Maybe unfinished business from my week in the south got into my brain. Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic for fifty fish days on the same ratty piece of chenille and wisp of marabou on a hook. My brother is firing up his new boat next week, getting out on the Great Lakes for the first time this year. The warmwater fisheries I grew up with are calling my name.
I actually spun deerhair and packed it for the first time since high school.
Maybe it’s because I inherited a fifty-year old skiff that’s not good for much else. I may have lost my mind, but at least it will be good for the blog. How many posts do you need to read where we cleaned up on a possie bugger and mega-prince? Or we wound up on some great piece of steelhead water that we can’t say anything about? So keep your eyes peeled for me on the bass pro circuit. And if you have any recommendations or helpful hints on warmwater opportunities, pass ’em on.