Bass Caddy Blog

As all of you can see, I’m Ba-ack!  If you are anything like me you immediately envisioned the movie Poltergeist and sang the word Ba-ack! in the appropriately sing-song creepy voice, so I know we’re on the same page from the get-go.  “T” master was moving our site to another site, bigger, stronger, faster ,smarter - the Six Million Dollar Site!  Ok, I admit, I watched too much TV as a kid (ok adult).  This should really kill me, too much time on my hands waitin’ for the fishin’.   Enough pooter junk.  Its fishin time!!!!!!!

Okay, any bass angler worth his (or her) lifetime subscription to Bassmasters Magazine will tell you that it’s always fishing time, so I will clarify my thoughts for you.  It’s time to start the tournament trail.  Some of you non-fisherman-types are wondering - why February? Why not start at the beginning of the year in oh, say January?  The reason for the seasonal kick-off in February is to make it fair for those Northern Anglers, who have to deal with what they call “Hard Water”.  Being as I’m from the South, I always thought hard water had something to do with too much chemicals or something.  I’ve since found out that above the “Freeze Line” (which varies from year to year according to complicated things like the Jet Stream, and the fifty-first parallel, and Artic Circles or Northern Lights, etc. ) the water gets hard enough in the winter that you can walk on it - i.e. frozen water = hard water.  That little detail of the water being frozen won’t stop a dedicated fisherman, however.  A real dedicated angler just drags a little outhouse-type building over the frozen surface of his favorite fishin’ hole, cuts a hole in the ice, and spends countless blissful hours freezin his fanny and fishin.  Of course real fishin involves bass boats, so until the bass boat makers start making bass boats with even bigger engines (probably impossible) and those fancy ice cutting/crushing tools on the front, the Tournament Trail Time will start around February throughout the nation.   There’s a long time, however, between the time Northern lakes become liquid again and the time this ol Southern boy is warm enough to fish.   I’ll fish in the summer when there’s actual steam rising off the water, but I’ve had my limit of cold for the year now.  I reached that limit pre-fishing for our first Tournament last week

On this particular day in Texas on Lake Richland Chambers, it was colder than a well-diggers heinie in Alaska.  (I’m only guessing here, not having had any personal experience in this area, but I do possess a good imagination).  I want to set the scene for you as I waited eagerly for my fishing season to officially start.   As is common for February, a cold front had passed through the area overnight.  The day before was sunny and mild, so it was somewhat colder than I’d been expecting.  I’d spent a lot of my night dreaming of all the big bass I was going to catch,  and what lures I was going to catch them on, but being a true man, I spent zero time planning my wardrobe for my fishing trip.  It’s actually too bad my wife didn’t come along this time.  She spends as much time planning what she’s going to wear to fish as any part of her pre-fishing agenda.  That means that when she is fishing with me, she also plans what I’m going to wear also.  (I may have mentioned she has some pretty funny ideas about how our outfits should match - but I’ve given up arguing with her and just shut up and let her dress me).  She gets hourly computer weather updates, and plans our wardrobe accordingly.  If I’m fishing on my own, I’m literally on my own, meaning I have to man up and dress myself.  (See  blog “FISH ENVY” for a full explanation). 

Last Thursday was, coincidentally, the fifth, and thats exactly what I decided I should have had to drink instead of coffee.   I want to reassure all of my readers that the fifth mentioned was strictly for medicinal purposes, as it is a scientific fact that alcohol doesn’t freeze.  Unfortunately, I was not in my own boat, and therefore not in control of the situation.  My fishing buddy took me across the lake at 200 mph,  right at daylight.  Our conversation went something like this:  Me - “BURR  - dang it!  S-S-S-low down!”   Friend -”Kain’t.  The fish are on the move and so are we.”   Colder Me - “I forgot my hat and gloves.”  Pitiless friend - “Sorry,  gotta go. “  Colder, More Pitiful Me - “I got a brain freeze.”   Meaner, Soon-to-be-Ex, Friend - “Your feet should be froze. Where are your socks?”  Colder, Madder Me - “Don’t wear socks unless someboby dies.”  Former Friend - “As cold as you look you could be next to go.”  Numb, Frozen Me - “Maybe I should have worn socks.”

