Just Go To The Lake

 

Movement, says the Philosopher, is a sign of life and that in mind I loaded a couple of rods in the rig and moved off to the lake. Yes, I was alive, but what about the fish? Good question. Soldier's Bluff, once a reef in a vast inland sea, shone under a fierce Texan sun, teenagers did backflips into hot water, all was alive, but the fish weren't moving.

Don't get me wrong, I tried, with worms and shad but no, our piscine enemy were lying low, immobile, playing dead. So much for this game of soldiers, I thought grimly to myself, and moved to another location, across the dam.

Boom, right out of the gate a ferocious Drum pulled rod #2 along the fishing pier. Off I ran, alive, picked up the rod and reeled him in. Good fight, well done fish. He went back, living, to fight again another day. Next up, Gar.

The thing about Gar, if you're me, is they're easy to get on but hard to hook. You see, they'll play with your bait and drop it if you attempt a premature hookset, which tends not to work because of the bony toughness of their long prehistoric beaks. So what to do?

Try a small #6 hook, baited with frozen shad, on a 12" leader weighted with split shot beneath a small float. If you're smart, unlike me, make that leader steel. Launch the shad near the Gar, he'll see it, move in and it.

Watch the Pleistocene creature gobble that bait fish down; seriously, let the fish do its thing, give it line, allow it to pretty much eat the shad and then run with it. It'll run, allow some 8 seconds into this then set that hook.

Fish On, Just Doesn't Know It

Wow. Stand up, rod double, line out, leaping, thrashing, diving, running fish action. Just a lot of fun. But word to the wise. I say again, if you're fishing from some kind of pier use a steel leader, otherwise the fish will bite through your line as you haul him up, which is what happened to me today. Still, good fight, great result, thank you fish.

Back at the Compound we're reflecting on this real-life parable. It's the Feast of SS. Peter & Paul, who followed Christ and became fishers of men.

Tight lines,

LSP

Mad Dogs And Englishmen

 

Mad dogs and Englishmen, what do they do? They go out in the noonday sun, or so it's claimed. To test this theory I loaded up the rig with a couple of rods and headed for the lake in the pyramid peak intensity of the Texan sun.

Were there any mad dogs at Soldiers Bluff? Yes there were, doing mad dog stuff on the opposite bank. Was there anyone else? No, there was not, only me, and it was starting to look like the old adage was true. Even the fish, our piscine adversary were lying low.

To test the theory further, I headed over to the other side of the dam, you know, follow the science. And guess what? It was deserted, no one was there, not even a mad dog, they were on the other side of the dam, crazily frolicking in the hot water.

No, there was just one Englishman with a US passport, some frozen shad, a few rods and the ovenlike heat of Texas in the midst of a regular day in June. Hot, so hot your eyelids are sweating while the fish, heatshocked, hang deep in cooler water.

It's a challenge and a good one. You've proved the old noonday axiom, LSP, I thought to myself, grimly tying on a #6 hook, will you get a fish? Serious question, and a seriously bad time to try your luck against our finned friends. You see, they just don't want to know, too busy sensibly sleeping out the heat.

Undeterred, I cast off with shad and worm. But where? Into the shade of the spillway's fishing pier, get the science? And lo and behold, reeled in Black Drum and Perch variants. What does this mean.

That no, fish as well as mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun, at least in Texas. Science has shown us this. Also, it may be hot as a preheating oven but get out there in the country and fish. Good for mind, body and soul.

Tight Lines,

LSP

Get Out And Fish

 

It's not much fun getting up in the dark at a ridiculously early hour but you know it's worth it as you power across the lake in Pat's skiff, followed by a fiery Texan sunrise.

We were looking for striper and sure enough, Pat knows where to find them. He's just a great guide, friendly, helpful and most importantly he gets you on the fish, usually with live shad. But today it was all about 6" Cotton Cordell pencil poppers and big silver spoons.

Old LSP with a fish

First off, topwater poppers and brisk action as the ferocious predators exploded onto our lures like Red Guards on a gang of recidivist Mensheviks. Or something like that. But look, and I know you're all experts, in the adrenaline rush excitement of the strike, do not try a premature hookset. 

Don't do it, no, let the fish take the lure down into the depths and if he doesn't, leave it be, chances are the enraged bass will come back again and again in its misguided fury. And you'll get your fish.

A few big fellas

Next up, silver spoons, which are a workout. Drop the spoon into the water, let it hit bottom, then "whippit up, and let it flutter down. They'll tear into that thing." And so they did, but not so much for me. Still, I wasn't complaining, the topwater had been outstanding.

Then back to the boat ramp, where Pat cleaned the fish in a fraction of the time I could've done and that was that, back to the Compound where fish awaits. My plan is this. Salt and pepper a fillet or two, pan fry in olive oil on medium high heat, serve with some kind of vegetable or two and fall on that scoff like a warrior.

What a good morning! Thanks, S.O. for the fun, and Pat for being a great guide.

Fish On,

LSP

FISH

 

Yes, the Rising Sun didn't look too bright but that's because it was rising over the waters of the lake as we went in search of Stripers.

Yes, a BOAT

Stripers are predatory, voracious beasts and they love live shad. And that's what we were armed with as we headed into the waters of the dammed Brazos, Lake Whitney.

Fish

OK, that's all very poetic in a very minor key kind of way, (really? Ed.) but how do you catch the fierce Stripers, what's the method? First off, have a Guide who knows what he's doing.

Looks boring, isn't

We chose Pat because he's good at every level. Friendly and helpful as opposed to sneering because you're not a Guide and, most importantly, gets you on the fish.

Good Guide

Which is what happened, we got on the fish and then some, limiting out in about 45 minutes. Big Striper action, rod goes double once, twice, hookset! Then reel that monster in. Big fun.

Look at that Leviathan on the left!

That done, we headed back to the ramp, mission accomplished. And now there's fish in the freezer for the next few weeks or so.  But seriously, if you want a good Striper Guide on Lake Whitney, go for Pat. He'll get you on the fish.

Fish on,

LSP

Fishing Isn't God But I Still Love It

"Man," reminds Archbishop Fulton Sheen, "is engaged in a threefold quest for life, truth and love." Would I find that after Evening Prayer, fishing? Only imperfectly. Fishing, you see, isn't God.

Still, I won't deny that the sport's up there, especially when the watery beasts are switched on, for real and love what you're throwing in the water, which is pretty much the way it was yesterday evening.

The pier was empty, no pressure, and the spillway pool beckoned with submarine life. You could see it gliding about the water in search of prey. Big Gar, Catfish, a few Bass and a lot of Drum, some large; time to cast off.

Out went line #1 into the middle of the pool and stayed there, a stationary rod, then out went line #2 for casting. And sure enough, the fish wern't only live but loving the bait, with both rods popping. And that meant a bit of running around. 

There you are, reeling in a fish when the other rod starts jumping, bends double and off you go. Quick, sort that fish out and get on the other rod!

Big fun, I tell you, and while it's not God it does  make for a better evening than staring in slack-jawed consternation at some computer screen.

So get out and fish. Shoot and ride too, but those would be different stories.

God bless,

LSP