Showing posts with label Bluegill. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bluegill. Show all posts

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Sorry Fish, You Lose This Round



Smarting from our signature defeat against the fish the other week on the dam spillway, the team decided to have another go. To catch the fish off-guard we went to a different location, Soldier's Bluff. 

There's been times when fishing the Bluff has been simply outstanding, fast action, good fish and pretty much a catch a cast and sometimes more. No kidding, when the Bass are blitzing it's topwater frenzy and devil take the hindmost.




With that in mind we cast off into the depths and at first things didn't look good. A boat kept roaring by, surfer in tow, churning the water, frightening the fish and blasting some kind of pop music. Perhaps it was rap/r 'n b hybrid, I don't know, I'm no expert but I do know this, it was annoying and we weren't catching.




At last, the boat sped off into the vastness of Lake Whitney and we were in with a chance, perhaps. After throwing worms and their plastic imitations into the usual spots and getting nothing, we headed towards the dam.




Still nothing and then, as the sun was going down, a fierce tug at the line. Yes, fish, you're on the radar. After that it was pretty much a Bluegill every five minutes or so and many more escapees, who were happy to run off with our enticing worms and "Crappie Bites."




Regardless, it was fish on and if we'd been in the way of keeping them, dinner on too. As it was, these fierce little predators went back in the water. They lived to fight again another day.




Victory assured, we headed back in the setting sun. Burgers were on the menu and the Cadet wasted no time in dialing up Highland Regiments, piping us into the Compound.




He's inspired by the A&M Corps and ROTC. Shoot in the X Ring, kid.

Tight lines,

LSP


Thursday, May 18, 2017

Fish On, Hillary For Jail



Rather than talk about the urgent necessity of appointing a Special Counsel to bring Hillary to justice, I'll just post about fishing. That's one of the many benefits of LSPland, you can visit the flock and fish, all at the same time.




There were all kinds of panfish in the water at my friend's slip and for a while it was pretty much a fish with every cast. Some ferocious Bluegill fighters, too, and a couple of Bass for good measure. Huge fun and I should've brought a cooler.




I left as the sun was setting over the lake and the air smelled like Texas, sage, mesquite, cedar and cooling limestone. I love that.

Hillary For Jail,

LSP

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

More Fishing



Yesterday's fishing was slow. Like the corrupt, lying, elite, venal, condescending, pugnacious mainstream media attempting to find proof of Trump acting as a Russian spy, not a lot was happening. A lot of trying, a lot of fishing, but no catching to speak of. 




Similar, come to think of it, to the infamous Kremlins hacking our election. No end of frenzied searching, no end likewise of not finding the elusive beasts. But that was yesterday, today was different.




Today the fish were biting like a Trump Train on full power. Boom. First off, a Megabass hit my worm  in the pool of Lake Whitney dam spillway, then took off ferociously upstream. No use, fish, you're coming in, if only to live to fight again another day.




No sooner was the gigantosaurian Bass back in the water than a Striper came in, and on and on it went. In the end my arms grew tired from reeling in the monsters, Black Drum, Stripers, Catfish, Bass and a lone Bluegill.




It made for some some brisk and satisfying action and then it was over, fish back in the Brazos and me in a truck heading back to the compound, time well spent.

Tight lines,

LSP

Monday, May 15, 2017

Fish



GWB headed over from Dallas for an evening of dove poppers, steak and a morning of fishing at Soldiers' Bluff. And I tell you this, it's a relief to be able to eat juicy steaks again; I cooked them on the grill, three minutes a side. They were right on.


Ocean Conservancy


Fortified by last night's ribeye, we drove out to the lake with high hopes of catching a cooler-full of Bluegill. Maybe GWB's cowboy hat would help, acting as a kind of country lure. But no, despite the promise of an early Striper the fishing was slow at best. 


Beer Battered Fish Snacks

Still, a few aquatic predators made it back to the compound, and  a right tasty snack they were too.

