First Lines: 2014

Rule #5.  Never wear your pants inside your boots, unless they're rubber.  Your boots, not your pants--if your pants are rubber, no rule is going to help you.

I am grateful to be able to start another new year of fishing!

Thursday:  5/14/2014

I'm not sure you can tell how wet my boot is in this picture, but today was a hot, humid, and a couple of times--VERY WET-day.

In a Zen-like coincidence, though I didn't know it, the good people of the Muncie Sanitation District had been dismantling the ugly-ass huge black diversion tubes from the side of the White River.  I had been having an internal aesthetic debate with myself about whether I could fish the bank while walking by those unsightly things.  In the end, I decided to avoid them altogether and to fish the bank close to where I used to live on Light Street.  Avoidance.  Zen.

I had the rod and reel my mom and step-dad bought for me last year, and packed a small tackle box with two or three very small crankbaits, a tiny twist-tail grub, a Kelly's Fire-Tail pre-rigged 4-inch Pier Boy worm, a few Yum stick-type worms.  Before I left, I stirred up some strong instant coffee in my 16-oz. "Bubba" drinking cup and dropped a handful of ice cubes in with it.  I know.  It's disgusting.  I'm a hillbilly, what can I say?

Before my first cast of the season, as is my custom, I said a prayer for Grandpa B--, a late, great fishing buddy.  This year, I also added Mr. G--, one of the best fishermen I've ever known, and like Grandpa B--, a great man.

I spent an hour or so fishing about the 150 yards upstream from where I parked across from Ontario Corp.  The first good bite I had was just below my feet--it was a Smallmouth Bass and probably would have gone 1 1/2--2 pounds.  It struck a 4 inch YUM worm, dark green with red speckles, rigged on a circle hook that was probably undersized or I might have caught him.  (Also, it scared the hell out of me--not that that would have anything to do with my losing him!)

The water was brownish-green.  We've been having some rain, so while the river isn't flooded, I couldn't see to the bottom of the stream beyond about two feet from the bank.  The skies were alternately bright blue and almost scary dark gray.  Because of the water color, then, I chose the darkest green worm in my box.

Though I did have the one good bite on the YUM worm, and maybe a couple of nibbles, after I'd fished the distance I'd set for myself, I went back to my starting point and tried the darkest little crankbait I had.  I caught the first of the Rock Bass almost immediately, and didn't catch the next until the second downpour.  I felt sufficiently satisfied by that time, so, very soggy and happy, I quit and walked back to the truck, listening to passing drivers questioning my choices, if not my sanity!