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A few weeks ago I wrote about tangling with triggerfish during my vacation in the Outer Banks.

No visual evidence of my exploits existed because I realized upon my return to the 'Noke that my beloved little Canon Powershot G9 camera had not made the return journey with us.

I assumed the camera had gotten punted out of my too-full truck during a stop on our trip's final two days. It wasn't labeled, so even if someone found it, they would have had a hard, if not impossible, time tracking me down.

But this picture is that visual evidence, so clearly the camera is back in my hands.

About a week ago we got a call from the Ramada Plaza on Nags Head beach. We had spent the final night of our trip there because we had a cottage for a week but needed and extra day so I could race in the Outer Banks Triathlon (which became a run-bike-run duathlon due to dangerous surf from Hurricane Bill).

In the message the manager said they had a camera they thought might be ours. It was. Apparently the cleaning crew found it in the room. It got stuffed somewhere with a note listing the room number and date found, but no manager was notified, which is why it took so long for them to contact us. The manager was actually apologetic, which was totally unnecessary. I was grateful that they made the effort to find me, and return the camera promptly (via FedEx) when they confirmed it was mine. I can tell you who I will call first next time I'm looking for a motel room in the Nags Head area.

Of course I have since purchased a new point-and-shoot camera. It's a Canon D10, which is waterproof so actually better for me in many ways because I can use it on fishing trips without sweating getting it wet. In fact, I've already had it out a couple of times and taken a few undwerwater shots (I'll post one here one of these days). My wife doesn't mind. She's already laid claim to the G9.

With the arrival this week of cool weather, as well as the quickly approaching bow opener, many of us are focusing on hunting season. But plenty of folks are still fishing, and doing well.

Doug Goldsmith sent me this shot of his buddy, Paul Johnson of Salem, with an awesome New River smallmouth bass. The fish was 20.5 inches long and was the biggest of a recent day they spent on the river's Whitethorn section. They were drifting and bouncing baits along the bottom, and also took a number of fish in the 14- to 18-inch range.

I actually got on the James yesterday for a few hours. I didn't focus on fishing but did have my gear and spent some time casting. I caught a few smallish bass on Senkos. The water is pretty low, but still better than it has been at this time the past few years.

The highlight of the day was when I spotted a large fish near a tree that had recently toppled into the water. At first I thought "carp," but then I realized the thing was at least 3 feet long. Muskie! It had seen me and was swimming so there was no point to even fish for it. But at least I know where he was so maybe I can go back there and try for him later this fall.

I also saw four river otters bobbing around together. I'll say this: They were cute. But those things can really do a number on fish populations.

Just before I left on vacation I took the last couple trips for the Tucked-Away Treasures series photographer Sam Dean and I did this summer. Sam was out of town for the ninth trip, so I hauled my daughters along to Holliday Lake near Appomattox.

The lake, part of Holliday Lake State Park, is a pretty good haul -- about a 90-minute drive -- from Roanoke. But the place is beautiful and the fishing was pretty good, especially for Jerry Hughes, pictured here with his impressive fly rod catch of hand-sized sunfish.

Admittedly, I probably won't return to a few of the places we visited on our adventure. This isn't one of them. I'm really looking forward to getting back there next spring when the big bluegills are on their spawning beds.

I hoped to get back into this by posting a shot of me with a nice stringer of triggerfish I caught during our Outer Banks vacation, which just ended yesterday. However, that picture is on my little Canon PowerShot G9 camera, which I can't find.

I'm hoping the camera turns up but I have scoured my bags and my truck and I'm pretty doubtful. I guess it might have ended up on the floorboard in its little soft case and then kicked out at some point either Saturday or Sunday. Foolishly, I didn't have it labled, so if that happened it's gone forever. Fortunately, we didn't have too many shots on it because I mostly used another camera.

The fish picture wasn't special. Just me holding up a stringer with six 2-pound triggerfish on it.

A day earlier I had gone for a swim from the beach near the cottage north to the pier at the Army Corps of Engineers research facility at Duck. The pier isn't open to the public (except for guided tours) but you can walk under it on the beach, and fish and swim around the thing. Not many people do because there is no beach access for maybe 500 yards on either side of it so people just don't go there to set up there beach camps.

