vortec_cruiser
09-03-2011, 07:25 PM
Since I'm down in Lakewood every Saturday, it's only logical that I stop by the L.A. River for some carp action. I got there about 11:30 AM today, and was glad to see no other people in the spot I fish.
Putting several kernels of corn on my hook, I cast out into a likely spot. Since the water is moving, this is like fishing a real river. But with the running water, there always seems to come lots of floating and suspended algae. It's very annoying to get a large blob of this moss hung up on your line every minute or so. However, in between those annoying moments, there is the thrill of waiting for those subtle taps on your line. After about twenty minutes of nothing but moss removal action, there is that light tug, tug on the end of my line. Lightly setting the hook, it feels like I've got a good one this time. It immediately takes off like a muscle car, headed for parts unknown. Fortunately for me, this one doesn't head downstream toward freedom at the submerged concrete and rebar that lies in that direction. After an 8-10 minute tug-of-war, this bad boy begins to lose some of his steam, and I'm able to work him to the sandy beach. I quickly take a photo of him, and then I carefully push him back out into the water. He gently swims away, hopefully to be caught and released many more times. He was just under two feet long, and well-fed.
http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r229/luvtnt/Fishing2/Sept0320111.jpg
Putting several kernels of corn on my hook, I cast out into a likely spot. Since the water is moving, this is like fishing a real river. But with the running water, there always seems to come lots of floating and suspended algae. It's very annoying to get a large blob of this moss hung up on your line every minute or so. However, in between those annoying moments, there is the thrill of waiting for those subtle taps on your line. After about twenty minutes of nothing but moss removal action, there is that light tug, tug on the end of my line. Lightly setting the hook, it feels like I've got a good one this time. It immediately takes off like a muscle car, headed for parts unknown. Fortunately for me, this one doesn't head downstream toward freedom at the submerged concrete and rebar that lies in that direction. After an 8-10 minute tug-of-war, this bad boy begins to lose some of his steam, and I'm able to work him to the sandy beach. I quickly take a photo of him, and then I carefully push him back out into the water. He gently swims away, hopefully to be caught and released many more times. He was just under two feet long, and well-fed.
http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r229/luvtnt/Fishing2/Sept0320111.jpg