Blind with jealousy over all the Texas Slams being posted lately, I managed to find my way to the marsh by smell and touch. Once there, I realized I'd forgotten my seat...fortunately, I had my small cooler to sit precariously on. Not great for my butt or back, but the fish care not about these things. Stupid! I went looking for Fabian, the Incredible Hulk redfish from last week, hoping we could honor my Norse ancestors this Leif Erikson Day.
Almost immediately I saw tails, glorious tails waving all sexy and seductive like on a grassy mud flat. Like a loser, I reached for my Cocahoe and spinning rod instead of the fly rod. Shameful! First bunch of tails I see in months, and I take the easy way out. Leif would axe me, never to return. The fish ate alright, and pulled like a Trident submarine, but realizing I was a colossal wimp and an embarrassment to Vikings everywhere, broke me off in disgust. And rightly so as I took the cowards way out. Re-tying with another Cocahoe...honestly, why do I bother fishing anything else when this is all the fish ever want to eat?...I cast to some nervous water with acrobatic shrimp and pulled in this specimen:
I like trout just fine, and they are always polite and friendly to me, but I'll never understand why people get all excited about them. Reds are much better pullers of line and prettier to look at. Never the less, I wished him a happy L. E. Day and we both agreed to go out separate ways and see other people.
The spot where I caught Fabian was devoid of fish today, possibly because they were abducted by aliens. Here today, gone tomorrow, that's the way of the transient redfish. Channeling the spirit of the mighty Norse explorer himself, I set sail across the waters to explore new marshlands and seek for glory and fish fortune. Hours spent on Googly Earf filled my brain with knowledge (the k is silent) about this mysterious new marsh. But the very high tides and no moving water made it hard to figure out where to fling my Kokomohoho. Jumping shrimp and massive wakes were just the clue I needed and sure enough, I found some. Letting loose the Kokomohoho of piscean devastation, I pulled in this savage marauder:
To those who cry out: "Cuervo! You idiot! Those things have ferocious teeth that can chomp your thumb! Stop doing that and inspiring kids and stupid people to copy you!!", I say...you're right. Man up and don't be such wimps.
That's why I have this with me on all my trips:
POW!!! Note the manly blood on my mighty thumb.
If only I could catch another redfish to make up for the one I lost. Oh Thor and Odin and Freya, give a loser a boost, huh? I'll sacrifice some Zapp's crawtators to appease your ravenous selves!
"You got it buddy" was their reply.
A few more of these things appeared on my hook too.
And I bled like a champ all over the place. Did you bleed for your fish today? Feh. Thought so.
Feeling all proud of myself and regretting nothing, I made a couple more casts on my way out of the marsh and caught this kooky kat.
Seriously man, I'm gonna start eating Kokomo-hoho minnows myself, since every other damn creature chomps them like Doritos. Enjoy the cooler weather and I hope you get some grand slams and bloody thumbs this weekend and the next!
