Pre-Picnic Pescador Parlance

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Pre-Picnic Pescador Parlance

Post by Special Ed on Tue 19 Jul 2011, 4:10 pm

"What the heck was that!?" quickly ran through my head as I pulled out of my driveway at 4am.

A flurry of birds I think... wisping around through a cloud of bugs. They flew so damn close to the windshield that my badly sleep encrusted eyes barely made them out. A little knuckle rub to flush the crust out and it's back to my slow roll out of the neighborhood.

An elderly lady in her robe and isotoner slippers walks her cockapoo. We look at each other as I roll past, same look on both our faces:

" You just woke up, didn't you?"

I pull off alongside the road at my pond with half a cup of McDonald's piss poor excuse for coffee down my gullet. Stumbling my two rods out of the trunk in the dark, cursing in a whisper. Stupid treble hooks. I could have shouted my obscenities, nobody would hear me at this hour, why did I whisper?

Fishing is funny in full darkness. A comedy of errors and ironic injustices. Snag some low-lying brush on your first cast, lost that lure. Tie on a new one, cast again.... hmm didn't hear it hit the water. Reel it in and find that your new knot was tied wrong, lost that lure too. Grab your tackle box and open it up upside down because you can't see which way is up in the dark, lost THOSE lures...

You make due with what you have or can find. Maybe manage to land a fish or two, and even find a few of those lost lures as the sun's radiance begins to light the world anew. You feel an air of confidence added to your step just before you find the entrance to a muskrat tunnel with your previously dry left foot. That hole turns your ankle and trips you up into a thick wad of thorn bushes along the shore.

I think fury is the word... yep fury. You know that intense anger that causes the sweat to pour from your brow as you blasphemously construct a monster of a tirade leaving no room for salvation. That single vein bulge in your neck near your collarbone pulsating, the throbbing quickens as you near the end of your half whispered/half yelled damnation of this cursed scummy pond. Maybe I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed?

Sitting in a heap, coarse dry grass poking me through my trouser legs, I let out a long deep breath. Then a chuckle.

Company picnic is this afternoon... bet the guys will get a chuckle out of this one too. All the fishing stories they put up with, my antics, triumphs and tragedies.... I bet they like hearing about my dumbass moves the most.

What is it about humility that makes or breaks you? I know folks that run and hide from even the slightest possibility of being humiliated, and those that just plain don't care if they make fools of themselves. Where do I fit on that sliding scale?

Ah, who cares...



I got up, brushed myself off, got back to fishing and finished out the morning in a considerably better mood.



The water levels were down at least ten inches, and clarity was 4+ feet. I could see the bottom everywhere I went. Unfortunately this also meant the fish could see me as soon as I could see them, or sooner. Long casts were necessary, and most hits came the instant the 5.25" StankX Stix in my favorite pond color; Toxic John, hit the water.




I did try a few other lures... some topwaters, a swimjig and a frog, but they just weren't eating it like the stix. Could have been the increased casting distance I was getting with the stix vs. the other lures. Whatever it was, once I got onto the fish it was steady action for a good 30 minutes.




I don't really count how many fish I catch anymore... That is unless I am keeping fish to take home, then I make sure I only keep my legal limit (that is assuming I can even catch that many). I don't really measure them either... just kinda stopped caring how big. I know what a big fish feels like and looks like in my hand, the numbers are useless data.




These were mostly big fish. They fought really hard too, especially considering how warm the water is.


I wonder if my co-workers at the company picnic will even listen to this part of the story? I think it's the best part, but what do I know?



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Special Ed
Baby Crow

Posts : 65
Join date : 2011-03-17

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Pre-Picnic Pescadar Parlance

Post by Gary on Wed 20 Jul 2011, 2:58 pm

Hey Special Ed, Loved the story, been there done that! Looks like the fishing ended up being pretty good when the fish could see too!!Laughing
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Gary
Dances With Crows

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Join date : 2011-03-31
Location : New Bern, NC

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