Fish Tales: The Pull On The Line Is What Makes Fishing Special | CPT PPP Coverage

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A fog hovered over the lake, thin enough not to obscure the dragonflies bouncing off the water, but thick enough to serve as a respite from the rising temperatures that were just minutes away.

It was a cool morning, not by spring or fall standards, but in the midst of a July heatwave that extended into August and September. It had not rained on the lake in weeks, something that is becoming more normal each year, and it showed. The water was down maybe 18 inches, well past the amateur fix I had done last summer on the rotted drainpipe that had been there since the 1950s. By the time it would rain again that drop would have doubled.

That morning I was already awake and stirring when the alarm went off at 5:15. In reality, its only purpose was to make sure I was out the door in time to have the boat on the water at first light. When your mind is right about going fishing, or hunting, you do not need anything to wake you. Sleep the night before is anything but peaceful and steady.

It was a Sunday-quiet on the lake. It was too early for those headed to church to be on the road and the 18-wheelers that sometimes rumble by were probably off for the day. The only thing interrupting the silence was the occasional bullfrog and banjo frogs, and a few birds.

Fishing is something best done with a friend. The conversations fill the voids between catches and they can be wide-ranging from fishing rods, to past history with a certain stump, price of lumber, life. However, friendships could end with bad net work on a big fish.

Being the contrarian, I have become accustomed to the peacefulness of fishing alone. It allows my brain to wander and wonder. I think it is because the lake has become like like sitting in the den reading a book where I really do not want to be disturbed. And this was the perfect morning for it.

Like many things these days a lot of fishing has become competitive. I guess it is the replacement for taking fish home to eat. That’s Ok if fishermen enjoy that and gets them on the water, but I prefer my competition to be with myself and against the fish. Trying to figure out what color to use, what bait to use and how fast to fish it. Do I start in shallow water or work the stumps along the creek channel?

Unfortunately, too often the fish seems to win.

More than hunting, fishing brings out the little kid in the grown-up. Whether it is bass, crappie, catfish, peacock bass or saltwater species there is something, something special about every tick of the line, every hookset and every first look at a fish.

Sometimes I get lucky. I did catch a 10-pounder earlier in the summer. I knew it was a good fish because of its strength and the way it stayed down to make a run after taking the crankbait. It was not until it tired and I got control that I saw it was big, real big and the game switched from horsing the fish into the boat to don’t make a mistake.

Once it was back in the water all I could do was sit down for a minute. I knew it was time to go home.

This morning was like a lot of others when the temperatures turn hot. The fish become more reluctant to bite so it requires more concentration. Start bird watching and you are going to miss a fish. I caught a few smaller fish and a couple around two pounds. Then I threw at a stump sitting in about seven feet of water. The worm was still falling when I felt the jerk. It was the strongest pull of the morning, and the race was on trying to catch up as it was making a run toward the boat and open water.

In your mind it seems to take forever, but in real time I had the stretch out of the line in a matter of seconds and was hanging tight until the fish played out alongside the boat.

I lipped it and quickly pulled it in the boat. It weighed 3.6. Not huge, but seeing what comes up is the lure of fishing.