Get To Water

 

Up at first light, a quick cup of hot tea, rods in the truck and off to an obscure marina near Mission #2. I was hoping for topwater, to my mind the best fishing action, and cast off with a medium torpedo in search of bass. Sure enough, something out there in mid channel was thrashing about in piscine frenzy as it rose from the depths onto schooling shad. But it didn't want my nifty torpedo lure. Huh.

Typical

On reflection, the aquatic ambush predator was probably a gar, or several, and they're not really after plastic torpedoes, they want fish, especially shad. So I should've set up a gar rig and cast off with frozen shad. Oh well, next time. Topwater not producing, I switched to worms and caught a bluegill, which is always fun even if they're small.

Gar are big fun to fish and they're prehistoric, which is cool

Next stop, Soldiers Bluff on Lake Whitney, just minutes down the road, and worms didn't work but top and just subsurface lures showed promise, with a mighty bass (striper?) surging up on the plastic several times but... I didn't close the deal. Still, exciting to watch and as always, good for the soul to be out by the water in the clean, sage-smelling country air of the Texas Free State.

Speaking of water, you may have noticed the UK's Home Office is giving Moslem boat invaders asylum seekers brochures telling the military aged males that rape isn't allowed in the UK. More on this unsavory, absurd, traitorous, dhimwhitted story later.

Fish On,

LSP

Fishing Ascension

It's important to have a plan, and this one was elegant in its simplicity. It went like this, drive to the marina, catch small fish and then use those very same fish to catch large fish. Compelling, eh?

And it worked well, initially. Cast into the depths with a small hook, a chunk of worm and pull out a little perch. Circle hook the perch under its dorsal and cast it out into the wider deep, and while you wait for a monster strike have fun catching more perch as you look at all the boats you don't own.

So far, so good. But the monster never struck, except once, when the light rod bucked and jumped as some ferocious predator snatched at the hapless baitfish. Big excitement, drop your amusement rod and head over to the real deal, which I did, and foolishly in the heat of the moment tried to reel in too aggressively. The big fish sensibly dropped the little fish.

Still, I lost count of the bluegill and kept a few to use as bait. If they'd been a little bigger I'd have kept a few for dinner too; so tasty, fresh bluegill out of Lake Whitney. I like them beer battered and served with fries, but pan fried's good too. Delicious.

Well, that'll come in a week or two. In the meanwhile, every blessing for the Feast of the Ascension and remember, plans are all very well but as with the apprehension of truth itself, rise and fall to the extent they're in harmony with that which is. The equation of mind to thing, say the philosophers. In this case, Leviathan Bass, maybe stripers, striking small perch at the marina, or not.

Fish on,

LSP