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#2252932
“Feeling so old, years pass like days. Vastly changing, so many ways.”—December by Static-X
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Yes, the year is almost done and I completed the circle of fishing life by heading back to where 2017 started for me; the oyster reefs in the bay. It was time to check on my trout friends and catch up on the gossip.
I donned my waders and rain jacket to fend off the cold drizzle and headed out to where I last left them. The water was 61 degrees and off-color. The breeze wasn’t too bad and the tide was falling slightly. On the way, I stopped by a marsh channel to test out the repair job I did on my spinning rod. Had to replace a guide (bonus points if you can identify which one).
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I flung my cocahoe around like a champ and it didn’t take long till somebody whacked it.
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A fine start I thought to myself. And the very next cast:
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Yep. Like a Hoover.
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I keep telling you, readers of TKF, trout LOVE the cocahoe! A few more casts with my mended rod failed to impress any more trout and I was instantly depressed. I began humming ABBA tunes to cheer up, and this attracted a redfish. Pro tip: They LOVE ABBA songs. He began busting bait along a grassy shoreline nearby, so I put the ninja sneak on him and cast a few times into his path before he finally realized it was his sworn duty to eat my hook.
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He had broad shoulders and a noble demeanor, so I saluted him as he swam off. By now, I was happy that my rod is in good order, so I cast my icy gaze outward to the bay and all the fish on the reefs knew I meant business. I put the death grip on my casting rod and headed out into the unknown. A couple of hours went by and no fish stuck themselves to my hooks. Hmmmmmmmmmm...what to do? The Jedi ghosts of Txspeck and Salty Kat appeared on the pale grey horizon, murmuring wisdom and bolstering my resolve. I kept at it, grinding with mighty determination. I concentrated on a reef complex in 4 feet that had ridges and humps coming up to 1.5’. Finally, I felt that ever so slight *tick* and pulled hard on the rod. It pulled back.
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Ahhhhhhhh. That’s more like it.
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I marked the waypoint (as is my tradition when fishing bays) and kept at it. From here on out, it was on. Trout after hungry trout assaulted my FAAAABULOUS pink Fat Boy.
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Nothing monstrous, but plenty of solid fish.
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They were trying their best to cram the Fat Boy down their throats.
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All were in 2.5-4 feet around the reefs.
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Even this little idiot.
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Feeling giddy and exhausted, I watched the light grow dim and figured I’d beat a retreat to start the drive home. A good day on the bay and as always, no fish were killed during the making of this report. Until next time, keep on keepin’ on!




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#2252935
I called my friend to see if he went fishing yesterday, “no, he says, I decided to help my wife take down Christmas decorations.” I felt so let down. But your report picked me right back up. I think I spot the rod repair. I have a stable of broken rods that I use for parts and some power pro braid works nicely for the guide thread.

Those star studded fish look like they are getting into their winter fat clothes. And such gluttony forcing down one fat boy after another. It’s like they have no will power. If they keep it up they are sure to develop a paunch. Trout obesity is a growing problem.