We finally get to the first spot and ease our way in.  He opens a box to get our frozen plastic lures out  (new fun fact: there is a certain point at which those flexible plastic lures become frozen and inflexible.  When they’re like this, they don’t fish right.  You have to thaw them by placing them on the warmest spot on your body you can find.  Use your imagination and you’ll figure out why I was really unhappy by the time I had my lure flexible enough to hook it and throw it in the water).  As I look across the deck to see what my buddy is doing while I’m trying to thaw out my lure, I happen to glance back into the storage and low and behold! there sits a face shield!   For all you non-fishin persons, this is a device you wear on cold days to protect your face and ears - it’s kinda like the front half of a full-facemask motorcycle helmet.  I point at it disbelievingly and ask him why he didn’t give it to me at the beginning and guess what?  He forgot about it until just now when he saw it.  Thanks dude.  In desperation I pull out my lighter and try to warm my hands  as my usual warm spots have been sacrificed to warm the bait, making them too cold to warm my hands enough to make my first cast.  As I try not to set my fingers on fire, I watch while my partner is undressing layer by layer.  First off come the gloves, then the knit hat and matching jacket.  Off come the parka and ski pants.  He’s sweating and panting by now and still has on several more layers.  I am not happy. I am usually treated to a similar lose-the-layers routine by my wife when she’s fishing in cold weather.   She starts off sporting what I call her “Michelin Man” look when it’s cold, but at least she makes sure I’m warm too.  And she looks a darn sight cuter stripping all of those clothes off than my former buddy. 

After all this you would think the fish would be biting and this would make up for all the discomfort but NOOOOOO!The wind kicked in and the front hit and the fish got blown outta the lake and sat around the fire at the lodge while I froze my butt off.  We threw everything in the boat and didn’t get a tap.  The weaker-constitutioned so-called fishermen tell you don’t fish during a front, but as a true bass angler, I say anytime, all the time, and for a long time is the best time to fish.  I have fished when it was sleeting so hard we had to hide in the dry storage because it was cutting our skin so much.  Compared to that,  this was great!  Wonderful!  It certainly won’t be the last time I will be out there in bad weather.  For more than a few reasons, I hope the wife is along next time - I’ll tell her I missed her and sigh long-sufferingly while she lays out my clothes for our trip. 

Tournament fishing may not be for the faint-hearted, but Bass Fishing is a sport for everyone!  See ya on the lake!

For today Iquit.

When I was a kid, my grandmother and I were poor. The only “presents” I ever received were clothes, and I got very few of those. When I got old enough to make my own way in life I made a rule:  “No clothes for any holiday. Only tools and fishin’ stuff - for all occasions.”  This is a great rule, ’cause I get what I want. (Sometimes)  Some members of my family don’t seem to grasp the significance of this rule, or choose not to play along. They think that because I have enough tools to rebuild an 18-wheeler that I have enough. (Ha, I say)

If you’re like me you lend your tools out only to “trusted” friends and family members and they never find their way home.  I have decided that this just means that your tool has chosen a new home. It decides that the new toolbox condo is much comfier than the old toolbox apartment they were stored in- it’s given itself a tool upgrade.  I can only guess that the oiling, cleaning and polishing they receive elsewhere is better than being stored dirty. To each his own. The screwdrivers are the worst defectors. Don’t they know that they’re supposed to be flexible about their uses? A screwdriver is the most multi-use tool available. Just because I use their points for prying and hammer on their handles doesn’t mean they should run away to places unknown.  Everytime I need one for a specific job it’s never around.  I would accuse my wife of loaning them to our kids (that’s what she does with everything else we have), but they’re definitely not mechanically inclined. At least the kids get the intent of my “tools and tackle” rule and keep replacing missing tools. Never in time for the job at hand, but eventually.

Now fishing equipment is another matter altogether. Again, everyone seems to think that there’s not a rod, reel, lure, hook, or worm that I don’t already have.  I don’t know why they think that just because I had to buy an entire shed to store my fishing equipment in that I have enough stuff. That’s just not so! If you’ve ever fished, you know how gung-ho all baits are. They LOVE their jobs. Throw anything in the water with a hook on it, including a bare hook, and it will grab stumps, grass, rocks  -anything to anchor itself, snap your line and stay in the water. The water is its home - it wants to stay there!  If the line hasn’t snapped your first impulse is to get your lure retriever and run it down the line and …yep! now they’re both stuck. Thirty dollars and change down the drain. Add two more items to the gift “wish list”. 

