A Bucket of Fatheads

Blogger, the outfit that supplies this blog format I use, did maintenance the past few days, which is why I've been absent. I fished my favorite North Branch area, AT&T, on Wednesday just before sunset. I found the browns very picky. Several of them would take the minnow, run a few feet, drop it, pick it up again, and so on three times over, so I didn't know when to set the hook. In fact, twice I pulled the fathead from the trout's gullet without hooking the fish, to remove from the hook what appeared partially digested.

Both of those minnows fully measured over two-inches in length, but most of my supply were almost pinhead size. If you can find a bait dealer who will sell you full-size fatheads, you're fortunate. 

Nevertheless, the browns struck these little offerings just as well, it seemed, but casting them isn't easy, even with a split shot. I saw very few trout caught by others, who cast artificials, salted minnows, and worms.

I missed hit after hit, more than 15 altogether, losing three I browns had on, but frustration never got the better of me. I had first fished a little further upstream, getting no hits at all, with plenty of bait and some time left. Pretty soon I had one, and since the hits came steady, I focused on making connection. I began to land trout as the flow of experience began to bring everything together. That's re-creation--allowing the power of nature's unity to make you whole and affirming of life. The only way to it is close attention to details that lead the way.

In fewer than the last ten minutes of my visit, I caught three trout. I had found the knack to setting the hook. The last of these three filled my limit, and I didn't take another cast.