This afternoon I didn't feel the least bit like going fishing. The thought of fishing didn't enter my mind...until the power went out. I sat for about half an hour, listening to my ears ringing, looking out the glass door at the river. There was no way of knowing how long the power would be out.
So, I asked my wife if she wanted to go fishing. She put down the battery powered e-book that she was playing a game on and smiled a big smile. We loaded up and walked down the bank and into the river.
I still didn't feel much like fishing as I was experiencing various physical issues at the moment - but it beat sitting in a deathly quiet house - and it was beautiful out. We had just come through three days of slow soaking rain with occasional thunder for sound effects. The temperature was a very cold 84 degrees. Sun was low and it was overcast, the light soft and gentle on the retinas.
Not feeling real froggy I opted for the closest fishing hole. It used to be a dandy, but after one long period of high water it had largely filled up with gravel, making it a so-so fishing hole. Most days you'd be lucky to catch a couple of small bluegills out of it. But it is a river and it is never the same river from moment to moment - or in other words, things are always changing in a river.
What changed this time was that a school of bass in the two pound range were in there, and they were biting. In about an hour I caught eight of those gorgeous hard fighting fish. The aches and pains I'd had when we waded up to that hole were gone, poof - no mas. Funny how that works.
It is a small hole and catching eight bass out of it is a spectacular event - and one that pretty well shuts all the fish in the hole down from biting - it has a limit that way as all small holes do. For all I know there may have only been eight bass in there anyway, because after numero-eighto there were no more bites.
This hole is beautiful, it is in a spot where the river narrows considerably so the current speeds up to quite a pace much much faster than the rest of the river. Crystal clear water, gravel bottom, large trees overhanging it as it is up against the bank. Maybe 150 feet long and 30 feet wide. Or less.
The bass were not only fighting hard but they were using that fast current to their advantage - and that fast current and my nine foot rod were also bringing those bass up and out of the water for some energetic tail dancing. Catching bass of that size, in that spot, in that clear water, in that current is a lot like catching trout in a mountain stream. Except warmer.
My wife left before I did, which is normal for us. I stayed a while, just me and Boo. Boo was trying like hell to retrieve the fish I was throwing back - I think that dog has gills inside somewhere because he can keep his head submerged for a long time when he wants to.
Later as I waded home and up the bank it struck me funny that I was happy about the power going out probably for the first time since I was a kid.