Reels are a whole ‘nother issue.  Somewhere in the reel rulebook it says that you have to take them apart and clean them on somewhat of a regular basis. Any “good” mechanic knows that when you take something apart and put it back together there are going to be spare parts left over. For some reason this never seems to work well with these items. As a reel (real?)  mechanic, you can’t walk into a fishing shop with what looks like a reel and a bag of spare parts and not expect a little ribbing. At my local shop they have gotten to where they not only laugh - they take pictures for their “Reel Rapist of the Month” competition - a title you don’t want to hold for several years running.  The good news is that if you do hold this title, you get a lifetime ten percent discount on reel repair. I now am up to a forty percent discount. Six more yearly titles and all my reel repairs are free. I just send in the kids with the reels now.

Rods, however, are by far the most important of all fishing items.  I find it interesting that you can’t use a reel without them, but you can use a rod without a reel.  Just tie the line to the rod tip and keep fishin’. I don’t know why, but all of my rods seem to have a death wish. When I flip the trolling motor over the front of the boat, six rods dive off with it.  I spend the rest of the day trying to fish up my rods with a DD-22 crankbait. I figure if I catch a few bass and at least three rods it’s a break-even situation as far as my fishing day has gone.  On the fishing deck, my rods seem to move around to where they are most in the way. Invariably, I’ve got a biggun’ hooked and fighting it back to the boat.  I move around the boat, keeping the fish out of the big motor in the back, I hear a pop, but keep moving. Pop! I move back to the front of the boat, keeping the fish out of the trolling motor prop, I hear another pop but keep cranking, the fish is still on!  “Man this fish is huge, get the net, babe.” I hear another pop as my wife nets the fish. It’s the fish of a lifetime! A surefire money-winning fish. High-fives, and if you fish with your wife, big hugs-and-kisses, all around!  (Warning, if you fish with a buddy, don’t try the last part.)  Anyway, after carefully removing the hook and gently, but reverently placing the beauty in the livewell, I grab up my rod to make the next cast. Oh crap, my one-piece medium heavy fast action rod is now a three-piece “warranty-doesn’t-cover-it-because-you-stepped-on-it” tomato plant stake.  Not just three tomato plant stakes, but nine!  Yes, the three rods you fished out of the lake yesterday have given their lives (or at least their backbones) in remorse for their lost friends.  I sit down and tear up.  I think to myself that at least I have an hourly winner, so I can replace my stuff.  When I tell my wife this rationalization, she brings reality cruelly to light.  “Honey, you lost about $5000 worth of equipment in two days.  The best you can do on an hourly prize is $500.  You’re in the hole $4500.”  Oh well.

For today I quit

I’ve been off the pooter for a couple of days because someone changed a password. Not me. I think it was the adult on the site as punishment. “What for,” you ask?  Well, I think it’s because she’s coming down with something. Cause I get to go fishing this next week  to pre-fish our first tourney.Now I won’t say she gets upset when I go by myself but I have experienced the painful silence and a glimpse of not-well-hidden quivering lower lip and the I’ll-be-brave tears as she waves me off of a morning when I’m leaving without her.  I can’t seem to get her to understand her physical condition.  Okay that was B.S. , she does understand - she just doesn’t want to give in to it.  She works really hard to just be able to fish once in a while. But the time has arrived for us to get after it. Our first team tournament is on February 14, 2009, at Lake Richland Chambers.  The Bass Champs North Texas Team Trail 2009 fishing season begins. The honey thinks it’s really appropriate that we are fishing together as a team on Valentine’s Day. How sweet. I do kinda feel sorry for the other guys going out to fish that day without their sweeties.  I imagine it’ll take ‘em until next Valentine’s Day to make it up. I am often told how lucky I am that my sweetie wants to fish with me.  By her.  Actually that was one thing I was smart enough to figure out on my own.  I know I’m lucky.  In many ways, but especially with the wanting-to-fish thing. Poor baby is afflicted with an age-old disease known to anglers everywhere - Fish Envy. That can be either the type of illness brought on when you want to go fishing everytime someone else does and you don’t get to go.  Interesting is that there is another form of the disease that makes you sick everytime someone else either catches a fish and you don’t, or catches a bigger fish than you do.  It is a wide-spread disease, with a peak-occurance in the spring, with many variations of the illness.  In my wife’s case, it always comes on quick-like.  She’s pretty much fine until it’s time for me to walk out the door, then it hits her, and she comes down with a severe acute case of the Fish Envy.

