Wednesday, July 6, 2011

If Fishing is Wrong, I Don't Wanna Be Right

The time of day is wrong. The weather is wrong.  The flow is wrong.  Too much to do at home.  Too much to do at work.  What's going on with the re-fi? Neighbors are selling their house for WHAT? Have to save up my free time.   It's been a rough month or so but I've been making a specific effort to get out regularly for myself and also with Hank.   On one of those days where it was "all wrong" last week, I went fishing on the lower Gunpowder River anyway.  At noon. In late June. 

It was an odd few hours, as the sun just hung there, threatening me with a sunburn.  There were no bass to be seen.  Zero. A few pickerel entertained an idea of striking my lures, but didn't.  They were small, but it would have made a good story, so I kept casting to them.  Note to self: learn how to fish for pickerel.  I ended up having some decent luck with bluegills, longears, and red-breasted sunnies on small chartreuse and pumpkin plastics like this Berkley Power Nymph.  I caught a dozen or so, all by fishing deep into shady cover (overhanging stumps, vines, and trees) and submerged logs.  I lost several plastics, jig heads, and Gamakatsu hooks in the process. I was smart enough to leave the fly rod in the truck.

I almost never get skunked when I go fishing - that's because I usually would rather cancel an outing like this, than stalk up and down a river and sweat in the mid-day sun.  But on this day, I was really, really glad I went.  It sure beat working on the plumbing, calling a bank about this-interest-rate-or-that, or writing contract documents for work.  Hope you're getting out, too.


And just for fun,

1 comment:

e.m.b. said...

Yup, wholeheartedly agree...the worst day of fishing is better than a day of domesticities.