November 2004

Surface Stripers: Unlocking the Code

by JD on November 19, 2004

striper

“What ya after?” asked the crusty old bank angler after I launched my boat. 
I pointed out toward the center of the lake where, in the glassy calm of the morning, it was easy to see a quarter-acre sized school of striped bass crashing the surface.

 His face looked like a tattered piece of leather that had been chewed on at great length by a hound dog, but it brightened considerably upon receipt of my answer. He flashed me a grin only an orthodontist could love and then snickered.

 “Son, you can’t catch them striper bass… everybody’s been trying but they won’t hit cuz they’re spawnin’.”

Well, I knew that he was way off base because it was mid-October and stripers are spring spawners, but I didn’t let on. I told him I was going to give it a try anyway just for kicks. He nodded and wished me good luck – said I was going to need it.
[click to continue…]

{ 1 comment }

What Fishing’s REALLY About

by JD on November 12, 2004

Awhile back, I had a couple of characters in my boat that just didn’t get the true concept of fishing. Throughout the day, they sat with their arms crossed tightly across their chests, starting at their rod tips. The pair didn’t say two words to each other or me the entire day.

Within an hour, they both had furrowed brows and facial expressions that ranged from scowls to grimaces.

The bite was slow that day and their moods soured with each passing moment. All the while, I tried to get them to lighten up a little, to remember to enjoy the fact that they were not at work, but instead on a lovely stretch of river.

I tried pointing out the surrounding flora and fauna along the riverbanks, cracked a few jokes and busted out every funny antidote from previous trips I could remember. They didn’t even give me a sliver of a smile when I told my now-famous story about Chloe, the dead rat. Eventually, I exhausted my entire bag of tricks…but still, nothing. It was like having two granite boulders in my boat — each etched with Olympic-sized frowns on their faces .

I see this type of person every so often — the kind who doesn’t understand the point of going on a fishing trip.

[click to continue…]

{ 0 comments }