And they were laying low along with the shad in the creek channels at 19’ and below.
After about a half hour of not catching anything, I got all excited when my favorite crawfish colored crankbait stopped dead and I set the hook. My joy became deep despair and suicidal depression when I realized I was snagged on the bottom. My usual trick of going in the opposite direction and pulling hard did nothing. Last time this happened, I lost the crank. And the one before that. That gets pricey and even with all these fantastic corporate tax cuts, I can’t just be throwing money away on the Bottom of the lake. I wasn’t gonna lose my crankbait. Not this time. A while back, I made a super-fantastic, high-tech, tactical lure retriever out of some bits of chain I had laying around, a heavy weight I found in the Colorado river, some zip ties, a little clip, and a marker buoy.
Prepare the device!
I figured it’s worth a shot. Down into the 16’ depths it deployed. I saluted as it sank. The buoy popped up and I grabbed the line and started fidgeting and twitching like a gibbon on crack. At first, nothing. I wiggled the retriever and strummed the fishing line. Nothing. I jiggled them both like the weird old cowboy that controlled Howdy Doody. Nothing. Finally, I just started letting the weight slam down onto the crank again and again as I lifted and dropped it. Then...it caught something. I lifted on the rod and felt the lure lift along with the retriever. SCORE!!! Not only did I get my bait, but I pulled up an entire castnet complete with a fish skeleton in it.
Just one more reason for me to hate castnets. The crank bite slowed, so I went back to throwing Swimbaits to try to get a big fatty to eat. One little guy ate the Mattlures hardgill and threw it at the boat. Another one, probably my anorexic friend from last week ate it at about the same place as last time.
She’s obviously starving. Gut blocked by a soft plastic? I wished her well and decided to call it a day because I got cold and wanted to go home to get something to eat. Packing up, I saw that I had inadvertently annihilated an entire population of blood worms when I removed the net from the watery ecosystem.
This single act will live on in their history as one of the greatest tragedies to befall their kind. I will be remembered as a cruel and vengeful god. Cuervo Jones, the Destroyer of worlds. Tune in next time for the further surprising adventures of my fishing expeditions.
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