Open The Gate

Sure, open the gate but to what, hog hunting? That was the plan but it fell apart because we went out to catch Bluegill for dinner and couldn't stop.

First Catch Of The Day

H.E. pulled out the first, big as a dinner plate, thank you very much, and they kept on coming, one enormous, piranhalike predator after another. Outstanding fishing, with more than enough and to spare.

Some Old Fool With A Fish

By the time the beasts were filleted, beer batter deep-fried and eaten, delicious, the pig hunting moment had passed. Not to worry, there's plenty of time to get on the porcuswine  in another evolution.

Keepers, The Rest Went Back

The next day, as the fierce Texan sun rose in the morning sky and the rest of the team slumbered, it seemed right to try the waters again. 

Typical

First off, a few familiar perch and that was fine, good fun, but you feel the need to change it up. So I went topwater with a torpedo in search of Bass and BANG!

Ho, Ho, Ho! A Bass!

After a few minutes of patient, twitching retrieve, Bass were exploding onto the lure with piscine fury. Big fun but word to the wise. It's tempting, in the initial crash of the predator onto your lure, to try and set the hook. 

Fighter

Don't, you'll probably lose the fish. Instead, let the beast take the lure, dive down and the fight's yours.

Ferox

And so it was, I lost a couple and caught a couple. Great sport and I left that compound uplifted in mind, body and spirit. Next time we'll address the hog issue.

The moral of this exciting story? If you miss the hog, get on the fish.

Tight lines,

LSP

Texas Crazy Rain

One of the things the team looks forward to after Sunday Mass is fishing, and not just any old fishing. No, we like to go to a secret location somewhere in Texas and catch enormous, absurdly large, leviathan size Bass on light rods. Just a whole lot of fun.

That plan didn't work out because of the threat of rain and because one of the team decided to go fishing in Venice instead, which is ironic, given that the place is flooded. So I went down another route, and drove to Lake Aquilla.

Not a bad option. As the storm was coming in, thunderclouds looming, boats were pulling into the ramp and the scene was soon deserted. Just me, the still-before-the-storm water, distant lighting flickering across the sky and the pleasure of trying to lure a Bass onto an enticing topwater spook.

Thrash! One of the fierce predators was lurking right near the bank and attacked the lure at the end of my retrieve. A good fight with a decent Widemouth, who lived to fight again another day. There were a few more close calls, with a small school of fish surging up and out of the water around the spook, but no strike. Still, even that was action, and action against the dramatic backdrop of the lake.

It's a new lake, like most in Texas, and before its creeks were dammed, an archeological survey was done on the soon to be flooded area and what became the lake shore. There were any number of Indian campsites and small settlements, some of them dating from the not so distant past. They'd be hard to recognize if you're not an expert; mostly charred stones from campfires and the occasional worked piece of stone. Some of the sites remain, if you have eyes to see.

I imagined those Indians as I fished, under the big, threatening sky. There they had been, hunting and fishing on Aquilla and Hackleberry creeks, in the vastness of the land. Well, the land's still vast and the sky's still the same, and before long it began to crash down with a vengeance.

Time to get back to the Compound, a glass of wine and the latest awful news from the Jihad. But before that, the sky turned ominously green and it started to rain in earnest, Texas-style. No fooling, and a good thing I had a truck because the streets were flooding as I drove into town.

If the rain continues, it will all be underwater. Is there a moral in this story?

If you care to draw it.

Your Buddy,

LSP

Super Spook

A lot of people are saying that the Team's gone off-mission. They think that the primary objective of fighting the War on Weather, building an ARK (Advanced Rescue Kraft) and fishing has been forgotten. Forgotten and replaced by theological reflection. I understand, it's a concern, but you can do both. 

Look What The Weather's Done

To prove that, I went Lake Whitney and deployed a Super Spook. No, not a well known member of the Intelligence Community, but a topwater lure. To be honest, I didn't think I'd catch anything, as the lake was choppy and well above its normal water level, all thanks to our enemy, the Weather.

Spook Caught a Fish

Still, I figured the Spook might be large and noisy enough to attract any Bass that were lurking under the waves. So I cast off, and bang, a Hybrid hit the lure like it was going out of style, then another slammed into it. Well done, Spook, you work. 

Those in Peril on The Sea

But so too does our enemy and its not been idle, sending torrential rain down onto the Lone Star State in an apocalyptic display of power. You could see that today on lake Whitney, which resembled a turbulent inland sea.