Redfish, they’re different. They certainly enjoy holiday feasting like their cousins, the trout. But they know when it’s time to back away from the table and take a stroll around the marsh. I mean how do you think they get such handsome shoulders? They know deep down in their hearts that they are going to bust out of this crappy backwater bay one day and get on a much bigger stage, but they aren’t going to get there hanging around the reef all day snacking and gossiping like the trout.
#2252941
It’s hard to say who’s better looking. Redfish have those big, pouty lips.
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But trout have a streamlined, sculpted face.
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I love them both, despite the obesity epidemic that soon will afflict my trout friends. Karst is correct. They have trouble turning off the feeding mode. And that suits me fine. I celebrated my catch of the pouty red with some of the candy that appeared in my stocking.
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Enough of this, and I too will puff up like a winter trout. The 30” speck on a pink corky sets my resolve even firmer than before that I must catch one of those! Thanks TxSpeck, for the continued inspiration! May the trout Force be with us all.
I forgot to mention the boat full of 4 chuckle heads that saw me catching fish towards the end of the day. They moved right on up and all 4 stepped out to wade. They looked to be fishing plastics on jigheads. One caught a fish and I grumbled to myself. The whole entire bay and they have to move in on poor ol’ Cuervo. Where is justice? Where is punishment? Ten minutes later, the water witches responded. These yahoos didn’t appreciate the oyster reef moonscape below and when I heard the first whooping, I thought another fish was hooked. Nope. 61 degree bay water had partly filled chucklehead number 1’s waders when he stepped off a reef and into 4’ of briney water. I smiled to myself and thanked the fish gods. Not 5 minutes later, chucklehead number two let out a series of whoops and hollers. Surely this must be a fish? And....nope. Another testicular soaking and instantaneous and aggressive retreat into the chucklehead’s abdominal cavity had occurred. I landed another trout and gave praise to the water witches. As I released the trout, I heard chucklehead number 3 announce: “OK, let’s reel it in fellas!” Fishing karma is real and you should be nice to each other and honor the fishing gods. Don’t be a chucklehead!

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#2253036
Ok. As promised, here’s my update from today. Not that anyone asked. But I don’t care. Trout weren’t in the cards today. The weather was nasty (47 degrees tops) and the water was cold (51-53 all day).
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“The Road will never end. It always starts again.”—Megadeth
So imagine my surprise when this little weirdo ate my cocahoe on the pedal to the bay.
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I was feeling peckish too. I made some trail mix for today’s adventure. Chock full of vitamins and minerals to keep me chugging throughout the frigid day.
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Long story short, I worked the bay reefs for a few hours with not so much as a nibble on my shocking pink corky fat boy. Prime directive shifted to the marsh and channels where I figured some reds and maybe trout were seeking slightly warmer and deeper water. I kept getting nibbles on my cocahoe, but no solid chomping. So I put in a smaller version.
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Yep. That’ll do it.
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I released this fine specimen and saw a tail waving and bobbing a few yards away. No WAY! I cast and...


...snagged on oyster. Figures. Wait! Another tail a few yards down the shore!! Sneak on over, say a prayer to the marsh witches, and..
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A nice FAT redfish! (Side note: I’m wearing my Glacier Gloves because they are the best cold weather fishing gloves known to mankind. Get some if you fish cold water like I do and you’ll never have cold digits again).
The wind was hardly blowing and as the sun got lower, more tails eased up over the glassy surface and waved seductively at me.
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They couldn’t resist the smaller cocahoe.
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Great gloves clutching a great fish. Life is good.
This might be my last fishing trip of 2017, so I leave you with glad tidings from my redfish pals:
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Hopefully you get a chance to catch some fish before 2017 eases into history.
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Now don’t just sit there...go find some fish, catch them, and write a report! Dammit!


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#2253045
What do you eat first? I like the Chex, then the almonds, why do they even bother putting in raisins?

Glad you found some. I’ve been waiting for winter to get back to normal which means no winter. You are made of hearty Scandinavian/Wyoming stock and thrive in chilly temperatures. There may be a brief mild weather window later today or tomorrow allowing for some fishing for less robust types like me. If I get out and my digits don’t freeze, maybe I will put out an account of the happenings.
#2253049
I hope you get out Karst. The next three days should be great weather and the fish will be stuffing their faces. Mrs. Cuervo has me booked solid so I am dry-locked the rest of the year. I was absolutely crushed that I didn’t bring my fly rod yesterday. Would have been PERFECT to mess with the tailers along the bank.


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#2253067
Congrats on your success lately Cuervo! King of the report section for sure. Great job on your reports and keeping this place alive. I guess I will move on to 2fool and post over there since I won’t be paddling anymore. I will swing over to the west end and have a beer with ya. Black SCB Recon.


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