"Dad, can we go fishing?" I thought for a moment, for maybe a second, "Yes, we can." Some coffee, two bacon and egg sandwiches and a relined rod later we were on our way to the lake, Lake Whitney. And after a brief pit stop at a lakeside Pick 'n Steal for fried cherry pie and a fishing license for the kid, we were at Soldiers Bluff, casting off.
Would the fish be on? Sure enough they were, right from the get go, with voracious predator perch going at the worms we were throwing into the murky, minnowed water. Tug, snap, light rod down and boom, out comes a fish. The soldier caught first, nice, and I came in not far behind.
And so passed a pleasant hour or so in the Texan sun on the side of the lake, what a lot of fun, especially given a late bite in the last half hour; fish after fish till you started to lose count. Some of them were big too, but all Bluegill. Come on, Bass, get your act together.
As we clambered up the rocks to get to the rig and home, I reminded the world that this was once the bed of a primeval, Mesozoic sea and there were fossils to be found. Sure enough, there was a junior ammonite and some petrified shells, easy to dig out of the clayish strata.
Then, "Look at this!" Lo and behold, there was a section of fossilized shell, sticking out of the rock. Pretty cool, so we went back to the truck to get some tools to excavate it.
Some well placed taps with the hammer end of an old axe on a sturdy screwdriver and there it was, freed from the rock. "What if there's more?" We tapped away, removing the stone which had once been mud, and there it was, the fossilized spiral of an ancient crustacean.
Great excitement, and the fossil's back at the Compound. The Bluegill, on the other hand, were put back to fight again another day, and maybe to keep. Tasty.
Fish On,
LSP.
