Sometimes, it only takes one swing of the rod…


Final night time as I used to be stepping into mattress, I made a decision that right now can be a very good day to go fishing. I wasn’t positive the place I’d go, however the concept of going to a river for smallmouth sort of appealed to me as I set my alarm and went to sleep.

Shut off the alarm this morning, however didn’t bounce proper as much as go fishing. I used to be nonetheless uncertain of the place I’d be headed, and needed to determine earlier than I loaded the suitable gear into the boat, a lot much less hook it up. Then once more, I might take every little thing, and be ready irrespective of the place I ended up. Realizing that an hour and a half trip to smallmouth nirvana was out of the query given my late begin, I thought-about my choices, and settled on Candlewood. It’s been fairly good to me this season to date, and the chances had been fairly good of getting a smallie or two within the combine. And yeah, I loaded every little thing. I’d be fishing solo, so I had loads of room for stuff I most likely wouldn’t contact, in addition to what I really wanted.

It was about 20 previous seven by the point I left residence, and work-bound visitors was heavy. Nonetheless, I used to be working a bit forward of expectations after I rolled previous exit 9. However half-way between there and exit 8, I discovered myself in a standstill visitors jam. Evidently, there was a serious accident someplace forward. Didn’t the identical factor occur to me on my approach to the Connecticut River just some days in the past? Can nobody drive within the morning anymore?

Launched the boat and idled out to my “can’t not fish it” rock. Realized that my hat and sun shades had been within the automobile. Made a couple of fruitless casts, and went again to the ramp for the hat and glasses. By the point I lastly left the no wake zone, it was after 9. If there was an early chunk, I’d missed it.

I made 4 fruitless stops within the normal Brookfield/Danbury space earlier than heading north. Couldn’t determine between the New Milford and Sherman arms. Lastly selected Sherman, based mostly on an sick based notion that the ski and wake maker visitors can be much less there.

Hit a load of stone partitions, foundations and such the place I’d dropped waypoints on earlier journeys. I received to set the hook precisely as soon as and that was on a fish which may’ve been a “keeper” but in addition may not have.

My telephone rang. It was outdated pal, Frankie Giner. I instructed him I used to be on C’wooden the fishing sucked. He stated he’d simply had an amazing weekend there. He shared a sample with me. I switched up and managed two extra tiny largemouth off Frank’s sample. Not what I hoped for in any respect.

As I used to be on the lookout for the subsequent spot that match Frankie’s sample (HIS sample, not mine, so I can’t actually share it) I came across a reasonably just lately fallen tree. It was nonetheless coated with leaves, each above and beneath the water. I by no means throw at a “inexperienced” tree. Effectively, possibly not by no means, however fairly near it. Undecided why, however I most all the time keep away from them. Nonetheless, it was proper there in entrance of me, and I nonetheless had an Ozmo rigged on a TitleShot head from my go to to Lakeville the opposite day. I took it out of the rod rack and made a solid on the tree.

It was shocked nearly to the purpose of being shocked after I felt a fish hit my Ozmo deep within the branches. Much more shocked after I swung and got here up heavy. Drag slipped like loopy on the hook set, and on each department the fish tried to wrap me round. However ultimately, I received it to the floor, eyeballed it at about 3#, and determined to swing it in.

I clamped my thumb down on the spool to maintain the drag from slipping after I swung it. The fish didn’t even clear the floor earlier than coming unbuttoned. My creature bait was utterly balled up on the hook, and the purpose was not even poking by the bait. I don’t imagine the fish was ever really hooked.

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Re-rigged my Oz, tightened the drag to the purpose of barely with the ability to pull a couple of inches of braid off the spool, and solid again to the tree. And received hit once more! I actually poured the coals to the hookset this time. Even with the tight drag, this fish took me deeper into the tree.

I believe dropping the primary fish out of the tree was nature’s approach of telling me my drag was approach too unfastened for what was to come back.

After what appeared like an eternity, however was most likely lower than a minute. I had the fish out of the branches and greenery. After I noticed it’s measurement, I actually received nervous. Not going to attempt to swing this one over the gunnel. Not even going for the lip land try. I went proper to the folding web, flipped it open, and after two unsuccessful passes, led the fish into it.

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My largest largemouth in a couple of years, and a brand new private greatest for Candlewood.

My eyeball weight as I introduced it aboard was “seven-plus.” I used to be pleasantly shocked when the Rapala scale stated 8-1. A pair fast pictures, and it was again within the water for her.

What had been a totally disappointing outing on C’wooden till 12:30 or so, went to fascinating on one solid to excellent on the subsequent!

I fished one other few spots, and hit some extra bushes with nothing to indicate for it. The wakemaker navy was out in drive early (particularly for a Tuesday) so it wasn’t lengthy earlier than I referred to as it quits and took a leisurely, if considerably bouncy, trip again to Lattins Touchdown.

After I received residence, one of many first issues I did was seize a gallon of water and verify the accuracy of the Rapala scale. It bounced from 8-5 to 8-6 a pair instances, earlier than selecting 8-6. A gallon of water weighs 8.33 kilos, which is a bit over 8-5. Throw in an oz. for the plastic jug, and it appears to be like like my scale was as near being proper on the cash as can fairly be hoped for.

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