.

Both were excited but watching the sky, knowing it’d be a lot easier to get the boat out of the water before dark.

Then Hess’ rod jerked down toward the water. Hess jumped up from his seat and started pulling the fish toward the boat. Thinking he had a big largemouth, Hess tried to horse the fish into the boat instead of giving it time to wear out in the water.

As he pulled it up over the boat’s gunnels, he saw that the fish was a brown trout that had ventured far from its typical home. The heft of the fish – at least 23 inches in length – cracked the crawfish bait in half and the big brown fell to the boat’s floor.

Both men stood and stared at the fish for a moment, not believing what had happened. They had just caught their eighth species of fish, and it was true that they had had no idea what they were going to get.

As they headed back to the boat ramp, the excitement was slow to wear off. Both men counted how many fish they had caught that day. They talked about when they might be able to get back to the river and who else they might be able to bring along.

Then Hess, the photographer, shook his head.

“I can’t believe I didn’t bring a camera,” he said.