Acting like I’m oblivious to the coming trauma (drama?), I’ve spent the whole day re-rigging our reels.  Like any good fisherman, I pulled off all the old line, cleaned and serviced them all over the off-season.  Sitting out in the garage, spooling reel after reel with line, my mind starts to wander, as it often does. Thinking along the lines of fishing lines, I have often wondered -  why there are so many lines? You know - Braid, Mono, Flouro, Hybrid, Thin, Thick, Green, Yellow, Red, Blue, Neon, and my personal favorite - Moss Green.  Who came up with all this stuff ? When I was a kid there was one type of line.  STRING!! You fished for fish with it.  It was so simple then.  I’d get fish to fry and eat.  Having something to eat made it so I could go to work to buy more string to catch more fish to eat.  Simple. Now you have a certain type of line to catch a specific fish.  I don’t dare get caught using mono to catch a catfish or carp.  I’m not sure why I can’t do that, except I guess the other fishermen would laugh at me.  Or worse, someone will turn you in and you loose your ability to purchase more. It’s part of the fine print on your fishing license.  I think there’s a federal department over even the state Fish and Game guys to crack down on offenders. Should you screw up and catch a perch on braid there is a chance of prison time.  Ignorance is no excuse. This is serious business.  They skip right past the fining and go straight for the jailing - or hanging if you live in Texas.  You must be extremely careful to catch the right fish for the line design.

Now that I’m an official published blobber, I worry about my readers.  Hate mail used to be called poison pen letters. I don’t know what the equivalent sent from a computer keyboard over the Internet is called.  It’s probably some form of keyboard karma, where if I get enough negative comments I get shocked by my keyboard when I try to reply to the reader’s rage.  My fellow anglers are really going to be suprised this year, however, with our new secret-weapon line.  No more worries for me about either computer torture or downright death from using the wrong type of line for the wrong conditions.  Terri and I will have an easier time this year cause we will have a new secret line that does it all.  With this super-special line you are able to catch any and all types of fish.  On a single line!  With no worries about federal marshalls coming and confiscating it and locking you up or anything. We got smart (and lucky) enough to get hooked up with a sponsor importing this incredible new line that’s absolutely magic. It’s so much in demand they can’t even keep it on their own shelves because the Big Boys’ Big Toys Store is buying them out by the case.  As soon as it’s safe, we’ll tell you what it is.  We wouldn’t want to be responsible for any injuries - like those stampeding women at Christmas buying the latest toys for their kids. Fisherpeople are better than that. I’ve never seen a bunch of anglers rushing through a bait shop trampling over each other to get the latest swim bait or jig.  We do the right thing and cut it off our buddy’s line when they’re not looking.  Just kidding.  No angler would ever steal to get a new lure. It’s part of the Angler’s Code of Conduct. It’s right there after never lying about the size or number of fish caught. Since stampeding and stealing are out, anglers conduct their business by trolling the Internet to find what they want before anybody else can get it.  Funny how bragging rights have changed to who found the latest, greatest fishing invention cheapest on the Internet.  I heard it’s another newly-discovered strain of Fish Envy.  It’s apparently the first known computer-to-human transmission of a computer virus.  Apparently the longer you spend either shopping for fishing stuff, or just playing around on the pooter you are more susceptible to transmission of the virus.  I don’t know why it afflicts anglers and not everyone else, but I suspect it has something to do with using the Net.

For today I quit.

