Delicious Anticipation

So, what makes me the most crazy on a fishing trip is that delicious anticipation before the first grab of the day. Watching the rhythmic pulse of a rid tip as a plug dives deep into a hole of chromers is an intense sensation.

My stomach gets nervous…almost queasy…as I stare at the tip, willing it to go down. The desire to see it double over is so strong…I can’t take it! Then, the tip hesitates or slightly dips as the lure hits a rock or a faster piece of current and my heart nearly jumps out of my chest.

This is killing me. I have to take a deep breath and look at something else for a minute. We’ve only been in the water 10 minutes and I’m already a wreck. Why do I torture myself so?

And then it happens.

The tip goes down once…twice…and then buries. There’s that unmistakable sound of a loaded road straining against the holder and braid coming off the reel in short, strong bursts…

The itch had been scratched but it’s insatiable. As soon as this fish is in the bag, I’m jonesing for the next one, uneasily watching tips throb, living on that sweet drug that is anticipation…