One of the things I like to do is go to the local Cowboy Church's men's breakfast. They're good guys who aren't afraid of their faith and I always leave uplifted in spirit. Speaking of which, one of the cowboys had lifted up his Jeep, it's called Bad Santa.
After a frugal meal of scrambled eggs, biscuits and gravy, I went fishing with a couple of the breakfasteers on Lake Whitney, on a boat. It was neat to scud over the choppy water at speed, with the spray and the wind whipping past. Similar, in a way, to an all out run on a horse; a whole lot of speed. I like that.
We cast about in coves, inlets and along sand bars and banks but the going was slow. Then Seagulls appeared, feasting on baitfish and sure enough, a school of Sand Bass wasn't far behind. There they were, churning up the water in a ferocious feeding frenzy.
Brisk action and it was catch as fast you could cast and then the Sandies were gone, surging after their prey. We got on them, along with a few Stripers, two more times before they disappeared into the depths. Big fun.
Then it was time to head back to the Compound, mission accomplished.
Thanks, JH and SO. Great result.
Fish on,
LSP
