That harsh snap in the water was all I needed to pull myself back into
the present moment. I could feel him fighting to break the line. The
second that he locked onto my crankbait, it all came back to me, like
riding a bike.
The silence around you is shattered by the sounds of
splashing and low grunts, and you enter into a tug-of-war
challenge with an opponent that you cannot see until you
have defeated them.
I knew the procedure: Go where the shad are, choose your lures wisely,
stay in the creeks – but,
I reeled and pulled and reeled and yanked until I had him
under control. Even as he broke the surface of the water,
he was still flailing and thrashing about. My mind was now
centrally focused on this lake, this day, and this fish. The
summer sun had left its mark on me, so I felt out of place
in the doorstep of the fall season, but I quickly regained
confidence and held my tackle box with fervor.
NOTHING PREPARES YOU FOR THAT
RUSH OF ADRENALINE
YOU GET ONCE YOU HAVE
FINALLY HOOKED YOUR FISH.
14 Fall 2016 Adventure Outdoors
Catching the bass became a rite of passage, a step back into
a lost love I’d once caught before, but had foolishly released.
Now, in this moment, nothing mattered more to me than
holding this feeling close. I could sense his angst as he pulsed
and squirmed under my hands, and I was sure that he could
sense my exhilaration. I sought to calm him, and I retrieved
my lure.
I couldn’t cast another line fast enough.