Fish On

 

We have choices in life, contrary to Marxist determinism, and such is the beauty of free will. For example, you can sit staring at a screen in slack-jawed trad consternation or you can go fishing. I chose the latter option and pointed the rig at Lake Whitney.

This was once a reef in a vast inland sea

There it was, shining and hazy under a hot Texan sun, but would there be fish and would they bite? I cast off with worms to find out and... nothing, apart from a lazy little Gar who swooped down on my worm, held it in its beak, swam away at leisure for about 60 yards, ate half the worm and dropped the rest. He didn't even run, and who can blame him, it was hot.

Behold Leviathan and the mighty Brazos

Soldiers Bluff being a bust I headed across the dam to try my luck from the pier. Slow going at first but then I spotted them, two stationary Bass on a ledge next to the dam's wall. Off goes the worm, cast a little ahead of the fish, followed by a slow retrieve onto their position. Boom! Strike!

Nice little Drum

A couple of minutes of diving, thrashing, rod double action later up comes a very decent fish. Good fight and back you go, great result. So, send another worm into the depths, untargeted this time, a blind shot and another slow retrieve. And what's this, a tug, and another, hookset! It felt like a Black Drum and sure enough it was, not as cool as a Bass but still, plenty of piscine action.

That complete, it was time to head back to the Compound, mission accomplished. I file this exciting story under "Country Life in Texas."

Tight Lines,

LSP