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Today was pure stress at work. The application to be an astronaut just closed, and we are in the midst of sorting and reviewing thousands of applications. After work, I headed down towards one of my local bank spots. I have no intentions of catching fish, I just wanted to get away for a bit. I walked up to my spot, still in my dress shirt and slacks, and immersed myself away from civilization. Next to me was a stream of water trickling into the main waterway. The constant patter of the water droplets drowned out the distant cars. While the water was overwhelmingly loud, I could still hear the the gulls circling overhead, and the heron gliding to the water's edge. There would be an occasional splash of a fish jumping and at that point, I felt at home.
Ever since coming on this site, I have been constantly reading the plethora of information that is available. A lot of the folks on here have referenced the "sportman's way." Initially, I had no clue what it was. To me, I fished to catch fish. It was a black and white activity with success equating to me holding a fish, and failure with no fish. No matter how I tired to look at it, my view didn't change.
I then started to meet and fish with the people on this forum. All of them have been great people and wonderful individuals. Their skill levels ranged but regardless, it did not diminish their individuality and character. Through this process of meeting people, I started learning the waters. They showed me how to watch the surface of a glass calm flat, or the reeds of a marsh shoreline. They pointed out the birds circling overhead or scattering of fish in the distance. They talked about the weather in relation to fishing and the intricacies that went with it. Suddenly, I started to feel something different when I fished.
All this learning started to make me more observant- more in tune with my surroundings. I started to see the beauty of the water. I could see the glow of the sunrise on a the flats, the whispy tendrils of fog running towards our spot, the sway of the trees while we battled with red fish. It became breathtaking to see. Soon, it didn't matter if I caught fish or not. I became caught up in the beauty of it all, that it did not matter. This is when I realized I had discovered the "sportman's way." A lot of us don't go out there to catch limits of fish. We go out there to enjoy these moments when we are looking for fish. If we happen to catch em, then it's an added bonus.
With this in mind, I casted out my hackberry. The water was a little off color and flat. Occasionally there would be some shad flipping on the surface. On my first cast, I felt the tell-tale sign of a flounder hitting the lure. I set the rod tip down and let him eat it. After my 10 count, I set the hook and reeled in a nice 16 inch flatty. After a picture, I let him go. After a few casts, I saw some bubbles rise to the surface. I casted a foot beyond it and twitched the hackberry through. I then felt a *tap*. It was very light, but I knew I had another flounder on. I again gave it the 10 count and set the hook. Drag started peeling immediately and I gained on the line. The flounder came to the surface 10 yards from shore and it was HUGE. It was at least 24 if not bigger. The flounder ran to my left and peeled out some more line. Then it switched directions and turned right and a head shake...hook came out.
That was dejecting right there. I made a few more casts and caught a potato chip doing the same thing. After that, I watched the sun set and headed home, smiling at the afternoon.
Ever since coming on this site, I have been constantly reading the plethora of information that is available. A lot of the folks on here have referenced the "sportman's way." Initially, I had no clue what it was. To me, I fished to catch fish. It was a black and white activity with success equating to me holding a fish, and failure with no fish. No matter how I tired to look at it, my view didn't change.
I then started to meet and fish with the people on this forum. All of them have been great people and wonderful individuals. Their skill levels ranged but regardless, it did not diminish their individuality and character. Through this process of meeting people, I started learning the waters. They showed me how to watch the surface of a glass calm flat, or the reeds of a marsh shoreline. They pointed out the birds circling overhead or scattering of fish in the distance. They talked about the weather in relation to fishing and the intricacies that went with it. Suddenly, I started to feel something different when I fished.
All this learning started to make me more observant- more in tune with my surroundings. I started to see the beauty of the water. I could see the glow of the sunrise on a the flats, the whispy tendrils of fog running towards our spot, the sway of the trees while we battled with red fish. It became breathtaking to see. Soon, it didn't matter if I caught fish or not. I became caught up in the beauty of it all, that it did not matter. This is when I realized I had discovered the "sportman's way." A lot of us don't go out there to catch limits of fish. We go out there to enjoy these moments when we are looking for fish. If we happen to catch em, then it's an added bonus.
With this in mind, I casted out my hackberry. The water was a little off color and flat. Occasionally there would be some shad flipping on the surface. On my first cast, I felt the tell-tale sign of a flounder hitting the lure. I set the rod tip down and let him eat it. After my 10 count, I set the hook and reeled in a nice 16 inch flatty. After a picture, I let him go. After a few casts, I saw some bubbles rise to the surface. I casted a foot beyond it and twitched the hackberry through. I then felt a *tap*. It was very light, but I knew I had another flounder on. I again gave it the 10 count and set the hook. Drag started peeling immediately and I gained on the line. The flounder came to the surface 10 yards from shore and it was HUGE. It was at least 24 if not bigger. The flounder ran to my left and peeled out some more line. Then it switched directions and turned right and a head shake...hook came out.
That was dejecting right there. I made a few more casts and caught a potato chip doing the same thing. After that, I watched the sun set and headed home, smiling at the afternoon.
COMMUNITY WITH A LARGE
PROBLEM AND A 
PROBLEM.
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