Marley
11-18-2010, 08:29 PM
Reports here hinted at a nostalgic bite for me at SARL so off I went this fine Thursday morning to visit an old friend. Armed with an arsenal used often to strike fear into the hearts of trout, along with a good dose of Internet courage, I set up at the Pumphouse. My brother and I used to annihilate the trout there and, being more interested in the admiration of our fellow fishers than in keeping our spot a secret (DOH!!!) we always shared exactly where it was we caught our fish. Of course, every boy and his dog had their way with our spot and it soon lost its draw.
That was 23 years ago.
So I sat it out today on the shoreline, working on a diamond willow cane blank and drowning worms and everything else I could think of to toss at what should have been a lot of hungry trout. I mean, their website and videos say they planted Wednesday, right? I guess no one told the fish because it was a pick bite at best all morning long and by 11:00, I had one very small trout (trophy Tailwalkers?) in the basket. I did briefly play with something very large, a sturgeon we think judging by the heavy, dead-weight pull. Three successive heavy headshakes was all I got, unlike a big trout, and no tail beating as would a big catfish. Whatever it was it took me for a ride for about ten minutes, then spit the hook.
I realized that I was not having fun, and that's usually a good time to leave. So as I'm driving to the gate and wondering how I'm going to word this post, I realized that I was not being true to myself and following my usual game plan: rent a boat and open the Book of Secret Spots.
Long and short, it was the right thing to do. I dragged a Mirashad around the lake once for no love and then set up on a spot that has almost always produced. It did not disappoint. I had my first fish from the spot in the basket less than ten minutes after anchoring the boat, and my limit fish less than two hours after that. A slow bite to be sure, but not bad for hitting it at one o'clock in the afternoon.
The fish were cookie-cutter pound and a halfers. Not the trophies management crows about, but hard-fighting, great-tasting, eating-sized fish. All of them hit a bait that has become almost an obsession: a jumbo mealworm on a size 14 Owner Mosquito hook, blown up like a 'crawler and fished Carolina style 24" off the bottom. The lead is a 1/16 oz. bullet sinker held in place by a size BB split shot. The blowing-up is tricky to get, but the technique is deadly.
So like all relationships worth keeping, this one between me and SARL took a bit of work today. I realized mid-morning that I had not taken more than three fish from the lake on any trip over the course of the last year, and that includes two skunks this summer while hunting for whiskers. The place truly is either very kind to you or very stingy with you, and there's not a whole lot in between.
That was 23 years ago.
So I sat it out today on the shoreline, working on a diamond willow cane blank and drowning worms and everything else I could think of to toss at what should have been a lot of hungry trout. I mean, their website and videos say they planted Wednesday, right? I guess no one told the fish because it was a pick bite at best all morning long and by 11:00, I had one very small trout (trophy Tailwalkers?) in the basket. I did briefly play with something very large, a sturgeon we think judging by the heavy, dead-weight pull. Three successive heavy headshakes was all I got, unlike a big trout, and no tail beating as would a big catfish. Whatever it was it took me for a ride for about ten minutes, then spit the hook.
I realized that I was not having fun, and that's usually a good time to leave. So as I'm driving to the gate and wondering how I'm going to word this post, I realized that I was not being true to myself and following my usual game plan: rent a boat and open the Book of Secret Spots.
Long and short, it was the right thing to do. I dragged a Mirashad around the lake once for no love and then set up on a spot that has almost always produced. It did not disappoint. I had my first fish from the spot in the basket less than ten minutes after anchoring the boat, and my limit fish less than two hours after that. A slow bite to be sure, but not bad for hitting it at one o'clock in the afternoon.
The fish were cookie-cutter pound and a halfers. Not the trophies management crows about, but hard-fighting, great-tasting, eating-sized fish. All of them hit a bait that has become almost an obsession: a jumbo mealworm on a size 14 Owner Mosquito hook, blown up like a 'crawler and fished Carolina style 24" off the bottom. The lead is a 1/16 oz. bullet sinker held in place by a size BB split shot. The blowing-up is tricky to get, but the technique is deadly.
So like all relationships worth keeping, this one between me and SARL took a bit of work today. I realized mid-morning that I had not taken more than three fish from the lake on any trip over the course of the last year, and that includes two skunks this summer while hunting for whiskers. The place truly is either very kind to you or very stingy with you, and there's not a whole lot in between.