Floating with some friends on one of my favorite waters. We need rain. Bad. The river was boney and gin clear. That’s a one-two combination for tough fishing.
Long leaders and bite guards were employed. Streamers were the name of the game. Poppers just weren’t working at all. We had many heartbreaking refusals and way too many window shoppers to count.
We saw huge smallmouth well after they’d seen us due to the low water and clarity. Those fish were always twenty feet and twenty seconds ahead of you.
The pike were being pike. When you could find them on structure. Voracious water rockets with death on their minds. The hammer handles were awake but the giants were wary. We did manage to poke two big pike but none came to hand.
At the end of the day, as the sun’s angry glare was receding, beers were sipped while we slowly made our way to the takeout.
You can’t buy these kinds of good times.
Life’s a garden.