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I was a block from my house when I realized I’d forgotten my coat, but no turning back for it, its nice out. Then, I was on the ramp when I realized I’d taken all the packages of soft plastics out of my tackle bag when I got back from Lake Bastrop last Sunday. Lucky for me, I’d grabbed all the leftover loose soft plastics that were laying on my workbench, put them in a Plano box and tossed them in the front seat of the F-150 right before leaving. A routine launch into the stock still lake, I tossed a wacky senko into the calm water over the pond weed.
I saw a couple of bank anglers catch fish and I got optimistic. Then the wind started gusting up, sho’nuff, everytime minutes after launching. So much for senko fishing. I started drifting and cranking all the way across the lake. The north wind was chilly and I regretted leaving my coat. I put on all the clothes that were fortunately in my boat bag.
The wind had pushed me to the opposite bank and as I shallowed up I dropped the anchor. I cast the crank at the edge of the pondweed. I got a strike and a pull off. I thought maybe he didn’t “taste” the hook, so I quickly followed up with an identical cast and retrieve, Bam, fish on!
That would be the only fish I put in the boat. I Texas rigged some green pumpkin Zoom plastics and cast them into the pondweed. I made the rounds and got plenty of short strikes that had me fit to cuss. I’m sure a few choice words escaped my lips and rolled across the water. Like Longhorn, I was wondering if it was the bow in my line, really small fish or an ill-timed swing. Probably a little of each. At least six times I reeled down and swung on a new 5/0 Trokar only to have the fish pull off halfway to the boat. That’s not a thing, in my world anyway. What was happening?
The wind got steadily colder. The short strikes were taking their toll. The fish were either ripping the tails off or balling them on the hook. The lake temp was 66° but my fingers were getting numb from exposure so I put on my fishing gloves and made the round of the cove one more time thanks to the extended evening of Daylight Time (speaking of which, I hope the politicians leave us on Daylight Time and not Standard Time.) Off at 7:30PM CDT.
I ate a leftover burrito for dinner and was straightening up the kitchen when my around-the-corner neighbor Chris knocked on the door. I was glad to see him. He showed me his new piercing, an attractive dangle 1.0 squarebill. Chris told me the story of how it came to get there and he’d remembered where I’d posted the same happened to me. He’d brought with him a stout looking pair of end nipper cutting pliers which I used to cut off the split ring. The next sequence went pretty quick, the technique is proven and is quite amazing in its simplicity of preparation and ease of execution. I thought about a countdown, but instead quickly yanked, seemed appropriate…
Chris had blinked and then eyes got big when he saw the hook was out. We were both really happy at that point. I really liked how Chris described it in his post, he’s a great story teller. Chris and I will have to hit up The Bird together some time. I’ll bring the braid.
![Water Sky Vertebrate Cloud Fisherman]()
I saw a couple of bank anglers catch fish and I got optimistic. Then the wind started gusting up, sho’nuff, everytime minutes after launching. So much for senko fishing. I started drifting and cranking all the way across the lake. The north wind was chilly and I regretted leaving my coat. I put on all the clothes that were fortunately in my boat bag.
The wind had pushed me to the opposite bank and as I shallowed up I dropped the anchor. I cast the crank at the edge of the pondweed. I got a strike and a pull off. I thought maybe he didn’t “taste” the hook, so I quickly followed up with an identical cast and retrieve, Bam, fish on!
That would be the only fish I put in the boat. I Texas rigged some green pumpkin Zoom plastics and cast them into the pondweed. I made the rounds and got plenty of short strikes that had me fit to cuss. I’m sure a few choice words escaped my lips and rolled across the water. Like Longhorn, I was wondering if it was the bow in my line, really small fish or an ill-timed swing. Probably a little of each. At least six times I reeled down and swung on a new 5/0 Trokar only to have the fish pull off halfway to the boat. That’s not a thing, in my world anyway. What was happening?
The wind got steadily colder. The short strikes were taking their toll. The fish were either ripping the tails off or balling them on the hook. The lake temp was 66° but my fingers were getting numb from exposure so I put on my fishing gloves and made the round of the cove one more time thanks to the extended evening of Daylight Time (speaking of which, I hope the politicians leave us on Daylight Time and not Standard Time.) Off at 7:30PM CDT.
I ate a leftover burrito for dinner and was straightening up the kitchen when my around-the-corner neighbor Chris knocked on the door. I was glad to see him. He showed me his new piercing, an attractive dangle 1.0 squarebill. Chris told me the story of how it came to get there and he’d remembered where I’d posted the same happened to me. He’d brought with him a stout looking pair of end nipper cutting pliers which I used to cut off the split ring. The next sequence went pretty quick, the technique is proven and is quite amazing in its simplicity of preparation and ease of execution. I thought about a countdown, but instead quickly yanked, seemed appropriate…
Chris had blinked and then eyes got big when he saw the hook was out. We were both really happy at that point. I really liked how Chris described it in his post, he’s a great story teller. Chris and I will have to hit up The Bird together some time. I’ll bring the braid.
