Aspire to be great, but expect little

Double trouble on a tough day

By my calculations, it was June the last time I casted to a hungry carp on Lake X.  I pondered this while dreaming of what Saturday morning would bring.  With the fall weather finally upon us, thoughts of 2014 danced in my head.  My daydream began with me parking on the side of the gravel road.  The crisp September air prompted the addition of my windbreaker before rigging up.  A quick glance up at the lake left my jaw on the tailgate of my truck while I watched hundreds of common carp sipping on the surface.  What a morning at Lake X that was.

Flash forward to present time reality, and my alarm was already set.  On the road by 6:30, fishing by 7.  I picked up Burt before heading north.  With rain in the forecast for that morning, we wanted to make it with plenty of fishing time to spare.  Recent experiences, along with limited exposure to Lake X over the summer, had forced high expectations upon my rational thought processes.  Today was going to be a great day!  

We arrived to cool, calm, foggy conditions.  Seemingly perfect for fall fishing.  But where were the fish?  Usually, the drive along the rip rap offers up mouth watering anticipation.  Strike one for expectations.  No worries!  They're probably all back in the bay.  We come around the corner expecting to see fish crashing out of the water, and cruising the surface, only to find...nothing.  Steeeeerike two for expectations!  We gear up and begin moving toward the old road bed.

Walking this shoreline on a normal day would have an angler pushing out shallow carp with only a puff of Lake X mud as a sign that they were there.  Today, only painted turtles scooted out of our way.   Curiouser and curiouser.  As we come up to the road bed I stop suddenly.  The large golden back belonging to a six or seven pound carp stood out from the rocks about 15 feet ahead.  Before I had a chance to strip out some line, he had turned and leisurely swam off.  I walk to the road bed...Nothing.  Steeeerike Three!  Expectations had gone out the door at this point.  We were grasping at straws searching for answers.  As we started for the rip rap, the answer became apparent.  Big schools of what we call "floatillas" (large groups of carp on top of the water in the form of a raft) were scattered across the main part of the lake.  Reaching them was impossible at this point, so we continued on to the rip rap, hoping they would eventually move closer to shore.

One step forward, they swim two feet back

The rip rap offered little relief from our difficult start to the fishing day.  On the plus side, there were fish.  All along the shoreline.  The bad news...they were small fish keeping plenty of distance.  We took one step forward, they swam two feet back.  As soon as you would get within casting range, they would disperse.  After casting to a few groups, we decided to make our way back to the road bed.  

15.49 #s

It's looking pretty grim at this point.  If fish hadn't moved near the road bed, or into the back bay, we'd be reconsidering out fishing options.  Fortunately, we arrived at the road bed to find a few floatillas, and some individual fish cruising the surface.  While they were also playing hard to get, we were finally able to sight fish for specific carp. What a relief that is!  After only a few minutes of inching towards fish, I hook up.  "Fish on?" asked Burt.  "Fish on!" I replied.  I was still hesitant to begin celebrating a hook up considering our luck so far that morning.  Maybe I snagged it, my leader might break, I might lose him on a run, etc.   But when I saw the hook firmly embedded in the golden bone's top lip,  I exhaled with relief, "Ahhhh, top lip."  It was a nice first fish too.  15 pounds and some change.

After a few more fish, and a double, the wind began to make things a bit more difficult.  Six fish by 11:30 wasn't so bad given our situation.  We took it in stride, along with our lesson for the day.  High aspirations, low expectations.  You never know what you're going to get.