Today the weather forecast was for sunny skies and 71 degrees, mind you it is February 2. Choices had to be made today…was I gonna go to my group meeting at the VA, a fine bunch of men, but not a requirement for me to attend. Two Harley Davidson motorcycles are parked in my carport, I could ride one of them. Riding a Harley in February without having to be all bundle up, that would be cool. My third choice was to go fishing. Yeah I know, why would I want to go fishing, my luck has been nonexistent of late. Could it be that my love of fishing is stronger than my love of riding motorcycles or the need to be around friends? Maybe so. (Doubt my psychologist will ever understand my choice.Whoa, what am I saying? Of course she understands. She is the one that told me I would rather do things alone than with others due to my PTSD. I know better than to doubt Doc.)
When the fish get finicky and refuse to bite the fisherman’s concentration level must go up. Day dreaming about tomorrow or mired in the past ain’t gonna get it. I would think that all fisherman’s senses need to be attuned to what he was doing. I know that on occasion I have been in such a state of zen in my fishing that every cast went where it was directed. I could almost see the bottom of the lake or pond by the feel being transmitted to my hands by line and rod. Days like that don’t come very often for me anymore and I kinda dislike that, but it isn’t the end of the world. My happiness doesn’t rest on whether I catch fish or not, no not really. Don’t get me wrong, I wanna catch fish and a lot of them, but I am most grateful for the opportunity to fish. To be in God’s living room, admiring its beauty, while doing something I enjoy so much is what living is all about to me. So no matter if I catch a big ole bucket mouth or just a guppie. I am having fun. A guppie, maybe? But the dry spell has been broken.
February 1st, the start of a new month, was the day my fishing luck was gonna change.Notice I said luck. I now realize I have no skill in the art of fishing, nada, zip, nary a drop of skill. One of my ole fishing buddies, Fat Freddie G, and I went to Lake Hartwell to do some fishing today. Freddie has a 20ft+ Norris Craft boat with a 300HP Yamaha mounted on the back, The boat was loaded with thousands of dollars worth of baits, rods and reels, depth finders and of course an expert fisherman in the person of Fat Freddie G, Twenty five, thirty years ago Freddie and I fished a lot together and always had a good time. To say that Fred and I were competitive would be putting it mildly. We never fished for anything other than bragging rights, but that didn’t keep us from putting a lit cigarette against the others line if one had a big fish on or was catching more fish than the other. Our trips were always filled with plenty of laughter and today, twenty five years later was no different. Fred caugfht two Spots and one good striper and I never heard the end of it. We came by a gentleman fishing from a dock, so Freddie had to tell him how he had caught three fish and I had nothing. The only thing we could come with was that Fred was fishing with $17-$20 baits and I was using $3 baits.I told Fred next time I would take a Sharpie and put a price of $39.50 on all my baits to fool the fish, that way I would catch the most fish. Well anyway I started the month off with a goose egg, but I will keep plugging away.