Monsters Of The Deep?

So you're standing on the rip-rap like a warrior on the edge of time, beholding the mighty Brazos as it flows beneath you to Houston and its enormous Dalek. You have a choice, stare in amazement at the fabled waterway and reflect on its storied history or get a rod from the truck and go after some action.

There's no "rule," either way is OK, but I chose the latter path and went to the pier armed with a light Shakespeare Ugly Stick and a couple of boxes of worms. I felt the fish would love these worms and they did, snapping, tugging and bumping with pretty much every cast.

All well and good, but I wasn't closing the deal. Fishing wizardry told me juvenile perch and bass were plundering the line and a smaller hook was in order. Such is piscine soothsaying, don't discount it.

Sure enough, before too long I was reeling in the young 'uns, and ferocious predators they were too, going at the juicy worms like Democrats boarding a Greyhound for Chicago. But you're saying, in that mocking tone of voice, "Aren't they a bit small?"

Not so fast, readers of this popular international mind blog, they may have been small but a fish is a fish and even a small fish is value on a light rod. So I left the dam pleased, mission accomplished. 

And I tell you, it's good for the soul to get out in the clean air and big sky of an overcast Texan morning and fish, no matter what you catch.

Tight lines,

LSP

Go On, Beat The Drum

I know, I know, there's not been many sporting posts on the this fascinating mind blog lately and that's because I've been babysitting. So here's a fishing infovideo to set the record straight.

When my son, the Cadet (potential) saw it,  he said, "You look younger, Guv'nor." Such, readers, is the magic of fishing.

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