You know it's been TOO LONG when you can't remember the last time you came to grips with your swimming slimy friends. Not being able to remember the last fish you caught or even the last trip you took is something that I'm not used to. I guess that is what a 12 month deployment and multiple other short trips will do to ya.
I'm fortunate enough to live in an amazing area and to be surrounded by good people. Once I finished a couple of projects around the house after returning home from Afghanistan, I joined Benton Parrott for an early morning session in our neck of the woods.
Tropical Storm Gordon decided to dump a metric $#IT ton of rain on our stomping grounds a couple of days prior. Along with that, the trusty weather man was a little off by the winds that were forecasted. Between the wind and the water conditions, we figured the bite might be a little tough to come by. At this point, I didn't care...it just felt good to be on the water again.
We tried to get on a trout bite first thing in the morning but nobody appeared to be home. If they were, they were not hungry. After we logged the goose-egg for trout, we went after bull reds to hopefully jump-start the morning.
It didn't take long before a pissed off bull blew up my Skitterwalk without coming tight. That blowup gave us a little pep in our step as Benton knew it was just a matter of time. A short while later...BOOM...this time it came tight.
The jackhammer headshakes and line-ripping runs that a low 30" class redfish provides is fun as hell on medium tackle! It has been 15 plus months since the last time I felt that rush...and I loved every second of it.