We spent yesterday afternoon on the banks of the river with our rods in the water and the fish dining on our bait. It turns out I don't give fish as much credit as they deserve. I used to think when they bite the bait, you (I) got to catch the fish. Done deal. Reel them them, Sparky. Turns out these fish have gotten smarter. The ones yesterday had a technique. Nibble once to taste. Nibble twice to get my attention. Nibble a third time to tease me. Bite the bait and swim like mad to get away. Smart little suckers. I am happy to say that I did catch one big enough that it will make a meal.
My grandfather is my fishing hero, though. He is pro. Hand that man a fishing rod and watch his patience level increase to the sky. He calmly perches in his seat, intensely staring at the tip of the rod, waiting for the game to start. Suddenly in a flurry of activity his rod would be up and reeling in. He caught the most. Three that came home. Three that stayed. There is no "one that got away" story from this trip.
No comments:
Post a Comment