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Discussion Starter #1 (Edited)
8-1-2013 Report

In a secret water shed hidden in the heart of God’s creation a river quietly flows. It carves its way through a green country valley. Grass lines that are now fully grown frame the outside edge of the stream painting the midsummer season in the deep color of green. Tracking through the flow a short vessel floats the water. It carries one man a small amount of equipment and gear. Although it is the beginning of evening it is the end of a long work day. The yellow sun has long mounted off its zenith from earlier in the day and slowly sinks below the tree line. With a rod ’n’ reel and hook ‘n’ line at hand you search the water. It’s an ancient game of hide and seek. It is a tale as old as time between man and fish. Excitement . . . adventure . . . the pursuit.

The search leads you on down the river. Hoping somewhere along the way a hole will be found that may hold the residence of your game. Sunken wood? Exposed log jams? Maybe beyond the river bend in a washed out eddy at the end of a white tipped riffle? You don’t know when or where it will take place but you always expect it at any moment. You carry on. Cast retrieve. . pitch’n flip. Among the many casts you feel the subtle change. Your line pulls slightly to the left. Maybe slack is popped into the line from a quick bite from below or the weight of the lure simply disappears. Regardless of how it arrives you feel the bite. You know he is there. Will it be a brute or the average stock whose fight is just as fierce? Your heart skips a beat then raps a heavy rhythm when the hook is set and the query found. The hunt is hard but the fight even harder still because when hooked smallmouth bass are at their best.

Floating at a slow waft the sudden engagement storms your senses and pulls both you and boat into the fight. The evening transforms from calm air and still waters to a frenzy of excitement. Emotion racks your nerves. The fight persists and so does the thought of having lost him before. The thought provokes your fear. Should I have retied the line? Was it frayed? Wait, the knot was it tied taught? Your thoughts collect in mass! Then suddenly as the thoughts came they all wash away. Everything is gone – work – stress – thought. Everything. At the end of your line the fish breaches the surface and reveals itself above the water. You don’t place it in that moment but you know it to be something not found elsewhere. You have come alive and finally found yourself for only a moment perfectly lost. You’ve been there before and you’ll come after it again. Excitement . . . adventure . . . the pursuit.

19"er



12"er



Handfull



13"er



Predator Eyes



14"er

 

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That's a "mean mug" look your sporting there SMBH holding that 13 incher!
Nice write up and great looking fish!
PS, you always include such detail but it seems you tend to forget to mention where you are catching your fish. Just thought I'd mention it in case you hadn't noticed.
Yeah, I got your back. That's how I roll....


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Discussion Starter #4
That's a "mean mug" look your sporting there SMBH holding that 13 incher!
I think I look much better holding the 19" Smallmouth in the pic below the 13"er!!! :D

PS, you always include such detail but it seems you tend to forget to mention where you are catching your fish. Just thought I'd mention it in case you hadn't noticed.
Well didn't you read what I wrote . . I was LOST . . no clue where I was fishing!?!?! lol :confused::D:confused:
 

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Nice fish and a nice fish tale to go with it!
 
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