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Todd had texted me last night that he wanted to fish close to home, ergo Decker. This morning on our way to the highway I mentioned that I like to split the weekend between two different lakes. He asked if I wanted to go to Bastrop. I considered it briefly. Probably more shelter at Bastrop from the honking north wind, not to mention the warm power plant water, plus Decker was a grind for me yesterday. Quickly I responded, we’re going to Decker. Oh yeah, by the way, the angler with the Caracal told me yesterday that the fat ones were smashing the red rattle trap at the discharge.

We launched the Stratos second, backing down next to a black Ranger. Todd blasted off thru the chop and I cinched up my hoodie. We rounded the horn into the teeth of the wind. My eyes watered and I asked, “The discharge?” Todd nodded and pinned the throttle to get on top of the rollers. He eased off plane at the bell mouth of the discharge canal. Evidently the Ranger had other plans, we were to have the discharge to ourselves all morning.

Todd asked, “Are you good here?” and I said yes and cast out TR beaver. Todd spot-locked and then started rummaging thru his boxes. Curious, I looked up front and saw him sorting thru various shades of red, pink and orange lipless crank baits.

I asked, “You’re not gonna fall for that ol’ dock talk nonsense?”

Todd laughed and said, “It only narrows down what I was already thinking. I’m gonna move ten yards into the canal, you good with that?”

This ain’t my first rodeo and I exclaimed, “That spot is money!” Sure enough, a half dozen casts later, the spot paid a big dividend for Todd and I mean a big’un. I was unable to assist the landing because I was making water off the fantail but I craned my neck and exclaimed, “Gosh durn that’s a big fish!”

Todd weighed her, a skinny five pounds six ounces right out of the gate, yeah buddy! Todd lamented she hadn’t filled up with eggs or maybe she already laid them or she would’ve been six. I snapped a pic and we drove in the tent stakes, because we were camping. I caught one on a shad rap and then we both started drop-shotting, catching fish, but much smaller fish. I picked up Todd’s lipless rod and caught one. The bite wasn’t insane, but we were protected from the howling wind and the action was just enough to keep us there. We did have a brief flurry where we doubled up. I had one follower smash the Shad Rap right at the boat, he came off but such a great visual! Ever so often a boat would idle by in the distance but no one ever came over. Todd even waved at one boat to come in, but they changed course and went the other way. At 9:30 the bite had slowed, and I suggested we give it twenty minutes and bail. The count was Todd seven, Jeremy five.

We went to my drop-shot hole but it was covered up so we stopped to consider our options. A boat blasted by at our six and we did double-take. The drop-shot hole was open now. We pulled up to the hole and the wind was coming right down the pike, why did we leave the protected discharge? After about ten minutes of getting battered, I boated a nice drop-shot fish. OK, we’re good to find lee now.

We moved to another spot where I was getting bit yesterday. The wind was still blowing, but I was able to get a fun fish on the Shad Rap from the outside edge. I’d tied the fish count. We looked at the wind and the shoreline and figured if we could get around the next point it might be a little easier to fish. It was a good choice. A combination of the wind letting up a bit and the friction of the shoreline provided us just enough angle and strike zone to get it done. Todd cast drop-shot up wind and got one. For some reason, this catch told me that we were fixing to have some fun.

For the next two hours we had a blast, catching cookie-cutter black-spotted twos and threes from the outside edge on DS roboworms. The wind let up enough that I switched my DS weight from 3/8 back to my preferred 1/4. I passed Todd in the fish count but he never let me gap him by more than one fish. Todd eased us down the shoreline gently and incrementally. We milked that grass for every last bite before sliding down another five yards, perhaps five yards every fifteen minutes or so. We were both joyous to be having such a good time on a lake that’s been rather tough on us the last couple months. At 1:00PM Todd caught a fish that evened the count at sixteen each. My hands and lips were chapped from the wind. My wrist and back ached from drop-shotting. We’d lost some good fish along the way, but the final tally was 32 between the two of us including Todd’s 5-6 kicker. Off at 1:30PM.
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