07-02-2005, 04:13 AM
My dad and I got out to Utah lake today. Bright and early. When I talk early, I'm talking on the water at 4 A.M. Now that's what I call crazy. Anywho, we started out on Lincoln beach west of the harbor, past the no tresspassing signs and on one of the first rocky out cropings. The carp were rolling all over in there. I was wishing for my bow!! I chucked out a minnow and worm, my dad a minnow and carp. Not five minutes later while we were still setting up my dad's pole got a bite. He set the hook, and the pole bent pretty good. After sticking a bigger fish for about 10 seconds, the line systematically snapped. He cursed for like 5 minutes after that. The bite wasn't all that great after that. We got a few whites and mudders, but nothing to write home about. Finally, about 11, I got a bite that I liked. I set the hook and reeled in a 2# kitty cat. We fished that spot another hour in vain till it was finally crystal clear that the fish weren't going to turn on.
So we packed up and went over to the West Side. We drove around for a while looking for the Saratoga Boat Harbor. Finally we quit looking and went down an old road south of pelican point and onto the lake. When we got there we noticed these big floating patches of weeds all over the place. We figured, hey, what the heck, we'll still try it. I put on my shorts to wade in the water then went to find my sandals. They weren't there. So I had a decision: get my nice new hunting boots all dirty or go bare foot and probly get glass in my feet. Well, I chose the latter.[
] I luvs my huntin boots too much to subject them to that damage. I waded out to chest deep with my dad and we casted out. Five minutes later, I pulled in a white bass. Ten minutes after that I had another good hard bite. I let the line go slack, then set the hook when it went tight again. Immediatly my reel started to scream. I'd finally hooked a big channel. I turned to my dad and said "Hooper, I think we need a bigger net." We had this little dinky trout net with us, and I figured it wasn't even going to be able to cut it. Oh, how right I was. I finally got that big bugger's head up, and it wouldn't fit. My dad went to grab him and did indeed get him. For about five seconds. Then the fish thrashed, broke the line and got away from my dad. I was sick. That fish probly went 28" and a good 10#. I swear to all that's holly I'm getting 20# Berkly Big Game to replace my 6# Stren. We stuck around there sticking a white bass here and there, dodging the floating weeds, till finally we'd had enough. I walked back in, and wouldn't you know it? As soon as I got back on dry land I cut up my left foot pretty darn good. Ah well. It'll heal.
All in all this was a dang fun day. It's not very often that my dad and I get out fishing alone anymore. It used to be a weekly thing, but now my mom and brothers like to tag along. Not that I mind them, it's just that today I was actually able to fish instead of baiting hooks and taking fish off all day.
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So we packed up and went over to the West Side. We drove around for a while looking for the Saratoga Boat Harbor. Finally we quit looking and went down an old road south of pelican point and onto the lake. When we got there we noticed these big floating patches of weeds all over the place. We figured, hey, what the heck, we'll still try it. I put on my shorts to wade in the water then went to find my sandals. They weren't there. So I had a decision: get my nice new hunting boots all dirty or go bare foot and probly get glass in my feet. Well, I chose the latter.[
] I luvs my huntin boots too much to subject them to that damage. I waded out to chest deep with my dad and we casted out. Five minutes later, I pulled in a white bass. Ten minutes after that I had another good hard bite. I let the line go slack, then set the hook when it went tight again. Immediatly my reel started to scream. I'd finally hooked a big channel. I turned to my dad and said "Hooper, I think we need a bigger net." We had this little dinky trout net with us, and I figured it wasn't even going to be able to cut it. Oh, how right I was. I finally got that big bugger's head up, and it wouldn't fit. My dad went to grab him and did indeed get him. For about five seconds. Then the fish thrashed, broke the line and got away from my dad. I was sick. That fish probly went 28" and a good 10#. I swear to all that's holly I'm getting 20# Berkly Big Game to replace my 6# Stren. We stuck around there sticking a white bass here and there, dodging the floating weeds, till finally we'd had enough. I walked back in, and wouldn't you know it? As soon as I got back on dry land I cut up my left foot pretty darn good. Ah well. It'll heal. All in all this was a dang fun day. It's not very often that my dad and I get out fishing alone anymore. It used to be a weekly thing, but now my mom and brothers like to tag along. Not that I mind them, it's just that today I was actually able to fish instead of baiting hooks and taking fish off all day.
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