As I was getting out of the water I saw a guy in snorkle gear with a speargun. I started talking with him (Brett from New Jersey) and he said he was getting ready to go out after triggerfish and spadefish. I asked if I could tag along.

We swam maybe 100 yards out and set up his dive flag, then went toward their pier. Within a few seconds he had a 2-pound triggerfish on his spear.

He had a stringer on his dive float, but getting the fish on it wasn't simple. Triggerfish have just a tiny gill opening and there's no way to thread a stringer hook through it. So he had to cut a hole in the bottom on the jaw and pop the stringer hook through that. I was helping him when I got careless and got my thumb near the fish's mouth.

Has anyone seen the teeth on a triggerfish? Think horse teeth -- but sharp. The fish got me good. Had it been a little closer to the end of my thumb, it probably would have nipped the whole end off. As it was, it was a couple of deep gouges.

Brett ended up getting four triggerfish on that first run before he headed in to put them in a cooler. I headed back down the beach with grand ambitions to get an inexpensive pole spear at a local dive shop and come back the next day.

By the next morning I'd come to my senses (in part because the nearest dive shop was 20 miles south) and decided that it would probably be better for me to just fish there. So I rented an Ocean Kayak Scrambler, bought a container of shrimp for bait and got ready.

About 10 a.m. I paddled the mile north to the pier, put a shrimp on the hook and dropped it next to a piling about 150 yards off the beach. Instant hit. But no fish.

Triggerfish are also notorious bait stealers and hooking them can be tricky. Eventually I hooked one and it put up an awesome fight. They are platter shaped, like sunfish or spadefish, and they use it to their advantage. I've caught only a couple of spadefish, but I think triggers fight every bit as hard.

But the time I dealt with the fish (it's pretty interesting to have a snapping triggerfish in a kayak with you) I had drifted 100 yards farther north. I paddled back and repeated the process.

The short of it is I got a hit every time the bait went down. I caught probably 10 fish, and kept a half-dozen. I ran out of real shrimp pretty quickly but I found that Berkley Gulp shrimp was just as effective and much more durable.

While the action was fast at the pilings, huge pods of bait were all around me in the open water, and schools of bluefish were blitzing them from time to time. Eventually I tied on a spoon and fooled with them for a bit, but the blues were just little so I went back to the pilings.

I repeated the trip the next day with similar results. Paddling back south against a stiff breeze that afternoon was a real chore so I wasn't too eager to go again. As it turned out, with the swell from Hurricane Bill picking up daily, that was pretty much the end of the ocean fishing window anyway. 

Then it was time to catch some waves. But that's another story...

Here's a shot of Vinton angler Travis Patsell with a great sheepshead he caught during a recent trip to the Outer Banks. Travis is an absolute fishing nut, and he thinks the OBX are paradise for that. In many ways, they are.

We're headed that way in the morning.

About a month ago an opportunity to rent a house for a week for a really good rate fell in our lap and we jumped at it. We'll be in Duck, toward the northern end of the Outer Banks. We may take a trip one day down to a fishing hot spot such as Oregon Inlet (where I understand some of the beach driving restrictions have been eased). But it wouldn't surprise me if the extent of my fishing is just working the surf around Duck for spot, whiting, croaker, little bluefish and the sort.

I may take my laptop down there but I don't know how often I'll be able to access my e-mail or the Internet. In fact, I don't really want to. Isn't vacation supposed to be about getting away from that kind of stuff?

Anyway, this could be my last blog entry until Aug. 23 or 24. Until then, tight lines and keep shooting those bows.

The other day I was in the photo department discussing the Tucked-Away Treasures series with photographer Sam Dean. Another shooter piped up, "I want to go on next summer's series."

I was holding a print of this photo at the time. I showed it to the photographer and said, "Yeah, doesn't this look like fun?"

This rainy day at Hungry Mother Lake was stop two on a 30-hour trip that included five hours of driving and a "break" spent trying to sleep for a few hours in a leaky tent. Plus, the fishing sucked.

Who wouldn't want to do that, huh?

As anyone who spends a lot of time outdoors -- being it hiking, fishing, hunting, biking, paddling, or whatever -- knows, it can get kind of miserable out there.

I'm not complaining. I love the outdoors, and being out there in difficult conditions is part of the deal. I'd go as far as saying it's part of the fun. I'd be out there anyway, so it's a nice bonus when it's actually part of the job.

