COVINGTON, Ky.—A vulture coasted away as I slid down the dike by the Licking River. Across from what looked like a mulching/recycling business with a barge tied up and downstream of an old railroad bridge, the spot felt like fishing the Calumet.
When traveling, I bring a two-piece spinning rod, then scout online. I usually find a couple hours to fish. This time, a longer anniversary trip, I brought two rods and bought a seven-day non-resident Kentucky license ($35).
Online search turned up little, but the Fishbrain app had catfish—blues, channels and flatheads—as most reported.
I found a classic bait shop, Latonia Bait and Tackle, 60 years in the business, close to where we stayed. It felt like home.
“There’s very little along the Licking River, it’s mostly private property, Dennis Wood said. “It’s mostly Fishing in Neighborhoods.”
Kentucky’s FINs provides fishing close to home. But I wanted to fish the Licking and Ohio rivers, within walking distance.
“You can catch about anything in the river: catfish, bass, white crappie, black crappie, gar,” said Wood, who even sold eels and mooneye as bait.
I bought Nitro crawlers and tackle to go with wax worms I brought.
Fishing flowing water, I look for eddies, holes, cover or obstructions. In urban areas, that can be shopping carts, discarded cars or bridge pilings.
First day, the Licking moved so slow, I couldn’t figure it out, though I did get to see a surprisingly strong mayfly hatch.
Walking with my wife that evening, I spotted an angler’s path through the brush. The next morning, I found an eddy formed by a slight bend. It held catfish. I never figured out the gar, surfacing sporadically, even when I switched to a spinner.
The final morning, a great blue heron kept fishing 20 feet away as I set up at dawn where the Licking joined the Ohio. The heron held its ground. I was the out-of-towner.
It was at small neglected public park, General James Taylor Park, which my wife and I found one evening winding through riverboat parking to picnic tables above an overgrown shoreline at the confluence.
Fishing, I realized why I do this. Spots like this have natural and urban beauty. Across the Ohio was Great American Ball Park, where we had walked to a game on the historic John A. Roebling Suspension Bridge, a cousin of the Brooklyn Bridge.
As befits morning, wildlife was alive. Canada geese waddled through my gear, mallards swam past, two swallow species dived while song sparrows and house finches called. Carp breached by my floats, but didn’t touch my baits. Then a muskrat swung from the Licking into the Ohio. Why? I have no idea.
It was time.
Within two hours we were packed and headed home.
Wild things
Feels like a dearth of fireflies (lightning bugs).
Stray cast
On the lakefront, the Grant Park 220 was to the 2000 BASS Master Classic what a 14-inch smallmouth bass is to a 7-inch rock bass.
