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Rescue & Retrieval Mission


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Saturday - barring any monsoon or floods of Biblical proportion - I will be fishing "the creek". This mission is not just in

search of bronze but it must serve a higher order. Last outing I put one of Jonn Graham's jigs into a brush pile and a different

lure into another area. I had one hell of a time knocking the rust off 2 weeks ago.

The truth is, I haven't been able to sleep knowing that jig is sitting where it is. It's a hard to access area in higher water but I

recall an adventure-some way to get into there. I'm a coveteous ladd. I like my baits and continue to kick myself in the hynie

for bad casts. It goes to the exact nature of my wrongs - perfectionist - all in or all out.


I'm good for one lure donation every other month. This one, I'm having trouble living with. Jonn's jig hit the water 3 times before

it got stuck in the jungle. Since Jonn gave me some pointers on tying my own jigs - I must under take this venture.

Wish me luck!

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Good luck Brian.


I hate to loose lures too even though it seems that the rivergods give as well as take.


As Steven Flint says," Feed the water."

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I was wade fishing under the State St bridge in S Elgin---west side of the east side bridge piling.

My feet got tangled in some heavy weight fishing line, that was entangled in some rebar.

I pulled out my trusty serrated bowie knife and reached down to cut the line---my arm and wrist came in contact with some rebar---as I raised my hand/arm upward, my watch band got caught on the end of the rebar.

At this time, I was losing my balance, and didn't want to topple over into the water, and take a dunking.

I quickly pulled up, and became fully upright----as I was sheathing my knife, I noticed my watch was missing.

I reached down and around all those rocks and broken concrete---but didn't come up with it.


I got home quite late that evening, from my wade trip---

my wife already had dinner waiting for quite some time.

The grilled steaks, potatos and all, were cold.

I told her I lost my watch---

she said, "ya right", "you probably traded it in for another Loomis Rod".

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A wife who knows her man alright. Where did you stash the new rod?


I don't "stash" them, I keep 'em out in the open.


TIP: keep switching the rod/reel rigs around, mix 'em up, fly, spinning, casting, floating---

short, long, etc

it gives the illusion they're used often and they've been there all the time.


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Gives the appearance they've been used more. Boy I wish I could figure something out w/ all of those tackle boxes,

totes, gear bags etc.....

I guess using them all more would be a fine start!


That's another reason I have rods & reels "stored" in a few locations - can't add them all up and my wife really doesn't

want to spend that much time near my work bench area anyway! That's another free tip from your Uncle Larry!

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Once during the coho run in Indiana I was fishing with my buddy Joe. I just baited one rod up, a St Croix Legend and a Shimano Stradic, and laid it out on the break wall. Started to rig up a second rod, when the first one darts into the lake. It went in like a freakin' javelin. Then I watched it sink and dart away like a jerkbait. I just stood there in disbelief. I just bought both over 200 bucks and I figure they are about 20 feet down or swimming towards Door County.

You know how clear Lake Michigan is. Imagine how long it took to disappear. we continued fishing.

It's pretty quiet. I'm totaly down, feeling like the worlds biggest dumbsh*t for a A. bait fishing with such an expensive outfit and B. not leaving the bail open. Joe knows how bummed I am and does his best to cheer me up...to no avail.


Joe, puts on a deep diving crankbait and starts casting. It's still dead silent. Then I see waaaaaaay off in the horizon a silver fish jump with something orange (my bobber) wrapped around him. Seconds later my Joe yells, "got one!" 'cept he didn't exactly have a fish on, he snagged the line in between my rod and reel and the now surfaced coho.

I start to hand over hand the line in, the fish end. Easily a 100 feet. I flip the fish up on the breakwall. Then I began the task of trying to retrieve my rig. I started to handline, what seemed like an endless amount of line. It was clear the bail was still open.


I'm a pessimist by nature. Optimists usually get screwed. So do pessimists, but at least we see it comming and are never dissappointed.


So recap....Standing on a breakwall in indiana holding onto 6lb mono, that just went thru zebra mussell hell with maybe $220 bucks on the other end about 15- 20 feet away. I lay belly down over the wall. Joe holds my legs. i gingerly bring the outfit up. Slowly...hand over hand just waiting for...PLINK...only it never happened. I could see my outift, held only by the arbor knot tied by John from JJ's bait and tackle. To my disbelief the rod and reel came to hand.


So that outfit went to the bottom of Lake Michigan easily 20 feet down and 30 feet away. Those are really conservative estimates. What are the odds? We got the rod, the reel AND the fish in. Hung out caught a few more fish.


On the way home I (Jokingly, expecting !@#$ back) told Joe, "You know, technically that was MY fish" Ever humble Joe, responded "Yeah, I know".


We went back to my house, drank some beer, ate some fish.

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Here's one for ya. About 2 weeks ago I was on a fishing trip in Florida with my Dad, visiting my brother. There were a few times when my brother would say to my Dad "remember when we fished here" and Dad would be adamant that he was never there. After a few of these, he started to question just how much of his memory he was losing. On the return flight, we got off the plane at Midway and made it almost all the way to baggage when he remembered he left his library book in the back seat pocket. I teased him about being feeble but he really became upset with himself. Luckily we retrieved the book. After we made it back to baggage, I stopped to make a phone call at the pay phone to contact our ride. We went to wait outside about 10 minutes until our ride arrived. While we loaded our gear in the trunk, I realized my two fly rods (in their tubes) were missing. I ran back into the airport and checked every place we stopped, lost baggage, etc. Good thing Dad was with, as I forgot to check the last place I stopped - the pay phone. There, laying on the booth shelf, my Dad found my two rod tubes. I couldn't believe they were still there! Then, when I got home and walked in my condo, I discovered that I had left the patio door open the entire week! So just who is losing their mind????


I think Dad felt a lot better after that.

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Guest Don R
Then, when I got home and walked in my condo, I discovered that I had left the patio door open the entire week!


Did you notice any Spotted Cow missing?





*burp* :blink:


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