Yesterday, I went to a small lake that gets rainbow trout stocked into it. Not for the stupid hatchery trout! Come on! You know me better than that! I went for the bass that are swallowing those little morsels!
Long story short (you’re welcome), I had one bite on a glide bait, but nothing else. It was nice to be out, but some jackholes on shore fishing with surf rods and huge corks were blasting mariachi music and yelling at each other in Spanish the whole time I was there. I, and everyone else, could here them clear across the small lake. Not the nicest experience. Also, BBZ Swimbaits are junk and break upon hitting the water.
Save your sheckles and buys something more useful, like a bottle of scotch or some meth.
Not a great way to start the year, I agree. I sought to redeem my good name today and headed for the bay. It looked like a good day for big trout, so I figured I’d hit a spot that I’ve caught some nice ones before.
With all the talk of trolling around here lately, I naturally began by trolling a cocahoe through the marsh and channels.
Wammy!!! First fish of 2018. Cute little fella, but not the size I was hoping for.
No tails or redfish wakes along the shore...because I had my fly rod all rigged and ready to roll. Redfish are diabolical and KNOW when you’re out to get them. Very well. Trout it is.
In the bay, there were boats all over and guys wading along reefs. Crap. I avoided them and hit some spots I know. I also picked up a floating beer can, an empty Super Spook jr package, and a sandwich container. All were in about the same are and hadn’t been floating long. Call to identify any, and I’ll gladly return them to you. People who litter make me fart. Minutes became hours and no fish ate my fat boy. I trolled slow. I twitched it just so. I trolled faster. Finally, just as I was about to go back into the marsh and try to scrounge up some redfish, a solid thump. Drag pulled and I thought I’d hooked a red. A couple of times around the kayak and more drag pulling, before I finally saw the flash...of silver!
First trout of the year is 25”. I gave thanks to the fish gods.
The wind died down and the mosquitoes began to fly sorties around my face and hands so I decided to head back.
Until next time, this is Cuervo Jones, the stable genius reminding you to give a hoot and don’t pollute!
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