Get Back On The Gar!

Gar are living fossils, members of the Lepisosteiformes family of fish, which can be traced back through the fossil record to the Late Jurassic. They're also massively under fished and big fun to catch.

That's because these large predators typically put up a tremendous fight, running, thrashing, leaping and diving with your bait. Exciting, but there's a catch.

The Last Run

You see, the problem with these overlooked and abundant fish is that they're hard to catch. Sure, they'll take your bait, run with it and in a fit of enthusiasm you set the hook. Snap! but no, no snap, the contemptuous Gar drops it all and swims nonchalantly away. 

That's because your hook can't find purchase in the bony, Jurassic beak of the Gar, which cunningly plays with what's on offer before attempting to swallow the shad, worm, liver, minnow or whatever you're throwing in. This all translates into the fish being able to drop your bait during its first run.

Let's Zoom In

So don't try for a quick hookset, let the prehistoric beast make its run, then let it stop, meditate, play with the bait and run again. Be sure to let the drag play out to least resistance, you don't want to spook the fish, she'll drop everything and swim off. But keep with her; after a few minutes she'll start to swallow the bait and make an effort to head downstream.

Observe the fish through the technological marvel of your polarized glasses. Is the bait at the back of the Gar's beak, is it heading away from you, have you felt it trying to gulp the bait down, yes? Time to tighten the drag and set the hook. BANG, the fight's on.

Smallest of Three

And I tell you, it's well worth the patient opening act. Imagine the armored ambush predator, and they can be large, leaping furiously clear of the water on its charge to escape your line. Great excitement.

I brought three of these creatures up to the pier today but only landed one, the others were too large and broke the line (#12 test on a light rod). At this point it obviously makes sense to invest in a more substantial rig.

There's doubtless a moral in all of this but I won't draw it. That's up to you.

Fish on,

LSP

Open The Gate

Sure, open the gate but to what, hog hunting? That was the plan but it fell apart because we went out to catch Bluegill for dinner and couldn't stop.

First Catch Of The Day

H.E. pulled out the first, big as a dinner plate, thank you very much, and they kept on coming, one enormous, piranhalike predator after another. Outstanding fishing, with more than enough and to spare.

Some Old Fool With A Fish

By the time the beasts were filleted, beer batter deep-fried and eaten, delicious, the pig hunting moment had passed. Not to worry, there's plenty of time to get on the porcuswine  in another evolution.

Keepers, The Rest Went Back

The next day, as the fierce Texan sun rose in the morning sky and the rest of the team slumbered, it seemed right to try the waters again. 

Typical

First off, a few familiar perch and that was fine, good fun, but you feel the need to change it up. So I went topwater with a torpedo in search of Bass and BANG!

Ho, Ho, Ho! A Bass!

After a few minutes of patient, twitching retrieve, Bass were exploding onto the lure with piscine fury. Big fun but word to the wise. It's tempting, in the initial crash of the predator onto your lure, to try and set the hook. 

Fighter

Don't, you'll probably lose the fish. Instead, let the beast take the lure, dive down and the fight's yours.

Ferox

And so it was, I lost a couple and caught a couple. Great sport and I left that compound uplifted in mind, body and spirit. Next time we'll address the hog issue.

The moral of this exciting story? If you miss the hog, get on the fish.

Tight lines,

LSP

Follow The Flag Catch The Fish

Orders are simple. RV (Rendezvous) with friendly forces at a 

secret location, deep in rural Texas. 

Then follow the flag.

And when you do, you catch fish.

There's a moral here, if you care to draw it. In other news, the Grand Commander's accused Canada's Suprema of being "weak" and "dishonest." Other's say there's a "special place in hell" for "backstabbers."

Don't say Little Potato,

LSP

This Town's On The Up

For something like a year now, our lying, corrupt, elite, mendacious, venal, smug, cheating, rude mainstream media has worked around the clock to prove Moscow altered the course of history and won Trump the 2016 election. 

Of course they haven't uncovered any evidence, apart from a lawyer who was allowed into the country by the Obama DOJ, and the Church of England which was filmed disappearing into a portal.

Texas Yeti

Still, it pays to be prepared for any eventuality and, as a prepper, I took Blue Vigilant along with me to the Pick 'n Steal this morning, just in case we were attacked by marauding Kremlins. Blue Semper Paratus stood guard while I bought some strong coffee. Did it go into a Texas Yeti? Yes, it did.

This made the coffee taste all the better and I reflected on that as we patrolled back to the Compound. You see, it's not just the coffee that seems to be on the uptick, the town itself is revitalizing. Seriously.

Putting America Back to Work

Houses are being fixed up, two new restaurants have opened on the town square, a pub is about to open and so is a coffee shop. Even the venerable Compound's about to get a facelift, if the Mexican painting crew ever shows up.

Long story short, people are investing in this small Texan farming community. Maybe we should thank Russia for making sure Mr. Trump won the election.

MAGA,

LSP

Catch The Fish

About time, LSP! And to be fair to you, yes, it was. Fishing, for me lately, has been more of a matter of casting away into the watery depths and losing lures on snags than actually catching anything. But that changed today.

There we were, just me, Blue Texas Rig and a lake, not too far from Maypearl, in Ellis County. Off I cast with a green worm, thinking "you can't lose with chartreuse" and sure enough, within a few minutes of slow retrieve, there was a strike. The rod bent double and the line played out, big excitement. Fish on. 

We fought, the fish and I, and the fish won, but at least something was biting. Sure enough, 10 minutes later the same scene played out and up thrashed a mighty Leviathan, lured by the enticing qualities of a sparkly green plastic worm.

The dog was fascinated and so was I. Go fishing and actually catch a fish. Remarkable. I put the monster of the deep back in the lake; who knows, maybe it'll gain a few pounds and fight again another day.

Fish on,

LSP

Texas Country

In a bold attempt to escape the intense political drama that is daily life in modern America, I drove out to visit the flock. That took me to a ranch, with trees. Those of you who understand the reality of Texas' bucolic Mesquite groves will know how pleasant that is.

I shot at a pig there once, from a moving Gator, and missed.

Heart of Oak,

LSP

A Chance Encounter in Texas

We all get into routines, some are good, some less so. My routine is this. Say Morning Prayer from the 1928 Prayer Book, none of your newfangled rubbish, thank you very much, then take the dog for a walk and get a coffee. That's what I did today, and as I was standing outside the filling station, sipping my coffee, and enjoying the crisp, sunny Texan morning, I heard singing.

It was faint at first and sounded like a spiritual. The singing grew louder; sure enough, it was a spiritual and its source was a middle aged black man walking down the road by the 1st Baptist Church. He was wearing a Russian style hat with ear flaps and a dirty old parka, defense against the cold, I suppose.

Blue Stryker went on guard as the singing gentleman came closer and stopped,  just out of range of the leashed dog. I smiled at him and he smiled back, "Is that a cow dog?" he asked, "They're real smart dogs! I got three. Say, do you have a cigarette?" I told I did and threw him one, as he cleverly stayed out of the dog's attack zone. "Bless you, brother," he said, and went on his way, singing his spiritual. "God bless you," I replied, and meant it.

I liked that man and file this story under "country life in Texas."

Your Old Friend,

LSP