Showing posts with label Lake Whitney. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lake Whitney. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 29, 2020



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.


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,


Thursday, September 10, 2020

Fish? No. Boat? Yes

Thanks to some good friends I got on a boat today. It was awesome, we went out on the lake in search of fish, even though it was freezing.

Lures, slabs, spoons, you name it, all went in. No shortage of effort on our part. But were the fish biting? Good question.

No, they were not. Should've brought a box of worms. Still, big fun to zoom about on the lake which used to be the Brazos before it was dammed. And there's no harm whatsoever in getting outside instead of staring in weird consternation at the still unrolling coup attempt against our President.

So much for democratic process. But of course the Left has never been about this and it isn't now, they want power, total power by any means necessary. This, they think, will bring about a utopia in which the reign of The Man is at last brought to an end.

To be replaced by what, exactly? Images of Millionaire Socialist Nancy Pelosi (MSNP) getting a blow dry while ordering hair salons shut spring to mind. Hey, all pigs are created equal but some more Viking fridge equal than others.



Thursday, August 27, 2020

Texas is Very Awesome

How can Texas be awesome when the very air itself threatens to ignite, like an air bomb? Surely this sounds more like the anteroom of Hell than anywhere good. 

Not so fast, team. Yes, it may be hot but there are benefits, such as frontier style bluffs and Patriot Barges. No one's defunding the police here because they're not stupid.

And fish. Lots of fish, even in the heat of a late August afternoon. I know this because, after visiting with the flock, I headed over to the marina for some action, and got it. 

A lot of perch, mostly small but pretty much every cast a fish, always good, and few large, ferocious, piranha style keepers, which I didn't keep. Again, wasn't in the mood to clean, beer batter and fry 'em up. Foolish, I know, tomorrow being Friday, but whatever. Next time.

Then, at the very end, something ferocious took the line. Tug! Hookset! drag out, well at least for a bit, and up came a random predator bass. Great result. Bass on, what a lot of fun. And while some say fishing's a kind of therapy for trauma, conscious or otherwise, it's also good in itself. Fast, sometimes furious aquatic action. I find this exciting, like hunting but on the water.

Mission accomplished, I headed back to the safety of the Compound and it began to rain. Yes, rain. Beautiful, and yet another reason to thank God for his glory and Texas for awesomeness.

Your Friend,


Saturday, August 22, 2020

Lake Whitney Goes MAGA - Boat Parade

I've always liked Lake Whitney, Texas, and now I like it even more after an awesome MAGA boat rally. OK, it wasn't Florida but it wasn't shabby either, with some three or four hundred patriot boats flying the flag.

Marinas and boat ramps served as staging areas and then the armada set off in great good humor, like a Trump rally but on the water. Is Biden holding rallies? Sure, but they're all about destruction, burning down "the system."

Why? Because they're filled with hatred, not least for the country they live in. This was different, everyone had a good time out on the lake in their boats, loving their country. The Left calls this Fascism and hates it, but since when was loving your country, patriotism, synonymous with Mosely and Mussolini? As in, "You love your country? Wow, literally Hitler."

No, idiots, exactly the reverse. This little regatta was all about saying no to our would-be globalist overlords and yes to our autonomy and freedom as a people. To put it another way, we love our country so stop burning it down, shipping our jobs overseas and erasing our borders so that you, the transnational elite, can make even more cash than you already do.

Or something like that. Were the boats armed? Good question, it'd be a terrible thing if someone lost all their weaponry on the waters of lake. Were there any protesters throwing Greek Fire upon the surgingly patriotic seas of Lake Whitney? No. Did everyone have a good time? Yes indeed, what a lot of fun.

So there you have it. There's an energy to the MAGA thing, evident today, which the Left lacks. And no wonder, they destroy, we build.

We say make America great again, they say it's been evil since conception. They ship our industry overseas, we bring it back home. They destroy our nation by removing its borders, we establish sovereignty by protecting them. They erase our personhood by calling it a construct, we affirm it as God-given. We're pro-life, they enthusiastically kill it in the womb and call it freedom. 

Yes indeed, the freedom of the Pit, which is no kind of freedom at all, and that's precisely what's at stake. 

Well done, Lake Whitney, a good day was had by all.



Thursday, July 2, 2020

Fish On, Commies

Do you feel our nation's at a turning point, a crisis, an existential decision which freedom-loving patriots have to make against God-hating, freedom-despising Marxists? Feels that way, at least to me, so to get some air I went fishing.

Nothing fancy, just the marina on Lake Whitney, and lo and behold, caught a good Bass, a junior Cat, and a handful of Perch. Big fun and I lost count. But all of this action was on a casting rod armed with worms, it produced, obviously.

