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Still super sore from laborious work week, the weekend angler gets up EARLY on Saturday. I ate some ibuprofen, washed it down with a cup of joe and loaded up the hoopty. I felt the unsettled weather and thought I should click on the Fake Radar. Well defined squall line pushing in from the coast, ETA one hour. I thought about warning off Todd, but then the weekend angler thought better of it. I drove to the lake to meet Todd at the appointed time: 6:00 A.M.

No lightning flashes, so we shoved off first, because if you’re not first, you’re last. It would be two hours before a yakker launched behind us. We fished some pond weed by the ramp, drifted along the swim beach, drop shot a channel, hauling water along the way. I took Todd to my honey hole, a drop off into 12 FOW. He scored a couple on jackhammer. I missed three strikes on TR swim worm, doh.

We went back towards the dam to escape the hella wind. I was desperate for a fish, the dreaded “S” word creeping to the fore of my mind. I told Todd we were moving to the spot where I caught fish Thursday. He asked if I’d set a waypoint. I told him I don’t set way points because I locate by visual landmarks. We arrived on station and dropped anchor.

I brought out my desperation lure, Stumpy Crush. I cast it to the outside edge. The DS worm was struck and I reel set, excited to evade the skunk. I boated the fish and removed the mosquito hook from the upper lip. Reflexively, I looked in the fish’s mouth and saw black nickel. I looked at my DS to make sure it was all there, yep. It could mean only one thing. This was the fish that I broke off on the hookset Thursday afternoon. I showed Todd the gullet and grabbed my pliers. Fortunately, the EWG hook was already belly out. I slowly extracted the hook. At the hook offset, the soft plastic worm was showing and I was tickled pink. I was able to safely remove the lure. This was the fish that I broke off (an eighth inch above the shark knot). I was so happy to make amends by saving the fish. Told you I don’t need a waypoint to find my spots.

Todd caught a couple more on drop shot and then we decided to brave the winds and return to my honey hole. At the honey hole, I caught two more on the Stumpy Crush. We were anchored on the bow cleat to keep from dragging the ‘shroom. Todd was having to fish over my shoulder. He kindly refused my offer to switch seats. The wind went to fresh on the Beaufort and rollers were breaking over the bow. We called for a flank bell from the troller and barely made headway into the wind that was coming directly from the ramp. We quartered the chop and got to the ramp. I would have taken rain over wind but it was still a fun morning in the two-man. Off at 10 am.
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