A Typical Texas Streetscape

Smart Texans are moving to high ground, building ARKs and improving their fishing skills.

Fish on,

LSP

The Awesome Power of Topwater Fishing

I know what you're thinking, all 5 of you that read this shallow excuse for a mind blog. You're thinking for someone who's always banging on about the awesomness of topwater lures, you sure don't seem to use them much. In fact, you spent the best part of Trinity Sunday afternoon fishing with a spoon, so-called LSP, if that's your real name, which we doubt.

OK, I stand rebuked, but it's a mark of character to be able to take constructive criticism and improve performance. And with that in mind, I set off for an evening of Tiny Torpedo topwater engagement with the aquatic opposition at Lake Whitney.

Lake Whitney at Dusk, Choppy

I won't bore you by saying how still, tranquil and glassy smooth the lake was, and I won't take up your time with the conversation I had with a fellow Angler, a youngish black fellow who proudly announced that he was "a Harris" and that he'd bought his rod at a pawnshop. I liked him; good for you, taking pride in the family name. Anyway, he left for Lake Aquilla and I got on with business.

In a short while Perch were swirling around the Torpedo. That got my hopes and adrenalin up, hey the Torpedo works. But no bites. Bass, on the other hand, were breaking the water off to my right towards the dam. Go where the fish are, says Fishing Wisdom, and that's what I did.

Catch That Bass! On a Torpedo

The Torpedo whipped those Bass into a frenzy and before long one was on the line, leaping and fighting. I brought him in, a decent fish, and for about 20 minutes it was fish on and big action. Exciting, one of the best things out there, as the ferocious predators explode around your lure.

Then it was dark and time to go, the awesomness of topwater fishing vindicated.

Fish On,

LSP

Topwater

Heddon Tiny Torpedo

Fishing with topwater lures can offer explosive action and big fun, no doubt about it. Bass will attack that twitching bit of plastic, hitting the lure like steam train before pulling it down into the depths, and the fight's on. 

The emphasis here is on can; a lot of the time, if you're me, poppers, torpedoes, spooks and the like produce no action at all. Still, the other day at Lake Whitney I had good success with a Torpedo and decided to read up on the subject. I found this article helpful, here's an excerpt:

Wham! When the strike came, I stifled my jerk reflex and waited for the fish to pull the bait down. Then, when I felt tension, I set back, and in short order a surprised three-pounder was flopping in my net.

Heddon Spook

...Most every brushpile harbored bass, and my Tiny Torpedo and that stay-put, irritating retrieve were the keys to catching them. Those fish never hit when the lure first gurgled into range. Instead, it was the twitching that changed their mood from neutral to aggressive. By tantalizing them long enough, the lure triggered their instinct to kill the "helpless prey" even though they weren't hungry.

So this is the object with topwater lures, to present bass with a vulnerable, unaware "creature" that is an easy target, then allowing nature to take its course.

You can read the rest of it here and learn something about the why, where, when and how of topwater lures. For me the why's simple, sheer excitement at the ferocious, leaping, impact of the Bass. 

Lake Aquilla, The Challenge Is On!

Nothing like it and while I'm no expert, the success I have had makes me want more. A lot more.

Fish On,

LSP

Texas Floods, So You Fish

Texas is mostly underwater, which forces us to fish. I tried out the old chicken liver and night crawlers method today, all in the hope of getting a monster catfish.

That meant clambering over the bluffs looking down on lake Whitney, and dropping a Carolina rigged treble hook baited with liver onto a recently submerged limestone ledge. I'd seen two big Channel Cats grazing there, so my hopes were up.

OK, Not a Monster, But Still, A Fish.

I left the rod in its holder and waited for the liver to do its trick while I fished the topwater with lures. Sure enough, after about 10 minutes, down went the float, out played the line, and the rod bent with a vengeance. Big excitement, no doubt about it, and I dropped the one rod and scrambled for the other. Reel that fish in! And I did, or at least started to, then... nothing. Whatever it was dropped the bait. 

Fierce Little Thing

My guess is that a Gar hit the liver and ran with it but let go after discovering something was up, they do that. Nothing was biting after that, so I moved on to less adventurous water and was rewarded by a Catfish and a Sunfish.

Gratuitous Texan Sunset Over Lake Whitney

They hit worms on treble hooks in shallow water with the kind of zeal you'd expect from Bernie Sanders promoting the Communist Manifesto. Aggressive beasts, fish. And that, readers, is that, except that it isn't, because the challenge is still on for a big Cat.

Fish on,

LSP