The Audobon Society Field Guide to North American Fishes, Whales & Dolphins does not show "mudcat" as the name of any North American fish. As used in Fish and Game departments in Kansas and nearby states, the term "mudcat" has traditionally (not necessarily scientifically) been used to distinguish all catfish who characteristically live in slow flowing, silty, and sometimes "brackish" water from those catfish that are usually found in streams with significant free flow.

According to this usage, almost any catfish other than a "channel catfish" is a mudcat. According to this tradition, the name "channel catfish" was, in fact, created to distinguish this fish from "all of the others," which are 'mudcats.' Also, where this traditional usage is current, the channel catfish and the blue catfish are about the only representatives of the category "not mudcat" in the (edible) catfish family.

The blue catfish was not recognized as a distinct type prior to the naming of the channel catfish, and shares many characteristics with the channel cat. When small, the two are almost indistinguishable, with the only accepted identification being to count the number of rays (bones) in the lateral fins. There is a difference, by two, in the number of bones in the laterals, between blues and channels. (Blues have become so rare here that I don't recall with certainty, but I believe the blue has two bones more than the channel in each lateral fin.)

There are a number of "historical" photos of very large Kansas catfish, up to 6 feet or more in length and reportedly up to 400 pounds or a little more, most of which are presumed to have been blues. Because of the difficulty of distinguishing the specific species, the notorious inaccuracy of trading post scales, and the stubborn refusal of the gamefish people to accept dynamite as a "sporting method," all of these are denied listing in "official" records.

The virtual disappearance of blue catfish from the central part of the nation is more accurately attributed to the damming of rivers and streams than to overfishing. Both blues and channels require free flowing waters for successful spawning, with the blues apparently being even more susceptible than channels to failure of the spawn (largely due to fungal attack of the immature eggs, if not "cleaned" by flowing water). Blues needed to migrate upstream, to find clear flowing water, to spawn; and when their passage was blocked by dams, the spawns became largely unsuccessful. There has been some resurgence where newer dams incorporate continuous flow spillways, and the blues can use the spillway flow; but older "industrial" dams generally permitted a flow only when flow was wanted to "turn the wheel." A massive dam building surge in the 1930s (which reportedly gave Kansas more man-made lakes than any other state) generally used simple earthen dams with nothing but an "overflow" spillway, who's intermittent flow would not support blue catfish passage or downstream reproduction.

The current Kansas record for blue cat is 94 pounds, 57 inches long, caught on rod and reel with shad bait in 2000. (US record, 116 lb 12 oz, Arkansas) Obviously, the blues are not "gone," but there are none of the big old boys left.

The largest catfish on record in Kansas is the state record flathead catfish, at 123 pounds, 63 inches long, caught in 1998. (Perhaps surprisingly, that is currently the US record flathead.) Catches in the 60 pound range are not too uncommon here.

The record channel catfish, for Kansas, is "only" 34 lb 11 oz, 40 inches long. (US record is 58 lb, North Carolina.) While I know several people who claim to have caught channel cats near, or a little over our state record size, fish in this range are common enough that it's likely many are not submitted for recording before being eaten.

The "bullhead" in Kansas is any of a few recognized and specifically identifiable species, primarily black bullheads and a few brown bullheads, with a Kansas record of 7 lb 5.4 oz, 24.5 inches long, caught in 1985. Although tiny, the bullhead is a very game fish. I can imagine that anyone who hooked a 7 pound bullhead would think (s)he had something more like a 20 pound channel on the line. (The US record black bullhead is 7 lb 7 oz, New York; brown bullhead is 11 lb 5/8 oz, Washington; yellow bullhead is 7 lb 5 oz, Illinois. Kansas records don't list these separately due to the small number found here.)

The Audobon Field Guide indicates 5 genera and 39 species of "bullhead catfishes (Ictaluridae)" native to North America, using the name "bullhead" interchangeably with the genus "Ictaluridae," and hence including virtually all (except flathead, Pylodictis olivaris) North American catfish under that name. Most fishers (of catfish) would say that's an improper usage, probably the result of consulting some professor who wouldn't know which end of the worm to stick the hook into (it matters).

While Audobon uses "bullhead" for the entire genus Ictalurus (hence making any catfish, except the flathead, a bullhead), there are numerous "bullhead" named species, including the black bullhead, yellow bullhead, brown bullhead, and spotted bullhead. Those who fish for them, or for other catfish, generally use "bullhead" only in the species sense.

To complicate things, the whole genus Noturus, which includes the madtoms and stonecats, are not, according to Audobon, bullheads, but many of these are called bullheads in local vernacular. Perhaps fortunately, most of these are fairly localized in habitat. The people who accidentally step on a madtom while wading are entitled to call it anything they want, which is usually something like "#@$!\*!!." (Only stonecats and madtoms actually have venomous spines, although a few others feel like they do when the "fin" you.)

In colloquial "fishperson" usage, madtoms and stonecats are not included when speaking generically of "catfish," since they're not usually considered edible. It avoids having to end every sentence with "except the &%^@# madtoms."

Persons who actively fish for large catfish in my area comprise a subculture with rich traditions and lore, and with camaraderie akin to that of a bunch of ruggers. Normal people avoid them.

Persons who actually catch significant numbers of large catfish (by "legal" methods) are a distinctly separate and much smaller subculture. They are characteristically secretive, spend long hours lurking in dark places, and are so antisocial that most people don't fully believe in their existence. (Sort of like "the armadillo that made it across the road." Can't happen.)

John