I felt energetic & also lucky as I headed out this morning in search of some piscatorial pursuits. It was nice weather when I arrived on the water. I tied on a Lirpa Sloof lure and spit on it for good luck. The wind catches the first cast and the lure sails more than half way across the lake.
My reel is acting a bit goofy but I finally manage to get the bail engaged and start my retrieve. The lure is just under the surface when something very large boils in the vicinity of my lure. What happens next is sort of in slow motion. The commotion near my lure has me slightly dazed. Then instinctively I set the hook. My line goes tight. Then my drag starts singing. Line is peeling out from my reel. I blindly check the drag with my thumb. The drag is set fairly tight.
I start to reel for no other reason that to gain back some line. It is fruitless. Line keeps flying off the reel. I turn the reel handle but it does no good. I keep the rod tip up to put pressure on what ever has a hold of my lure. Now I see that the reel is losing line fast. I do the only thing I know how to do. I step up the bank a bit then I go running off in the direction of my lure.
I can now start to see some silver which means I have very little line left on the reel. I can't believe that I'm going to get spooled if I don't gain some line back fast. Then it happens....
If things seemed like time has slowed down then it was about to get really interesting. What ever is tugging on the line has a change of plans and heads skywards. I see a flash of silver as the fish leaps into the air. It comes back to the lake with an enormous splash. I've now gaining a small cheering section around me. I reel like a man possessed. I start to gain back some line. I'm still double timing it around the lake.
I don't watch where I'm going and I step into a wet hole. And I've lost my shoe. Ain't nobody got time to be worried about no lost shoe. I rear back and put some pressure on the rod. We are at some sort of stalemate. I can at least stop moving around. I watch my line do laps around the lake.
After what is probably a few minutes, but seems longer, I start to steadily gain back line. What ever I have hooked is tiring. The beast from Chernobyl starts to come into the shallower water by the bank. The crowd is growing and making noise but I can't really hear them.
Someone from the crowd offers to net the fish for me. I politely decline since I don't want anyone else mucking this up for me. I've come this far, I can finish the deal. Each time I get the fish in shallow the pulling begins all over again. After about a half dozen attempts I have the fish sideways. I don't think anyone has a net large enough for this monster.
Since my feet are already wet, I step into the water. I slide my left hand under the fish's gill. I try to lift it but it's too big and awkward. My shoed foot slips a bit. In an attempt to land this creature, I toss the pole to the bank and reach down with both hands and hurl the fish up the bank.
I examine my lure and see that only 1 of the rear treble hooks is in the soft part of the mouth. A few more tugs and the fish would have probably gotten off.
I try to weigh the fish but the scale bottoms out at the 14 pound mark. The state record rainbow trout is 14 pounds 3 ounces caught in 1987. I get the fish in a cooler and head it over to the bait and tackle store. Now all that needs to be done is have the scale certified to see if I have the new state record fish. And I need to go and change my shoes.
My reel is acting a bit goofy but I finally manage to get the bail engaged and start my retrieve. The lure is just under the surface when something very large boils in the vicinity of my lure. What happens next is sort of in slow motion. The commotion near my lure has me slightly dazed. Then instinctively I set the hook. My line goes tight. Then my drag starts singing. Line is peeling out from my reel. I blindly check the drag with my thumb. The drag is set fairly tight.
I start to reel for no other reason that to gain back some line. It is fruitless. Line keeps flying off the reel. I turn the reel handle but it does no good. I keep the rod tip up to put pressure on what ever has a hold of my lure. Now I see that the reel is losing line fast. I do the only thing I know how to do. I step up the bank a bit then I go running off in the direction of my lure.
I can now start to see some silver which means I have very little line left on the reel. I can't believe that I'm going to get spooled if I don't gain some line back fast. Then it happens....
If things seemed like time has slowed down then it was about to get really interesting. What ever is tugging on the line has a change of plans and heads skywards. I see a flash of silver as the fish leaps into the air. It comes back to the lake with an enormous splash. I've now gaining a small cheering section around me. I reel like a man possessed. I start to gain back some line. I'm still double timing it around the lake.
I don't watch where I'm going and I step into a wet hole. And I've lost my shoe. Ain't nobody got time to be worried about no lost shoe. I rear back and put some pressure on the rod. We are at some sort of stalemate. I can at least stop moving around. I watch my line do laps around the lake.
After what is probably a few minutes, but seems longer, I start to steadily gain back line. What ever I have hooked is tiring. The beast from Chernobyl starts to come into the shallower water by the bank. The crowd is growing and making noise but I can't really hear them.
Someone from the crowd offers to net the fish for me. I politely decline since I don't want anyone else mucking this up for me. I've come this far, I can finish the deal. Each time I get the fish in shallow the pulling begins all over again. After about a half dozen attempts I have the fish sideways. I don't think anyone has a net large enough for this monster.
Since my feet are already wet, I step into the water. I slide my left hand under the fish's gill. I try to lift it but it's too big and awkward. My shoed foot slips a bit. In an attempt to land this creature, I toss the pole to the bank and reach down with both hands and hurl the fish up the bank.
I examine my lure and see that only 1 of the rear treble hooks is in the soft part of the mouth. A few more tugs and the fish would have probably gotten off.
I try to weigh the fish but the scale bottoms out at the 14 pound mark. The state record rainbow trout is 14 pounds 3 ounces caught in 1987. I get the fish in a cooler and head it over to the bait and tackle store. Now all that needs to be done is have the scale certified to see if I have the new state record fish. And I need to go and change my shoes.
