The puddles had thawed and the sun was out, but the chances of getting bit were still slim. Brian Gambill, ace fly fishing guide, was as anxious to go fishing as I. He thought for a moment, then raised his finger to the sky and said, "Pickerel, they'll chase anything, anytime."

We wanted to go fly fishing, so anything, anytime is what we needed. At that time I just didn't realize that our last resort would be a picture perfect park retreat. We headed east to Dangerfield State Park southeast of Mount Pleasant. In the park is a beautiful 80-acre lake that hosts one of the most aggressive freshwater fish in Texas: the chain pickerel.

The pickerel isn't a large fish. A relative of the Northern Pike and the Muskie, the pickerel has the perfect body shape for ambushing prey. We were hoping that even in the cold water, they would attack our flies. White EHRs (egg yarn, hackle, rabbit hair) were attached to the most important part of the line: the shock leader. Pickerel, though slim in stature, have a formidable set of teeth. A 10-inch piece of 20-pound hard-monofilament line will suffice, but be sure to check the leader after every fish.
Soon we were in the clear water of the pine-surrounded, secluded lake. We started hitting the bank and working the structure. Fallen logs, stumps, weed lines and lily pad clumps were our targets. Pickerel like to lie-in-wait for something to move into its strike zone, much like a largemouth bass.

Brian Gambill casts his fly along the shore and across the shallow flats in search of the chain pickerel. The beauty of Dangerfield State Park can distract any angler, but the pickerel's aggressive strike will remind you soon enough why you are there.

In, fact they usually inhabit the same water and prey upon the same food, the difference being that a bass will depend on its massive gills to open and suck water and prey into its mouth at the last moment. The largemouth can then swallow or close its gills to "spit" the lure in most cases back out as most anglers can attest to. The pickerel's attack is all teeth. It relies on the speed of the attack and its teeth to snare its prey.

What the pickerel doesn't have in gut-size it definitely makes up for with its aggressive style.
I kept flinging my fly at fallen logs watching more that I didn't catch Brian's ear than where my fly went. Brian, on the other hand, was looking for fish. Guarding his eyes against the sun with his hand, peering through the polarized sunglasses, he was actually leaning over the front of the boat trying to get just that much closer. He looked like a bonefish guide in the Bahamas (except for the jacket, long pants and pine trees).

The trolling motor took a 10-degree turn and I knew. He saw a swirl, "Look, right there." he said pointing with his rod. "His fin is still on the top of the water."

One lift, back and he gave it a forward twitch. Brian's line landed five feet to the right of the pickerel that lie-in-wait.
Strip ... strip ... splash. I watched the white fly glide through the patches of grass until it disappeared in an eruption of green, white and water splashing every which way.

Lake Fork fly fishing guide Brian Gambill holds onto a chain pickerel before detaching the EHR (egg yarn, hackle, rabbit hair) that the fish attacked at Dangerfield State Park lake.

The first thing you notice about the pickerel is the incredible strike. Next, as the fish runs along the boat, you'll catch a glimpse of the beautiful chain link pattern that adorns the long sides of the pickerel. Then up above the water, a violent head shake and a tail wagging, marlin-like acrobatic jump. After a couple of in-air experiences, the fish is alongside the boat and you'll see inside the mouth of the Texas version of a freshwater barracuda.

Teeth, teeth and more teeth, please do not grab these fish like you would a bass or crappie. The best way is to hold the line up so the fish is half out of the water. Then wet your hand and slide it up the body behind the gills until you get a firm grip. Then you can use a pair of needle nose pliers to get the hook out.

The front third of the pickerel's body is all mouth and teeth. The middle third is a slender flank of muscle, which provides the speed, etched with a green and white chained or interwoven pattern. The back third is full of fins which provides thrust for the vicious attack. So for this fish, the head is built for attack and the tail makes it happen and the middle makes for a great picture. Put them all together and the pickerel is a peck of a fish. (1peck=2 gallons)

Though not the biggest fish in the sea and often a nuisance to guides on lakes such as Cypress Springs, Pat Mayse and Caddo, these aggressive guerrilla fighter fish offer the inspired (lightweight tackle) angler a great challenge and a wonderful opportunity to do some sight casting.

"There's another one working that point." Brian said as he eased us up closer.

My fly cast isn't as effortless, elegant or as long as Brian's, but we got close enough without spooking the fish. My line landed and the fly rolled out to the end of the cast and set down close to the fish. I could see Brian wince. Maybe it had landed too close. Something falling from the sky can spook a fish. It is best to land to the side or past the fish, not right on his head, although sometimes anything, anytime will work.

After his wince of pain, Brian whispered more excitedly, "He's going for it."

I pulled in the line, tightening the slack, and then gave the fly about a six-inch strip. I knew I was standing on my line, so I glanced down for just a second to see how badly tangled I was. I don't even think it was a full second.

"Hit 'em!" Brian yelped as a pickerel bit my fly and took it into a patch of grassy darkness.

I lifted the rod as fast as when I felt the tension of a hook set. With the fish engaged, it came out of the water and tried to shake the fly loose. I knew it was champing on the shock leader, so I kept stripping in line not letting him run for more cover.

The back third of the fish again thrust the pickerel into the air. The delicate pattern danced across the top of the water as long as the tail could keep it aloft. The voracious mouth shaking violently trying to get loose from the EHR. But I had him good.
Soon he came alongside the boat and Brian got a hold of him. With the pliers he freed my fly from the mouth of teeth and then released the fish back into the water. We gathered in my mess of fly line and then started looking to the next patch of water.

Each cove of the small lake provided premiere pickerel action. You can cover water fast when fishing for pickerel. Brian says it is best to cast at least 10 feet apart each time. You will either catch the fish that is there or see a reaction, otherwise move on.
The shallow, clear water casting is the funnest. Two feet of water with lily pads and a sandy bottom make the perfect situation to watch a white EHR or anything disappear in the splash and the pull of a peck of pickerel.