Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Since I feel guilty about taking such outings when I could be home eating lunch productively in front of the computer, I always set a strict twenty-minute time limit to these mini-trips on the rare days when I take one. It's a nice way to get away from the computer for a few minutes and refresh the mind and soul.
It didn't disappoint. First cast, fish. Second cast, fish. Third cast, fish. A brief lull. Then another fish. And another. And another. A brief lull. Then another fish.
It almost looked like I knew what the hell I was doing. And then my alloted time was up and I was forced to leave a hot hole with only seven delicious crappie when I could have, should have, stayed and sacked them up. But then I would be forced to explain to my wife why I spent all afternoon fishing when I could have been home working on something, anything. Not like there's a dearth of that...yard work, that is.
Incidentally, I was only thirty, yes, thirty away from my limit. For reasons known only to...someone, Oklahoma's daily limit on crappie is 37. Not 35. Not 40. But 37. Don't ask me, it's that kind of state.
So I reluctantly turned away from the water and trudged back to the car. But I have to admit thus far I'm digging the warmwater flyrod action. Who knows, if I keep practicing holding my pinkie in the air as I cast I might make an angler of the fly yet...
Posted by Chad Love at 10:37 PM