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Low water, healthy but small |
Twelve days. That is
about how long it takes for wading boots to dry out in my garage in all this
humidity. Man, I wonder if it has been
that long since we had any steady rain too?
Twelve days since I last fished. My
butt is tired, but I did earn three graduate credits last week attending an
intensive online writer’s retreat. I did
this for credit last summer, and it was just as long, but I think this one was
tougher. We moved totally to Zoom, but
we did not cut back much of the program besides the meals together and the alcohol. It was too hot to trout fish most places,
anyway, so it was a good use of my time, and I generated a lot of poetry in ten
days, which will help come fall and spring when I get stuck—always good to have
a couple that just need another revision, another edit. I was praying for rain this weekend, and it
did happen to the north of us, but just storms and showers. One of my favorites got a good spike on
Saturday, but I had to catch up on my actual job on Sunday. I thought maybe today would still show some
of the benefits, but all I found were muddy banks, signs of flood, but low
water again. Trying to respect my fishy
friends, I fished the early shift, from 5:15 AM to about 8:45 AM, and I found
fish, but they were all smaller than what I was catching in the same holes a
few short weeks ago. Still, it was good
to get out and catch 8 to 10 fish before rush hour. One took a drowned ant
pattern on the dropper, and one took a pink bomb that I tied on for a deep
riffle around 8:30 AM in a last ditch effort to catch one over 10 inches long. The rest took a size 16 walts worm in shallow
riffles and pocket water. Unless this pattern changes, I am a bass or
summer flounder fisherman, I fear. I may
have one longer trip west or north in me, however.
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The early shift. Come on rain! |
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