agelesssone
06-03-2014, 04:52 PM
I bummed a ride with Floatnfish this morning on JPP, lower end. We hit the water about 4:45 AM and started trolling umbrella rigs for stripers. For about 2 1/2 hours, we just enjoyed the boat ride and chit chat.
That was rudely interrupted by a monster hybrid slamming (barely noticed the rod bending more) the rod almost out of the rod holder. I beat Alex off of the rod so I could wrestle this behemoth (2 lbs.) to the boat, barely able to swing it in.
Being the he-man I am (insert Tarzan yell here) I did prevail and after much hand shaking and back slapping, (guffawing and giggling, plus knee slapping) picture taking (yeah, right) and congratulations (sniggle sniggle) all around, the behemoth was released to terrorize the next unsuspecting fisherman it deemed worthy of a battle royale!
Knowing that we had hit the apex of the morning and would unlikely surpass the aforementioned triumph, we decide to attack and harass smaller, less lethal quarry, namely, the comely crappie.
And attack them we did, with a furor and gusto, and long lipped Bandits, we snatched them from their watery lairs, sneered in their faces and wished them well as we returned them to the murky depths where they could ponder the error of their ways and nurse their sore lips and thank Neptune for their fortuitous release.
But, alas, the curse of the working man came upon us (Alex had to go to work) so we bid farewell and adieu to the good lake and vowed to come again and wreak havoc on the scaly beasts that lurk beneath the calm but deceptive waters.
Sunrise shall find agelesssone and aquaholic trolling the depths for the seemingly uncatchable striper, or hybrid, or stripper. (Haven't caught one of those for years!). Failing to find/catch/snag any of the above creatures, we shall resort to dragging crankbaits through known holdouts of the lowly crappie, as they, being dim of wit and short of memory, will most gladly impale themselves on the fast passing, wiggling imitation of a meal. They shall then be unceremoniously dragged by the lip (or whatever body part they attach to the hook) aboard the boat, to be judged as qualifying for a sedate trip on the good ship Crisco or deemed inferior fodder for a real fisherman.
(Hell, I just we catch sumthin'!!)
Report to follow on the morrow!
That was rudely interrupted by a monster hybrid slamming (barely noticed the rod bending more) the rod almost out of the rod holder. I beat Alex off of the rod so I could wrestle this behemoth (2 lbs.) to the boat, barely able to swing it in.
Being the he-man I am (insert Tarzan yell here) I did prevail and after much hand shaking and back slapping, (guffawing and giggling, plus knee slapping) picture taking (yeah, right) and congratulations (sniggle sniggle) all around, the behemoth was released to terrorize the next unsuspecting fisherman it deemed worthy of a battle royale!
Knowing that we had hit the apex of the morning and would unlikely surpass the aforementioned triumph, we decide to attack and harass smaller, less lethal quarry, namely, the comely crappie.
And attack them we did, with a furor and gusto, and long lipped Bandits, we snatched them from their watery lairs, sneered in their faces and wished them well as we returned them to the murky depths where they could ponder the error of their ways and nurse their sore lips and thank Neptune for their fortuitous release.
But, alas, the curse of the working man came upon us (Alex had to go to work) so we bid farewell and adieu to the good lake and vowed to come again and wreak havoc on the scaly beasts that lurk beneath the calm but deceptive waters.
Sunrise shall find agelesssone and aquaholic trolling the depths for the seemingly uncatchable striper, or hybrid, or stripper. (Haven't caught one of those for years!). Failing to find/catch/snag any of the above creatures, we shall resort to dragging crankbaits through known holdouts of the lowly crappie, as they, being dim of wit and short of memory, will most gladly impale themselves on the fast passing, wiggling imitation of a meal. They shall then be unceremoniously dragged by the lip (or whatever body part they attach to the hook) aboard the boat, to be judged as qualifying for a sedate trip on the good ship Crisco or deemed inferior fodder for a real fisherman.
(Hell, I just we catch sumthin'!!)
Report to follow on the morrow!