‘Monsters’ in the Cedar River

The first bank pole we checked was within spitting distance of the boat ramp.

Yet the steep bank at that spot meant it would be safe from the curious hands of Lookie Lous. A white, fiberglass rod protruded from the bank at about a 45 degrees angle, a heavy line descended from the tip to the water. The rod and line were still.

Minor motored the boat in an arc from the ramp to downstream of the pole and then drifted up to it. At the bow, Joe reached for the line and declared it empty.

And so our quest for the monsters of the Cedar River began: O for one.

Flathead catfish are the monsters of our rivers. They go by nicknames like “yellow cat” and “mud cat.” These fish are apex predators. With powerful and fast gulps, the maw of the flathead is a one way journey for anything that might fit.

Channel catfish are the most common of the game species of catfish, they thrive in rivers and hold their own in ponds and lakes. The Blue catfish is a behemoth associated with the biggest of waters — like the Missouri, Mississippi and Ohio Rivers. But between our two rivers the flathead reigns.

The state record flathead is 81 pounds. The record channel catfish is 38 pounds, 2 ounces by comparison. Channel cats can be farmed for market, but the flathead is too wild to cultivate. What I’m trying to say is that flatheads are special.

These fish feed at night. During daylight they rest in river bottom snags or holes. But after the sun sets, they commence to prowl the shallows. Like leopards, they are attuned to any disturbance and then exploit the cover of darkness to satisfy their hunger.

We four motored downriver, checking the poles set on the left bank. The lines were baited the night before. All night a live fish tugged at the bank pole. While channel cats will greedily feed on chicken livers, dead shad or stinkbait, flatheads demand live prey. Bullheads are the preferred bait but any good size legal baitfish, like a green sunfish, will do.

We passed a group of pelicans resting on a sandbar. Ours was the only craft on an overcast and cool summer morning. Five empty sets on the left bank had the crew on edge.

Minor piloted us to the right bank and toward the most downstream set. He killed the engine, momentum pushed us to the pole. Joe shouted it was bobbing a little. I heard someone behind me remark it might be a channel catfish.

Joe grabbed the line and confirmed we had a fish. I handed him the net. Once he dug in the water with the net, I saw a large olive-yellow body and knew that was no channel cat. And more to the point it was a big fish.

He swung it aboard and exclaimed, “That’s what we’ve been waiting for, that’s about 16 (pounds).” Someone else cried out, “...we didn’t bring a tub!” On the floor it went. Joe was right, we were waiting for a big flathead but he was wrong on the weight, it went a touch over 19 pounds on a good scale and taped 35 inches.

Our next pole held a three pound channel catfish, a fine fish in its own right, but next to the big flathead it looked like bait.

Setting bank poles for catfish is an old practice to take advantage of the bounty of the river — and to let the pole work while you sleep. In that respect, it is like trapping. I reason the correlation to those who set bank lines in the summer and those who put out traps for fur-bearers in the winter is pretty much a straight line.

Traditionally a bank pole is a freshly cut length of willow, jammed into the water’s edge. Its tip is rigged with a heavy line, a heavy weight and a heavy hook. The pole only needs to hold the fish, so it needs to flex for the initial struggles made by a freshly caught fish. After that, it’s a waiting game til morning when the angler returns and decides to keep or release.

Another special feature of the flathead is its flesh. The crew I accompanied swore up-and-down flathead catfish was superior table fare. Not just against channel cats but any other fish. So far I have to take their word on it.

The fourth and final morning of the run was bright and warm. I was back with the trio, we were still alone on the river. Today, they would pull lines because the river was falling and they’d had their fill of twice-daily trips to attend to the lines.

The hidden-in-plain-sight pole was first and it had a fish. A flathead right off the bat. This fish would go 8.2 pounds. Alas, as we made our way downstream, checking then pulling the sets, all the remaining left bank poles were untouched.

Ditto for the right bank as we made our way back upriver. John motioned for me to look for an unusual feature in the river that startled him from the night before. He said it looked like a man in midriver. As we rounded the bend, I didn’t see that, instead I saw the long neck and head of a beast surfacing. Maybe flatheads aren't the only monsters of the Cedar?

Looking up, looking ahead, and keeping my pencil sharp.

John Lawrence Hanson, Ed.D., of Marion, teaches U.S. history with an emphasis on environmental issues at Linn-Mar High School and is past president of the Linn County Conservation Board.