Rewilding!

 

Rocky Paths

Shocked by accusations of domestication, I loaded a couple of rods in the truck and headed out for action. First stop, Soldiers' Bluff on Lake Whitney. Sure enough, the sun shone brightly, the waters glistened and the fish didn't bite. At least not much, some junior perch ate a couple of worms and that was it. No deal.

How jolly pleasant, and it is

Next stop, a tranquil, little-used marina near Mission #2. Who knows, maybe the place is a front for a crew of international money launderers, perhaps it is, I don't know. But I do know this, there were fish, you could see them gliding about in the shallows, which is ideal for me because I don't have a boat.

Just some geese

So, after taking a photo of some geese and doing a recce around the banks and piers, I set up on a gangway overlooking a small shallow bay. Boom, first cast, something took the hook and off it ran, great result. Turned out to be a freshwater Drum and I kept that fish.

Oh look, shadow LSP returns

Then, as everything started to melt in triple digit climate change, I headed for home, fish on ice. A few moments later and there it was, on a cutting board and ready to fillet. It's not hard if your knife is sharp, and there's various ways to do it, see the internet. I prefer boneless and take the meat off the ribcage, then cut it away from the scaly skin. Others like to scale the fish and keep the skin, others again like to cut through the ribcage and keep the meat therein. Whatever, your call.

Thou Leviathan

Method aside, that 13" provided two decent fillets which were pan fried in butter, olive oil and lemon. Delicious. Word to the wise -- freshwater Drum's typically robust and firm, do not overcook it. Tomorrow's plan is simple. Viz. Get up by first light and check out some topwater, which is, for me, the most awesome fishing.

I file this exciting story under "Rewilding," which isn't always a corrupt, money-making, green virtue-signaling exercise in shabby cost cutting masquerading as saving the planet. No, in this case it's getting back on the fish.

Tight Lines,

LSP

Look At That Striper!

 

Don't get me wrong, catching perch is fun but catching striper is awesome. There we were after Mass, pitting wits and worms against junior bluegill when the water erupted about 30 yards off the bank. I figured it was sand bass blitzing on minnows and tied on a topwater lure.

Out it went, wait, then a zig-zag retrieve back to shore. About two thirds of the way back the water surged under the lure and a fish hit it like a steam train, taking the silvery, rattling, plastic prey down into the depths. Behold rod double action as the fish dived and tried to run, this was surely more than a regular sandy or hybrid. And sure enough it was, out came a striper.

I love topwater fishing. There's something about the explosive impact of the fish striking the lure, amped up, full of ferocious, predatory drive; it's going to get the prey before its competition. Then the fight's on. And with that, have a blessed Feast of the Transfiguration.

Tight lines,

LSP

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

Cast Into The Blitz!

Guderian

Fishing can be fun and sedate, it can also be fast and furious. It was furious this evening. There we were, standing on the shore of Lake Whitney as the fierce white light of the Texan sun was starting to set, casting out in hope of fish.

No joy. The fish were there, jumping, but about 100 yards away out of range. Would they come in to the shore? We bet the monkey on just that and switched out to topwater lures, all in the hope that what looked like a school of Sand Bass would close in. Sure enough, they did.

Bang! Before you could say Heinz Guderian, there they were, leaping, thrashing and blitzing through swarms of Shad. You know the wisdom, where leap the Shad, so bite the Bass, and that's the way it was. It sounded like fire crackling through dry tinder. 

We couldn't cast fast enough. "Cast to the blitz, lads!" and "Fish on!" echoed around the dam like Charles Martel's victorious war cry against the Moslem horde. Crazy, intense, topwater action, and all the better for the youngest member of the team getting his first fish of the year. Well done! More to follow.

A Fish

Then it was dark and time to head back to the Compound, adrenaline up and fishing tales abounding. Big, victorious excitement. 

And that's just the way it was.

Tight lines,

LSP

Just Go Fishing

Today's the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul and I thought I'd celebrate with a bit of bank fishing  at Cedar Creek Park on Lake Whitney. There's plenty of access to the water from the bank and I enjoyed casting into the creek mouth where it meets the lake. 

Lake Whitney from Cedar Creek Park

Had a few bites but no catch; it was tantalizing to see channel cats breaking the water in mid-stream and ignore my lures. Still, always good to get on the water and cast about. I find it clears the mind and there's plenty of sport when the fish are biting, great fun. Next time I go there I'll try my luck further down the Creek.

Here's the Collect for the day:

Almighty God, whose blessed apostles Peter and Paul

glorified you by their martyrdom: Grant that thy Church,

instructed by their teaching and example, and knit together

in unity by thy Spirit, may ever stand firm upon the one

foundation, which is Jesus Christ our Lord; who liveth and

reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God,

now and for ever. Amen.

Fish on,

LSP