A first chance at smallies...October 04, 2016
Euphoric highs and toddler-level tantrum lows make up nearly every fishing trip that I go on. This past weekend’s adventure started with excitement: my first chance at smallmouth bass. Within the first 10 casts or so I felt the first tug. As with all subsurface bass hits, my immediate thought was that I was hung up on a rock. This time, the rock fought back. True to the chatter about smallies, the fight was awesome. I didn’t win that round. Smallie head shakes: 1, my hook-set: 0. A strong case of sudden-onset blues followed shortly after. It took 2 hours, a heavy crayfish fly to the scapula and many more casts hung up on real rocks before the elation came roaring back. A tug. A real tug. After hook-setting like I meant it this time I was rewarded with an awesome netful of stripe-faced predator goodness. Despite the lowest lows, it is always the bliss that sticks in my mind and will get me back out there.