I hope those of you who read The Roanoke Times have seen the series I'm working on this summer.

Since June, photographer Sam Dean and I have been traveling to some of Virginia's smaller public lakes, talking to the anglers we meet along the way, and sampling the fishing at places that typically don't get a lot of attention.

Being something of a fly fishing snob, Sam has pretty much stuck with that type of tackle, while I've been fishing with conventional gear. My approach has usually been more productive, but fly gear has been better on waters that are more heavily pressured.

We struggled to figure out a name for the series, and eventually settled on "Tucked Away Treasures," which was a line in the story about the first destination, Lexington Reservoir.

Because Sam was going to be on vacation this week, we pulled a double last week, hitting Lake Witten near Tazewell one afternoon, camping, then going to another lake not too far away. (The identity of the second lake will be revealed when the story runs on Sunday.)

We had high hopes for Witten. It's got some monster bass, a few of which can be seen in this gallery on the DGIF's Web site. But it's clear and gets a ton of pressure, so I figured our best hope was to catch something after dark. Unfortunately, just as it was getting dark a nasty thunderstorm rolled in and we had to get off the water.

Not only was the fishing trip disappointing, but we were really sweating dinner. Sam had picked up a couple steaks that we planned to grill over the campfire. But first we needed a fire. Fortunately, Sam is probably the best fire starter I've ever seen. Seriously. Even in the pouring rain he got one going. He did knock one steak into the fire but I was able to retrieve it with my Leatherman's pliers. Sam ate it.

If you've missed any or all of the stories, Chris Zaluski in our online department has put together a cool interactive map with links to the stories, photos and the great videos Sam has done at most of the lakes.

We've got two more trips to do. One is set and we're pretty sure about the final installment. But I'd be happy to entertain suggestions.

My good buddy Christian Berg, who is the editor of Petersen's Bowhunting magazine, sent me this shot that he got from his bowhunting pal, Bob Danenhower Sr. (right).

Danenhower, who lives in Orefield, Pa., had an awesome day of bowfishing for rays around Chincoteague with his son Brent. Over three days of hunting with guide Randy Birch they saw more than 50 rays, and got nine of them into the boat. This one hanging is 120 pounds.

I talked to Danenhower and he said the meat from these things is really tasty. I've heard that before but have never tried it.

These guys are using rigs similar to the one I use for bowfishing, except my recurve is newer (and less valuable). Brent's bow is a Bear Super Kodiak Magnum and Bob's is an old, metal riser Black Widow. I told Danenhower I thought he was crazy to use vintage bows for bowfishing, which is really hard on gear. But Danenhower, who said he has about 300 bows in his collection, said he'd rather be using them than just letting them sit and collect dust.

I got back late last night from a two-day trip for the Tucked Away Treasures series Sam Dean and I have been doing on fishing on some of Western Virginia's smaller public lakes.

We spent a few hours yesterday afternoon at the Bath County Recreation ponds, and had the chance to meet Chasten Taylor (left), her sister Tresten, and their cousin Jacob. The kids were from West Virginia, and were at the ponds with their grandfather, Ralph Hamilton.

The kids were a hoot, and I love this shot Sam got of them posing with their mess of bluegills. Fifteen-year-old Chasten and 11-year-old Tresten were really giving 12-year-old Jacob a hard time. He had caught only two fish and they made sure he didn't forget that. They were also teasing him for being "short." Jacob was a good sport, and I think he'll get the last laugh. At least about the height thing.

As promised, here's the second shot Ralph sent.

You've got to respect a guy who will share not only the good from his adventures afield, but also the ugly!

And, man, two Owner trebles buried deep in a guy's head looks ugly.

Ralph's son, Justin, was the unlucky receipient of the plug in the head -- something that can happen when three people are fishing out of a 15-foot boat.

The good news is Justin said the pain really wasn't bad. The bad news is he was so surprised by the blow that he dropped an expensive rod and reel combo into the lake. (Guess Ralph owes his boy a new outfit, huh?)

The trio headed off to hospital in Bedford where a doctor quickly removed the hooks, then had an early breakfast at McDonald's before heading home to download and laugh at the pictures from their interesting night on Smith Mountain Lake.