I normally don’t make it a habit of fishing around other anglers, but with all the rain we’ve been getting, my choices for where to fish have been drastically cut down. Last night I fished a spot on the Mohawk where a nice sandbar stretches out from shore, which let’s me get within casting distance of the dropoff. There are some other key features at this particular spot, features that make it absolutely dynamite. I’d tell you about them, but as much as I like ya, I don’t want to see you standing in my spot when I get there.
Anyways, this spot gets it’s fair share of bait dunkers, and last night was no exception. I was standing behind my car tying on the crayfish muddler pictured above, when a newer Cadillac pulls up next to me. We exchanged pleasantries, and I made my way down to the bar to drown my sorrows.
A few hours earlier, I learned that a friend had taken his own life. He wasn’t a friend in the traditional sense. In fact, I’d never meet him in person. I only knew him through his posts on The Drake Magazine’s message board.
As I stood at the tip of the sand bar, waist deep in chocolate milk, I looked at the beams of light piercing the dark clouds above me, and couldn’t help but ask the questions we all ask ourselves when something like that happens. Then the bait dunker hooked up with an undersized smallie and stuck it on a stringer. My thoughts shifted away from a tragedy, to wondering why a guy who can afford a new Cadillac needs to keep undersized fish. “Maybe that’s how he can afford the Caddy” I mused.
1 Response
He paid for a fishing license. The Caddy was bought on credit. My condolences.
Posted on June 23rd, 2009 at 1:00 pm
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