Plans were made mid-week when we both were finally able to pencil the trip in on the calendar , with the unexpected last minute emergency as the only game breaker. The call had come during a week of milder than usual weather which had both of us thinking about a certain quarry known for it's preference of crisp Fall days and cooler water temperatures. After a long stretch of work I was desperately in need of some water time and my buddy was in need of an outing where he was actually fishing instead of untangling wind knots and yelling "set" to a sport who's trying to update his Facebook page while floating the best section of river.
The prospect of a chilly morning and a three hour drive time had us choosing to fish bankers hours instead of our usual crack of dawn start time for a change.
The lake is just a small city water supply reservoir , 450 acres of electric motors only water where the constant whine you hear can be attributed to an oversized dragonfly circling overhead opposed to that clan of mouth-breathers on their jet skis that frequents the waters you normally fish.
You arrive at the boat ramp and set up the vessel of choice for the day...locked , stocked and loaded with 10 weights , half-chickens lashed to irons and 50 pounds of adrenaline inducing thrust to get to where the action is.
You've played this game before so the reality that you probably had a better chance of hitting that $5000 scratcher you picked up along with your Little Debbies this morning than you do of actually catching the fish you're after doesn't even phase you. The fishing is done in shifts , with one guy running the trolling motor while the other tries to fool one of the toothy predators lurking within the dark waters with a hook full of feathers.
The day goes by too quickly , as is always the case when you finally get to spend time doing something you actually enjoy. The good thing about this kind of trip is that you never have to worry about the fishing not living up to your expectations. We fully expected to end the day with sore shoulders and not much to show for it...in the end it was mission accomplished.
We've all heard the moniker "fish of a thousand casts" thrown around in fishing circles when describing this dentally challenged beast. Now , math was never my strong suit , but I'm pretty sure in the half dozen trips made since taking up this pursuit I've more than met my qouta of ugly casts...now if I can just get my fly in front of a fish who's using the same math I am my luck just might change.