Fish on,

LSP

Thursday, May 11, 2017

Fish On


Life at the Compound isn't just about riding and shooting, it's also about fishing and with that in mind we headed out to Lake Whitney with rods and a cooler, in search of aquatic sport. Come on, team, let's catch some fish, was my war cry, but would we?  

I wasn't sure and that was unsettling because it was important for Harrison, who had traveled all the way from the UK for a God, guns and country life in Texas experience, to catch his first fish. JS, who's a well known art philosopher,was content to watch. Exactly, watch, watch us catching fish. So the heat, as it were, was on. But I needn't have worried.



Within a few minutes of casting off, Harrison was getting bites and triumphantly reeled in his first Bluegill. Good work! That was followed up by some six more of the same, a decent Crappie and a baby Bass or two. In the meanwhile, I'd managed to catch a small if aggressive junior Bass. Slow going, LSP.



Then things took off a bit and I brought in a Bass and a Bluegill that were worth keeping. They went into the cooler and we headed back to base for a quick lesson in filleting. And I tell you this, the fish tasted better for being caught and cleaned yourself. Lake to table and thank you very much.

Excellent result, and well done H on your first fish. Mission accomplished.

Tight lines,

LSP

Friday, March 24, 2017

Republican Healthcare Shambles, Go Fishing



Well done, Republicans. One of the reasons people voted you into power was to repeal Obamacare and you've failed to do that. How many other election promises will you break? Some, all, most? Who knows, and rather than reflect on this unsettling question I went fishing.




It was tranquil as the sun set behind the limestone bluffs overlooking Lake Whitney and I cast off from the solitude of the bank, enjoying the peaceful sound of the line as it played out across the sun-reflecting water.  Very peaceful, unless you're a fierce voracious fish.




Within minutes, an underwater predator plowed into my worm, diving and pulling against the line, a Drum. Next up, a decent little Bass took the bait, thrashing and leaping, big fun. But imagine what those fish would be like if they were large; deadly.




Then the action slowed down, with more fish sneakily eating the bait off the hook than striking. Still, I reeled in a couple of Bluegill and so what if they're small, they put up a fight. And that was that, an uplifting couple of hours in the clean lakeside air of an early Texan spring evening.




What a good result unlike, say, the useless, dismal, failing performance of the Republican Party, who can't live up to one of their most basic election promises. Our corrupt, lying, hypocritical, elitist, smug, mendacious and venal mainstream media will doubtless run and run with this story. But hey, maybe it's all part of the art of the deal.

Fish on,

LSP

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Tranquil



They say that at the Mass, or the Eucharist, please don't say "Yewkrist," time and eternity intersect as the sacrificial act of Calvary breaks through into the present moment, uniting us with the redemptive love of Christ. His Sacrifice becomes our sacrifice, however imperfectly, and finding atonement in Him we glimpse, fleetingly for sure, the peace which passes all understanding.


Just Some Goon With his Hand up a Puppet

Of course that doesn't happen at a Clown Mass, I thought to myself bitterly, casting off in search of Behemoth Bluegill. And there's a whole lot of something that passes all understandng when the liturgical dancers kick off, and some priestess goons around pretending to be something she doesn't even believe in anyway.


Nice Little Fryer!

Then the reverie was broken by a fish plowing into my hook and the fun was on. A nearby kid asked his dad why I was catching fish, "Well, he's got worms!" It's true, I did, and after reeling in Leviathan, I gave them a couple and a hook. "Thank you, sir, you're a gentleman and a scholar," said the Father; he was keen for his boy to get a fish, and so was I. He did, too, with a little patience.

You know, I think there's something pretty good about a Father and his son, or sons, out on the water fishing. 

As the sun set, I headed for the Compound, tranquil. And that was that.

LSP


Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Get Out And Fish



The international readership of this popular mind blog aren't slow when it comes to editorial advice. "Hey, LSP," they say, "Less God and more fishin'!" It's a very good thing, then, that I was able to swing by the lake today on the way back from visiting the sick.

