It's Called "Fishing" Because "Hunting" Was Already Taken

I had the thrill this week, of doing something that I seldom (closer to never) do. Keep fish caught, for a friend.

As I planned the mission, I realized the real goal was four (the limit) trout caught, all day. This is far less the pressure I usually impose on myself to catch at least five per hour. So, it occurred to me that I wanted to make or at least hope, fishing more difficult. I picked one of the coldest days of the week. I picked a lake not fishing well. And I dangled a carrot that the sooner I could catch her four trout, the sooner I could go back to "warm" and do something else, fishing related.

Experience had my feet carrying me to a place on the lake that fish seem to like-it's generally just small fish and not ultra-reliable. This area would at least give me a chance. Luck took me to a pile of trout, hanging out in the area for several reasons that I could assume. I caught three of the four trout ordered, "in record time". Leaving me to try and extend the fishing time to at least the amount of time the round trip to the lake, totaled! I released several trout larger than any on the stringer. Of course, in the fishing world that's always a curse. When I decided my time spent fishing was worth the drive, I had to settle for the trout smaller than any already on the stringer, to fill out the friend's order. Somewhere between that last fish and arriving home, I decided to return to the same lake next day, and simply release every catch.

Next morning. I was greeted with a thin sheet of ice over the area I fished yesterday. I was almost glad-it would force me to find more trout on this lake everyone says is fishing difficult, right now. I kicked into (bass) tournament mode-a technique that you move quickly not really trying to catch fish rather, simply observing for signs of fish, or detecting strikes, then settling in for five casts and finding if I could "catch", before moving again. All the way around this five or six acre lake I fished-I don't remember a strike. My plan was by the time I made it back to the ice, it would be thawed. Not-and a further assessment determined it may not be thawed another several hours. I'm almost three hours in, and not a miss or a catch.

Drive to another lake I haven't fished for awhile-and likely fishing even more difficult. Finally, at approximately noon as I began a quick retrieve to get my special tie black jig out of the water and back to casting position, a trout suddenly appeared behind the jig that moving like a rocket. I live with these critters (fish), and I know things. This trout saw me and in that little macadamia nut size brain she thought, "Uh oh". I stopped the jig like it hit an invisible underwater barrier-more out of surprise at the trout suddenly appearing. Not part of a strategy which it would be on most days. Saw me or not, the predator angel sitting on her right gill overruled the "Uh oh" response, She lurched forward and inhaled the now sinking black jig. Finally, after 3 1/2 hours fishing, I've conquered the skunk. And, this lake looks more promising! Another 1+ hours and not another "anything". I've one more lake I seldom fish that I can go to, or I can go back and see of the ice has thawed on the lake of the scene of yesterday's crime.

The ice had thawed. Now, I'm going to wrap up the day racking up trout in the same area that I did so yesterday. Not. Down the bank just 50 to 100 feet from where I was, I kept seeing feeding activity. Still, I persisted trying to catch fish where I hammered them day before. Fish that had moved south, about 50 to 100 feet.

This is the situation that stifles success for so many fishermen-trying to catch them where you want to catch them, or the way you want to catch them. I finally relented and made the short hike through the woods and to the "active bank". Waded into the now brown cattails, and mud that felt like it was sucking me to the center of the earth. And well...you know the rest of the story. A catch on the first cast. Fourteen more caught and eight lost (on barbless hooks that actually did cause some losses), in the next hour.

And that's the elephant in the room "lesson", here. Don't give up. Keep moving. Keep adjusting. Get out of your comfort zone. And don't mind cleaning the mud off your coat, pants, boots, car seat, car door, floor mats, arm rest...sigh...there's more...! That is, if success is measured by actually catching fish on an otherwise very-difficult day to catch fish.