Yesterday I woke up extremely early in order to get to the lake at a decent time and fish while it was still somewhat tolerable since the weather on average here as been in the triple digits basically the entire freaking summer, but of course, we got rained out. So we decided to try again today, and as I was hopeful for, it worked out.
We ate a super early breakfast of biscuits and gravy with scrambled eggs before we loaded up in my dad's truck and headed out to Winfield lake. It was actually the first time I had been to Winfield lake despite living so close to it for all these years. My dad was trying to take us to a special part of the lake and at one point he realized that he still had to drive around the majority of the lake to get there and we had already been driving for roughly twenty minutes, though it seemed longer than that due to the fact we were facing the rising sun and couldn't see the winding dirt road the majority of the time so we had to stop and stick our heads out of the truck to figure out where exactly we were driving.
We ended up on one of three docks near the boat ramps. It was a bit sketchy to begin with because although the dock looked really sturdy there were quite a few waves and when you've got both hands full with fishing poles, tackle and bait leaving you stranded with no way to hold onto the railing, PLUS having poor balance (still regaining my balance since I had my hip replacement) it seemed awful sketchy to me. Eventually though I got down the incline of the dock ramp and was down on the actual dock that was floating. This particular dock was the only one that had safety bars around it, which I was quite thankful for because I hate docks to begin with because of how they rock in the water, and I've always feared that I was loose my balance and step off into the water, and when you don't know how to swim, it's a really scary thought.
I didn't waste a moment before I got my fishing pole all ready and casted it out. I was doing quite fine until I was reeling in my line after it had moved off course and towards the bank...and it got hung up in the rocks. It had already happened to me a few times before this, and I'm pretty much a master at unhooking lines from things but I tried for a good five to ten minutes and couldn't get the line to come free. So I was left with my only last hope. Just to cut the line and start fresh. So I cut the line, something I hate to do, especially since it was a brand spanking new lure I had put on my pole and I had only fished with it once before today.
I put new tackle on and casted out again. At this time, my dad went up to pay our day fee for the lake, since no one was in the office when we got there. He left me with both of our poles in the water, obviously he felt comfortable letting me watch after his very expensive fishing pole that even though he doesn't particularly care for because it's an open faced reel, he trusted me with it. I mean, I would hope so considering he's been taking me fishing since I was five. Everything was going just fine until I saw his pole start moving, and thankfully then I had my line in and I threw my pole down on the dock and grabbed my dad's pole. I got excited over a fish that was just playing with me and nibbling the worm off the hook slowly.
I casted out my dad's pole again, and deciding it wasn't a good cast I went to reel it in, but of course, it got hung up on those damn rocks. So I stood there, on the dock, looking like a fool in front of the people putting their boats in as I tried with all my might to unhook the line. Eventually when my dad made it back down to the dock I handed the pole over to him so he could try and get it loose. He eventually had to cut the line as well.
Nothing much happened for a couple of hours after that. My dad and I just sat there on the dock watching our poles and listening to the boaters put their boats into the water and watch them as they took off across the lake. I have to admit I was super jealous of them, I miss going boating, though I've never really gone boating often, I enjoy a nice boat ride every once in a while at the lake. It was nice to just sit there on the dock with it moving on top of the water, it was rather soothing. And the thing I love about fishing is that it calms me and basically de-stresses me. And I definitely needed that.
Eventually though, I had to get up and go walk around up on the shore for a bit and stretch my hip muscles so I pulled my line in. By this time, my dad had forcefully put a bobber on my line (I'm 17 and I still can't chose what I want to fish with. *pouts*), I leaned my pole against railing so I could stand up. I hadn't really realized that my worm was still in the water and what do you know, I started getting a tug at the end of my pole. I pulled it up slowly and then put it back down and it happened again. Pulled it up once more and put it back down, another tug, pulled it up and the worm was gone. No fish to be found.
Needless to say I was a bit mad because I A) lost a worm and B) didn't get the fish. So after I went and walked around for a bit I came back to the dock and baited up again, something my dad hadn't really seen me do EVER. I mean, it took me about 15 years to bait my own hook, but he hadn't seen me do it until today and he was kind of shocked but yet so proud of both me and him. We decided that the best bet we had was to try and catch perch.
So there we were, sitting on opposite ends of the dock with our lines barely over the side of the dock waiting for a perch to get our worm. I eventually caught a perch. It was on the small side though so we tossed him back. And as upsetting as I am to still admit it, that was the only thing we caught today. But it's okay, because like I said fishing calms me. And even if I don't catch anything, just the act of fishing is soothing. So I was alright with the one tiny perch that I caught.