The second rod was equipped with a Perch head, cast into the depths and left there. I was hoping it'd attract the BIG FISH. You know, leviathan cats, monster bass and on. 

Sure enough, the Perch head magic started to work and the rod twitched, bobbed, went double and on more than a few times. But I didn't close the deal.

In fact, the fish closed the deal, stealing one perch head and one perch tail, leaving the hook to fend for itself. Huh. Next time I'll cut the bait up into smaller chunks, easier for the predatory, cannibalistic fish to get their mouth around.

Is there a moral in this? Quite possibly. Would it be better in a boat? That's another question again.

Your Old Pal,


Monday, April 20, 2020

Fishing The Pandemic

So what's it like to fish in the scyfy dystopia that is our new normal? Good question, and rather than rely on some kind of "news" channel I went to the lake to find out for myself.

First up, Soldiers Bluff wasn't an option, "Park Closed," said the sign. Undaunted, I made my way to the other side of the dam. Another fail, you could get there but the pier was shut, blocked off by police tape. 

You Can't Fish Here. Thanks, China.

Thanks a lot, China, I was looking forward to fishing the pool, but no. I stared out at the mighty Brazos, streaming its way towards Waco, Houston and the sea under a big Texan sky. Would the ChiCom Plague, this Pandemic, defeat the expedition? 

Wytche Way?

No, it would not, so I drove to the marina, which wasn't blocked off by police tape and threatening signs. Boating's still allowed you see, at least here, and I set up on the pier and fished away. It was slow going and then, just as I was getting ready to pack it in for a bad game of soldiers something took the hook.

Get A Haircut Hippy. Oh, You Can't. Good Work, China

Bam! Rod double, line out action as a monster, maybe a shark, took the bait and ran with it, and run it did, right around the cleaning station. Diving, pulling, thrashing action and I was hoping for a big cat but up came a Leviathan Carp Buffalo. 

China Eats Carp  Buffalo. I Don't. Back You Go

A passing fish head helped me pull the beast out. "Well lookit that," exclaimed my gap-toothed new pal as we looked in wonder at the Carp Buffalo, "They'd be all over that in Russia. On a light little rod too. I reckon I'll just fish this here pier for a few minutes."

The Compound

The prehistorically scaled Carp Buffalo went back to fight again another day and I went back to the Compound in the sun, mission accomplished. So what's it like to fish the Pandemic? Not bad at all.

Tight Lines,


Monday, March 9, 2020


Guess what, there's precisely zero reports of Covid-19 on Lake Whitney, Bosque County, Texas. No, not one. That in mind, I put some rods in the back of the rig and headed for water.

The dam spillway was churning, so I headed to the marina cleaning station. Perhaps there'd be piscine action off the still waters of the pier. And sure enough there was. A tug, hookset, and there it was, fish on, and a good one too.

I figured it was a catfish and sure enough it was. A decent fighter and all the more so for a light rod; had to tighten up the drag. Still, it was slow going until an off-chance cast from the side of the pier caught a rumble on the retrieve. 

Snap that rod to! Then BOOM, what a fight. Line out, rod double, calisthenic action. What was this thing, some kind of shark? No, just a monstrous carp. Seriously, a good five minutes fight to bring her in. Thought the line'd snap, but it didn't, fortunately.

Then a boat turned up full of kids, parents and a guide. Great result, they'd been out on the lake to catch striper and had a good cooler full. The little guys were especially proud and excited, which I loved. Kids with a fish, one of the best things. 

The guide, Clay, who's a jovial fellow, agreed, "Man, I just love it when kids get fish. They get to go free." Clay's a good man with a good setup, and when I told him I used Pat as a guide he said, " A fine guide and a fine man." I liked that, all true and then some.

Unlike, say, politicians, with the exception of Eva Peron and 45, who are loved by the people because they have the peoples' interests  at heart. 

As opposed to the ruling oligarchy's transnational, globalist elite, corrupt, asset-stripping, lying, pugnacious, venal, satanic get rich scheme masquerading as politics with you as the beneficiary.

Wake up and drive a stake through the heart of that beast.

Fish on,


Friday, January 10, 2020

Crazy Storm

Texas is big and so is its weather. When it's hot it's really hot, like an oven. When it storms it really storms and that's what happened tonight. We were at the Four Seasons, no, not that one, this is a different place, the one next to Internet, Sweepstakes, Fun Time, then crash, down came the rain. 

You could hear it pounding on the roof above the stained acoustic tile drop ceiling while sheet lightning lit up the sky beyond the Seasons' barred windows. There it was, our Old Enemy the Weather venting its fury like a thwarted Presidential Candidate falling on Mook with outstretched talons. 

The ride home down a black ribbon of half-submerged asphalt was dramatic enough but uneventful, I took it slow and so did everyone else. Smart, who wants to hydroplane in a near zero viz stormfront?