I set up on the bank opposite my usual spot because I was looking for adventure and sure enough, there were plenty of fish cruising the submerged limestone bank. Hopes up, it was time to cast off with the tried and true weightless worm rig (WWR), but the fish were slow to bite, perhaps because it was pushing 100* in the shade. Still, a few took the bait and before long I'd tallied up a decent little catch of Bluegill.




But what I really wanted was a school of leaping, blitzing Bass to come into the shore, and the chance to get on them with topwater lures. Good action when you can get it and the backup rod was ready for just that, rigged for the surface with a Heddon Tiny Torpedo. True to form, the fish were jumping about 100 feet off the bank, would they get any closer?


Looking Over Yonder at the Usual Spot

The question was called by a couple of young Lakesters, "Y'all caught 'nyfish?" and I  told them I had. "You bet, Bluegill, but look at that, jumping Bass. Set up for topwater." Right at that moment the line bent low and something fierce took the worm and started to run, I love that feeling, fish on! And it was, another Bluegill, but a good one. I reeled him in. "Nice Perch," said my new fishing friend and walked down the bank with his pal to try their luck.




That didn't happen for them and before long they were doing backflips off the bluff and "singing" country rap. I scorn country rap and moved away in search of a better spot. A few casts later, something hit my worm like a miniature freight train, and lo and behold, out came a baby Bass. A ferocious little thing, and that's put me in mind to go after his larger cousins.




With apologies to the "Less God Brigade," I thank Him for the opportunity to get out to the glassy waters of the lake and the chance to fish under the big Texan sky. There's peace in that and excitement, too, when the fish are on.

Tight lines,

LSP

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Threeper Bass Blitz



Don't get me wrong, Bluegill fishing is pretty fun, a lot of fun, even, and they're good for the fry up. But when you've caught a relaxing cooler full you start to wonder if there's more adventure to be had in Seaworld, well, Lakeworld. And there is, Bass Blitz!

There you are, reeling in the ferocious panfish from the limestone bank when off to your left, maybe 100 yards away, there's a sound like frying bacon. But it's not bacon, or the warming noise of a crackling fire, it's fish, leaping up out of the water in a blitzing feeding frenzy.


Look Out! Blitz Starting! Come on You Fish!

If only they were closer! you think as you hoist up another piranalike fighter and, just in case, you rig up a topwater lure on your backup rod. I chose a large Heddon Super Spook, why? Because I wanted the lure to be weighty enough for a long cast.


Ah Ha!

Sure enough, the Blitz came in, as the leaping Bass tore up the water within 30 or 40 yards. So I got on them with the Spook. Bang! and the lure went down. Big fun, I tell you. But here's the thing, the Spook was too big and I'd have caught more with a Tiny Torpedo, still, hindsight's 20/20.


See The Rain?

Then rain came in, the lake grew choppy and the Blitz subsided into the deep, leaving me with no option but to head to a desk, a computer and a printer. Please don't laugh, it's true.


Threeper

For some reason a Threeper Pie seems appropriate.

Blitz on!

LSP


Monday, September 12, 2016

Cast Away



Yesterday was blast, today was cast, and that's what the sporting life is all about, mixing it up, by land, sea and air. Well, lake, in this case.

After a slow start I drove out of the compound to catch fish with GWB. I wanted to show off the fun and success of the Weightless Worm Rig (WWR), so we headed to Lake Whitney by way of buying a couple of boxes of nightcrawlers. These were "imported from Canada," curiously, and I've been told that people in Alberta make a living from this.


Many Limits

Next stop, the lake itself and the limestone banks of Soldier's Bluff. At one point in time, soldiers must have looked down on the Brazos river from the rocky bluffs and before them, Indians. Not that long ago in the scheme of things, but today it was just the team, threading worms onto hooks and dropping the tasty morsels down into the depths.

Across the cove from us a solitary gentleman was sitting on a bucket with a line in the water. Was he a #BlackLivesMatter supporter? No, I doubt it, he was probably after catfish instead of a Soros grant. I watched a few rigs pull up behind him and out poured an army of young people, who clambered their way onto the opposing bluffs. They were going cliff jumping, big fun, but we were after fish, and they were biting.