We are now on the second consecutive day of trying to answer the question - “What do we do about shirts?”  You guys out there may be innocently thinking (as I stupidly did) “Wear them?”  With a woman involved (specifically my lovely, but obsessive wife) it could never be that simple.  To get everyone on the same page, I’ll tell ya’ll how the issue started in the first place.  You may have read in one of my previous blogs that my wife is very concerned (meaning obsessed) with having the “proper” clothes to wear for any occasion, be it a formal function or a sporting event - in this case professional tournament fishing and personal appearances.  In the fishing world, much like the NASCAR world, sponsors contribute to assist an angler throughout the tournament trail, in return for the angler helping to promote the sponsor’s products.  One of the more obvious ways that a fisherman or fisherwoman promotes his or her sponsor is in wearing clothing items emblazoned with all manner of gaudy logos, slogans and websites, in effect becoming a walking billboard.  Terri has been a little  behind the curve in getting things going for the bass fishing season, partly because we didn’t make the final decision on whether she was going to be able to join the WBT and fish the season this year until November when it was time to take the leap and put down our money and sign up online.  After that was accomplished on the appointed date, I sat down in my recliner with a sigh of relief, thinking “I’m glad that’s over”.  Now I could relax until February or March when it was time to fish.  This seemed to coincide with my wife revving her engines into high gear and getting down to the “business” of fishing. 

I had no idea there was so much work involved off the water.  Simple, ignorant man that I am, I thought that most of the work involved with tournament fishing happened out on a big bunch of water somewhere. In a boat. With a fishing rod in hand.  According to my wife, I am woefully ignorant as to where the hard work of fishing actually happens.  Apparently the busy place is in our bedroom.  Now normally if there’s a flurry of activity happening in our bedroom, you could say that I’m pretty much “up” for the adventure and more than willing to dive right in and do my share.  Not in this case.  Not after the eye-rolling, you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me, men-are-so-pitifully-ignorant, take a deep breath and sigh reaction I got from the little woman after asking the sixty-four thousand dollar question.  “You’ve signed up - what’s left to do?’  She points across  the bedroom at her stack of labelled file boxes as tall as I am, full of books, papers, file folder, maps, and basically more stuff about fishing than I ever knew existed. I sigh in disappointment, knowing that I am not about to get anything except a lecture that I could have done without.

I can always count on my wife to come through for me with a way-too-long-and-involved answer to any question I am careless enough to blurt out without thinking.  Here’s the gist (or list) of what all my wife informed me is involved before a hook is ever thrown in the water.  Number one - get sponsors.  I understood that, I just didn’t understand that it involved things like presentations and proposals. I didn’t know fishing involved boardrooms. After sponsors are business cards, promotional pictures, websites, interviews and personal appearances - and all that is before the fishing season even starts.  Add to that my wife’s idea of being “prepared” to fish. The preparedness involves hours of reading and researching, checking and fine-tuning all of the equipment, and finally, and apparently most importantly, being personally prepared - which equals dressing for the part.  After much discussion and more researching, Terri presented me with my “options” as far as in my capacity as professional bass caddy. Put simply, there were no options. As a good husband and bass caddy, I’ll just shut up and let her dress me like a pet or a baby doll and take it like a man.  Anything to keep her happy. But, oh no! Big Problem! Now it’s gonna take too long and she is going to have to make a personal appearance, and we are going to have to fish, all without being properly attired. Seeing my wife rapidly going into one of her panic meltdown modes, I quickly come up with what I think are several perfectly acceptable alternative plans, which she immediately shoots down in flames.  Apparently she has narrowed it down to three options: Printing, patching, or stitching, or some variation of mix and match. I keep thinking,  “they’re shirts - just shirts!”

 Well we are day two of buying, then printing, patching, or stiching shirts.  I can’t even figure out why any one of these could not just take care of it. As a man, any of these would do.  Here’s what I’m faced with. I can go with patches. Sew them on - I’m cute and ready to fish. Give me a pocket to put my smokes in, and I’m cookin’, sometimes literally. And if it has extra pockets to put the honey’s make-up in, we’re extra-specially good to go. Now the problem lies in getting this done quickly. This is beyond belief. You can’t get any of this done quickly anywhere.  As a man I can slap some silk screen on and go. Not so with the lady in my life. Color choice, fit and form also come into to play. Now I know she could put on a toe-sack and mark it with chalk and be beautiful. I honestly think she is trying to soop me up. I must match her in color - we are a team. The fit can be some what looser for me. Thank God for that, cause if not I would look like 10 lbs of catfish in a 2 lb vaccuum pack bag. Iknow she loves me cause she makes sure I look good in public, most of the time. But anyway this shirt thing is really getting to us both. Just when we adapt to the issue a new one pops up. We have actually bought shirts only to find they were not what we needed in the first place. I refuse to return items purchased. This means we are stacking more unwanted attire up for a garage sale in the near future. This will be a big and fat boy sale of useless fishing and hunting attire. Good deals all around. MAN! A thought just struck. Maybe we could use our camo shirts, sew on the patches and be able to blend into the trees along the bank so the fish can’t see us. Now there’s an arguement to go with.

