Shafts of light lit small holes in the early morning fog as we motored up river. Dan’s boat disappeared into the mist as I slowly followed. Heavy dew ran in small rivulets down the gunnels.
Dan and his guests continued on as I made my stop near a river bend. I began my ritual; pour some coffee, light a cigar and make a cast. The only sound I could hear was my sigh of relief to be on the Alabama River again.
Trees began to reveal their leaves of gold as the sun rose. I shrugged off my coat and cast again. I chucked as I “drove” my Road Runner around the sunken logs and limbs with my rod. A drop here, a rise there, a turn to the left, another drop and then a Crappie crushed the lure.
My “driving” would sometimes fail me and the lure would strike a limb. The hook on the original Road Runner is slightly under-tempered for a reason. A steady pull would free the lure from its hold. I’d simply re-bend the hook and continue fishing. While it only takes 10-pound line to do this on our 1/16th oz size lure; I prefer braided line for “combat fishing”.
After three more fish I made my way up river, to check on Dan’s progress. He and his friends Aleah and Romero had bagged ten keepers. They were spider-rigging with minnows. I continued to free cast and caught three more fish as we visited. The sun was pretty warm now and the Crappies* were sticking tight to the timber for shade.
We started to head back after I shot some photos. Dan lit up his Skeeter and raced in. I took my time and marked spots that were good to me this morning on the Hummingbird GPS.
We’re lucky to have such a beautiful fishery in our backyard and good friends to share them with. Blessings, -TJ
*I don’t agree with Webster’s Dictionary; I still think “Crappie” is plural.
I know it’s hard to believe that people want to take our right to fish away from us. Tennessee is about to vote about that God given right. Please visit: www.huntandfishtn.com for more information.