Still, it was good to get back to the Compound. I set up on the porch as lightning arced across the sky, rain sheeted down and tornado warnings flashed on the phone screen. Thunder's rocking the house now, Elite Hotel's playing on the jukebox.

Will anything be left of this town tomorrow, will it be washed away like so many futile Bloomberg millions in Virginia? Only time, and a new dawn, will tell. 

For now, we stand to, cleaning weapons, sharpening kukris, loading magazines and throwing last year's broken furniture on the fire.



Monday, November 18, 2019

Tight Lines

Inspired by tales of trout in the mountain streams of the White Wolf Mine, I drove to the lake in search of fish. Would there be any and if there were, would they bite? Two weighty mysteries to conjure with on the way to a date with piscine destiny.

And at first it seemed as though the answer was negative on both counts. No fish. No bites. Yes, it was all very beautiful, blue sky, autumnal Texan sun reflecting off the water, and all of that, so good for the soul, but where were the fish?

Then, just as I was about to head somewhere else there was a vicious tug on the line, hookset, and whatever was on took off like Trump Train 2020. Rod double, line out, reeling action, especially when the cunning leviathan made a mad bid to dive under the pier. It failed, but only just, and there he was, at last, a mighty catfish.

I hauled the monster up on the dock for a photo op before putting him back in to fight again another day. What a good fish. And there you have it, a short story of aquatic adventure in the Texan countryside and yet another testimony to the power of worms, small hooks and a light rod. Amazed the thing didn't break, to be honest.

Great fun, and a welcome break from staring in slack-jawed consternation at the corruption and malfeasance of our nation's political elite and their lying shills in the media. But that's a different sermon.

Fish on,


Monday, May 13, 2019

Grilling & Fishing

Mothers Day was all about church, grilling, and mothers. Well done, women, without you we wouldn't be here. Speaking of women, Alyssa Milano's gone on a sex-strike because Georgia doesn't want mothers to kill their babies if they have a heartbeat.

Devil Witch

The cute teen witch, celebrity millionaire socialist isn't going to have any more children, apparently, if she's not allowed to kill them in the Peach State. Strange, satanic, and demented? Yes, but nonetheless true.

Soldiers Bluff

Hollywood logic aside, today dawned bright and clear and seemed right to go fishing, which is what we did. Soldiers Bluff was pretty much flooded thanks to climate change, and hungry fish were cruising through the shallows foraging for food. 

Big excitement as a catfish struck and tore off with the hook; rod double, bring that fish in! But no, line and hook somehow separated. Perhaps the cat was a magician or I need to tie better knots or both, who knows. 

Flooded Thanks To Climate Change

Still, good action and the Cadet had a similar experience with a Leviathan Carp. Enormous great beast, leaping and thrashing on the end of the line only to escape.

Beat The Drum

We closed out on the other side of the dam, where water from lake Whitney was roaring into the Brazos and ultimately to Houston. I caught a drum and then it was time to head for home, all well with the world. Unless you're in Houston, which is flooded.

Tight lines,


Friday, February 22, 2019

Need A New Rig

Here's the thing, readers, all five of you, I think I need to get a new rig. Don't get me wrong, this one's been great. Thanks, Ford and Oncor for an awesome vehicle.  But it's coming to that put money into it end.

So, a new rig. I want something that's able to get in and out of the mud at the range and everywhere else besides, that likes dirt roads in the rain, has the wherewithal to deal with horses and all of that. 

I'm thinking a RAPTOR would do the trick. Or maybe a fleet 4x4? OK, a Raptor would be cool, no doubt about it, but a regular work truck 4x4 would get the job done and still be cool, with far less things to go wrong. Like electric windows?

Also, a fleet 4x4 would cost appx $10/20k less, leaving plenty of room to buy a BOAT.

What's it to be, a RAPTOR or a FLEET 4x4, BOAT included?

Help, please, and don't fear the reaper,


Monday, October 1, 2018

Gone Fishing

"I know," I thought cleverly to myself, "I'll go fishing." And that was the plan for Monday morning, but it nearly got derailed because of a church PO Box and taking care of business.

Load up your rig with beer and tacos and head for glory.

Still, got to the lake and cast off with worms and a couple of lures, but the fishing was slow. Sure, a couple of bites here and there but nothing much. I blame that on the malfeasant, demonic static unleashed by Fienstein and her cohort of satanists on the world. It confuses the fish.

Look what the FBI caught!

The hideous Golem representative from California and her puppet aside, I managed to catch a decent Bluegill and had a couple of strikes with topwater. Some kind of Rapala lure, I think.

Then it was time to head home, happily tired out by clambering around the rocks of Soldier's Bluff in search of fish. Next step?


GUNS, and horses. This is important.

Your Pal,