For today I quit

I really hope that everyone noticed the background change on the blob page. That was the big issue last night, the choice became easy. The execution was the part that got my rear roasted.  Now, as I stated before, the webmaster was called and awakened, (well maybe, he did say he was in bed I hope sleep was all that was interrupted) the website is fixed anyway. But, back to the page. Look at the hills and the clouds. They are so pretty (not words I use often). But thats okay this time. What I need you to do is visulize  a man sitting in those clouds looking down on me.  A man of great power a man of great wisdom. Yes, My webmaster!  Hince froth known among all none geeks as “T MASTER”. The man who pulled my flaming butt from the pooter hell I stayed in all last night. The second coming of that Perot feller.  All computer fellers should beware for he may smoot you. This man is anonimious and shall remain so unless he grants permission to reviel his true identity.  He not only fixed the site but he made things easier for ME.  I can safely blob and not get too mad.  Now I can hopefully do this without getting a virus the CDC can’t cure. Maybe I could learn  how to text and e-mail and get on craig list, buy on e-bay, do face bookin. Now imagine the above mentioned ” T MASTER ” with a slight smile on his face shaking his head saying ” FOOLISH, FOOLISH MAN!!!

Enough for today, Oh crap I just hit spell check and got an error code , this #$@%^&^%^$$##%^  craptop is possessed.  Please ” T MASTER ” put on your POOTER SUIT and save me.

For today I quit

Tonight I am P.O.ed. I told you yesterday I am not pooter llitirate and I just had to go through all kinds of choices of web pages. I DON’T CARE. Just pick one and let’er fly. Show me what to hit and duck. But noooo, pick one don’t be a butt, you can at least pick one. She looked at 500 and knocked it down to 19 so pick one. Okay this one. No that doesn’t have all the stuff you wanted. Well cheese and rice, how about that one?  No it’s not the right color. Well Fiddle dee dee dog droppings. Okay baby, you pick the one and I’ll be fine with it. No really your wisdom is far beyond mine. You are colledge-educated and all. You did surgery on hundreds of human females-I just dated a few. Really,you are much smarter than me and much better looking too. DON’T YOU DARE PATRONIZE ME .DON’T YOU DARE WALK OUT OF HERE.( I return head down) We look at the rest and a choice is made. Download in progress. NOOO DON’T TOUCH!!!! Oh crap call the webmaster. Rod touched the pooter during download. Please help! Pooter guy can tell time too. It’s 10:45 he tells Terri. He will fix in the morning. If you don’t see this until then, oh well. I probably won’t need to assist for awhile now so ranting should be about it. Pooters are bad. They cause issues. I am a bass caddy. I am above this machine. God I hate this thing. I really see an accidental drowning off our boat this year. Ah poor HP laptop, I hated it well.

For today I quietly resign.

I am sorry for not blobin yesterday due to the computer feller workin on stuff. I’m so glad I don’t need to deal with all that technical stuff. We pay an eight year old to tutor me but all I can do is type. Dang kid.

I’m at the lake tonight and am as snug as a bug in a birds’  belly. I can smell the water and feel the sun on my bald head.  Ahhh, back to nature. (finally)

On a fab side we now have two confirmed sponsors. I refuse to expose them yet - BIG SURPRISE COMING.  Needless to say we are elastic. These folks are a huge part of our family and we intend to make em proud.

For today I quit

Note from the adult on the site:  In a less than one week blogging career, my husband has managed to offend both the dog lovers and the cat lovers and now has branched out to include fly fishermen.  That has to be some kind of record.  Yes, he actually meant to call the blog a  “blob” on purpose.  To clarify:  The Management of this Website is not responsible  for, nor does she necessarily agree with or condone, any of the opinions (rants) expressed within the blogs.  As I tell everyone - “Rod is an adult.”  In people years.  (I do love him - he sure keeps everything interesting!)

