(insert fish pun here)
This weekend I'm embarking on an exotic safari in search of that most most rare & noble beast: the channel catfish. I've been seeing good things in the fish reports over in Big Bear, & was able to cajole my girlfriend into coming along with me for a day. Now, when I learned to fish, it was at Kern River, & we were after trout. And since then it's been mainly trout & sometimes a vain attempt to land a bass. But after reading about the catfish record being broken repeatedly as of late, guess who wants a piece of the action.
I'm a little concerned that my light rig won't hold up if I sink a 6-8 lb cat but then that's probably getting a little ahead of myself. I upgraded my line to some rugged Trilene that can be used for both trout & cats, & hopefully won't get left behind trailing out of some raibow trouts maw. And, not being inclined to face the fish on a level playing field, I splurged & picked up some Crave Gravy, which you use to soak the catfish biscuits...apparently this stuff has both strong food scent & strong pheremone scent. Sounds like a perverse combination to me, but then catfish eat all kinds of things I'd send back to the kitchen.
Now some people, caught up in the disco-esque fad of fly-fishing, may look down their polarized sunglasses at me, but I for one am all in favor of taking advantage of the leaps & bounds in scientific research. Powerbait, Crave Gravy, why not exert some authority over our fishy friends? Yeah, yeah, I don't make my own lures & dig up my own nightcrawlers. I also don't grind up the corn to make my own tortillas. You know who does, though, is La Parilla, down on Sunset near the Silverlake Lounge. What a great place, except for the house "band", aka 2 or 3 mariachis that look more like Tijuana car salesman, who won;t hesistate to stand at your table & badger you to pay 'em 5 bucks for a song.
What the hell was I talking about? Oh yeah...fishing. If I don't come back with something in my cooler besides melted ice & empty beer cans there's gonna be trouble. Trouble! Maybe if I make a small but thoughtful sacrifice to the gods of fishing...don;t think I'm above trying something like that, ask around & they'll tell you, I've done goofier shit without thinking twice.
I'm a little concerned that my light rig won't hold up if I sink a 6-8 lb cat but then that's probably getting a little ahead of myself. I upgraded my line to some rugged Trilene that can be used for both trout & cats, & hopefully won't get left behind trailing out of some raibow trouts maw. And, not being inclined to face the fish on a level playing field, I splurged & picked up some Crave Gravy, which you use to soak the catfish biscuits...apparently this stuff has both strong food scent & strong pheremone scent. Sounds like a perverse combination to me, but then catfish eat all kinds of things I'd send back to the kitchen.
Now some people, caught up in the disco-esque fad of fly-fishing, may look down their polarized sunglasses at me, but I for one am all in favor of taking advantage of the leaps & bounds in scientific research. Powerbait, Crave Gravy, why not exert some authority over our fishy friends? Yeah, yeah, I don't make my own lures & dig up my own nightcrawlers. I also don't grind up the corn to make my own tortillas. You know who does, though, is La Parilla, down on Sunset near the Silverlake Lounge. What a great place, except for the house "band", aka 2 or 3 mariachis that look more like Tijuana car salesman, who won;t hesistate to stand at your table & badger you to pay 'em 5 bucks for a song.
What the hell was I talking about? Oh yeah...fishing. If I don't come back with something in my cooler besides melted ice & empty beer cans there's gonna be trouble. Trouble! Maybe if I make a small but thoughtful sacrifice to the gods of fishing...don;t think I'm above trying something like that, ask around & they'll tell you, I've done goofier shit without thinking twice.
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