Well, Well, Well

It started off in a competitive spirit, "Ha! Number 2, we're even," but that soon went by the by as fish after fish ran with the WWRs. I lost count, but GWB estimates a "good cooler full." We certainly caught that, though these Bluegills were put back to fight again another day. And not only Bluegill, I caught a decent little Crappie who was trying his luck in Sunfish territory.

Then the worms were gone and it was time to quit while the going was good. I'd say there's relaxing, innocent enjoyment in bank fishing, though it would've been nice to have some kind of boat to get out to where the Bass were were jumping, about 40 or 50 yards out.


Kindly Old LSP

Fishing wisdom: Go where the fish are and give them what they think they want; you'll catch an abundance. There's a moral in that somewhere, if you care to draw it.

Tight lines,

LSP

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Fry 'Em Up!



This site's come under a lot of criticism lately, and why's that? Because I foolishly used frozen, store-bought chips (fries) at the last fish fry. "What kind of LSP are you?!?" commented the shocked punditry, "We expect slices of real potato, fried in lard, and nothing less." OK, I get it, point well made, so to correct the deficiency we went out to the lake and caught some fish, eight fat Bluegill and a small Black Drum.


Clean The Fish


Next step, set up two cleaning stations, yes, two, and fillet those fish like champions. Then later that evening apply beer batter and deep fry until golden brown, but don't forget the chips. Slice up some potatoes and fry them too. Use your memories of fish and chip shops in the UK as a guide, and when the tasty strips of potato look and taste right to chippie standard, take them off the heat, drain, and if necessary keep them warm in the oven while the fish does its thing.


Chips

Serve it all up with tartar sauce (easy to make) and whatever else sounds good, you be the boss of that. After all, it's your choice, not the Government's, not the tasseled loafer Beltway elite's, not the NWO globalist banksters and their Illuminati shills in the media and Hollywood, no, it's up to you


A Typical NWO Puppet

Did I use lard? Well, no, vegetable oil was the medium. But look, Rome wasn't built in a day.


Dogs Love a Fish Fry

In other news, the ghost of Lawrence of Arabia has been spotted, or was the "apparition" Tony Blair?

Fish On,

LSP

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Cooking With LSP, Fish



I know, I know, it's Bushcraft Wednesday but plans have to evolve to meet a fluid tactical environment. Such as the opportunity to catch fish. We took that opportunity and went down to the lake.

Before too long there was a cooler full of Bluegill; take those fish home and fry 'em up! went the war cry, and that's exactly what happened.


Work Harder!

First things first, descale the fish. Use a regular stainless steel - no need to be fancy - kitchen knife with a serrated edge. Then fillet the fish, leaving the skin on. There's a helpful infovideo here, if you don't know how.




Then make some beer batter. It's not hard. 2/3rds cup of flour, 1 tablespoon of olive oil, 1 teaspoon of garlic powder and the same again of onion powder.Whisk it up, add around a bottle of beer and fold in a beaten egg white right before you're ready to fry. And maybe you do that with a loaded .45 close to hand. Or maybe you don't, there's no rule. 


Random Fish Photo

Sure, go right ahead and fry up some fish defenseless. That's your call; who knows, maybe your pal, Nanny State, will protect you, and you'll be safer because you're not armed. Your choice. I chose a Beretta PX4 Storm, you might opt for something different. It's up to you. Choose wisely.




Batter mixed, dredge the fillets in flour, put them in the batter and drop the beasts in a cast iron pot with 3/4" of hot vegetable oil. Fry for about 2 minutes a side, then drain on paper towels.




Frying over, admire your handywork, pound the mahogany and grin like a warrior. Fish on. And here's the thing, eating fresh-as-you-like fish gives you energy, health and the satisfaction of Lake to Table and thank you very much.

It's tasty, too. And that's cooking, with,

LSP