Terri “The Fishing Doc”

Okay, I give, dog and cat fishin may not be the best way to keep your skills up.  So, after hard thought I think I’ll try fly fishin.  I hear it’s relaxing but extremely hard to master.   Real finesse is necessary to catch and land your prey. I had Lasik a few years ago, so my eyes should be able to handle the size.  I know there is much to learn and surely lots and lots of new equipment to purchase.  As with any guy, that just makes taking up the sport more attractive.  I’ll need at least a new rod and reel (unsure what type), waders, a really small net, one of those little baskets and a hat with baby hooks stuck in it.  Since I don’t know of any fly shops around here I guess it’s off to Academy, I’ve heard they have everything you need to do any sport. I understand true fly-fishermen have supplies, including string and feathers -cause you have to tie your flies. This seems weird to me since I’ve never had to tie a bass up with feathers and such. Sounds rather kinky to me.  Oh well, in for a dime in for a dollar.  I also don’t understand the part of slingin’ the hook back and forth all the time.  Maybe the flies are so quick you have to keep movin’ to get a hit.  Seems as though you would get wore-out pretty quick.  Those folks must work out a lot.  (This may require more thought).  I do know that bass fishin’ is not near as demanding physically. (Thank God)  Yet another issue just struck me. Why do all fly fishin shows happen in beautiful babbling mountain streams?  Unless there is a dead carcass around:  where do the flies come from?  Maybe they shoot something when they get there.   Or maybe they carry road kill in that little wicker basket.  That would explain why the mountain roads are always so scenic; no dead animals. If  they do kill something, what licenses are required ?  Driving (for road killin’), hunting, fishin’ ,combo, or a special fly license?  I’ll check into that after I talk Terri into letting me spend the money on the equipment.  I’m sure she’ll go for it as she seems to hate flies on principle.  I’ll use that argument for sure.

Back to the attractant, I know I pull plenty of flies on a hot summer day after mowing the yard.  Maybe I should bottle and sell sweat attractant.  There seems to be a lot of attractants out there on the market, but I’ve never noticed any fly attractant.  Guess we bass fishermen thought of the whole attractant thing ourselves.  Maybe I really should help the ol’ fly fishermen out and let them in on our little secret.  I need to careful about just up and bottling my sweat, ’cause it could be the smell of freshly-mowed grass that’s such a sure-fire lure.  I’ll have Terri research that.  I don’t want to look foolish on this new undertaking.

On the dog and cat blob, I had some concerns about plant damage and the cost of replacing those plants.  With fly fishin’ that concern is not there.  I can use this logic to insure the purchase of above-mentioned equipment. (Yep, always plan guys) .  I’m estimating the cost of set-up is  somewhere between a thousand and ten thousand dollars. This depends on the size of the hat you have to buy.  I’m sure  after “discussing” it, Terri will tell me to get a 99-cent fly swatter and accomplish the same thing.  I do need some help.  What is the world record for flies?  And how do you mount ‘em after you catch em?

For today I quit.

When I wrote “Dog fishin’”,  I thought I would get a few responses, but man, I didn’t expect as many as I received.  Now really, I don’t think anyone would actually think that I would do that to a dog.  Now that I’ve thought about it, I truly think the whole procedure would work better with a cat.  They seem to be more agile and would produce more of a fight.  They also have the ability to climb back over the fence when you have an errant cast. Of course it’s hard to pull them back over if they get the ball.

I just had a brain storm. Remove the hooks from your favorite topwater frog or rat and this would be a more realistic setting for practicing topwater fishing.  And if you think about it, cats are much easier to net than Milly or Mudslide (the aforementioned 80 Lb. labs).  Dang, I wish I had a cat. 

Diana, I hope you read this because the situation that you encountered yesterday would have been perfect to try and catch the Siamese cat you were after.  Had I thought quickly enough, I could have loaned you a rod and reel, a topwater rat, and a net.  How did your cat-wrangling go anyway?  I’m a true believer in “work smarter not harder”.  You looked pretty funny squatted down, calling, “Here baby”, in your soft voice.  It would have been much easier on you to have the right equipment to catch that Trophy Siamese.  Better luck on your next wrangling expedition.

For today, I quit.