30 May 2010
Lake Amistad NRA, San Pedro Canyon
We put in at San Pedro Canyon, a new destination for Cody Mood Bell, but reading the map's "hot spots," it looked like it would produce fish. When Ken Burns created his Lewis and Clark: The Corps of Discovery documentary, at the end of the part one, he said Lewis and Clark were about to learn the difference between mountains on a map and mountains in real life. Today, Cody and Julia fully comprehended Burns' words and learned the difference between hot fishing spots on a map and true hot spots.
We saw fish, had fish turn to look at our flies and nudge our flies, and even watched several inhale and promptly spit out our flies, but catching them eluded us dramatically. We should have known that the day was going to be difficult when Cody hung his fly on a submerged tree. We trolled over, as we always do, and Cody attempted to free his fly from the tree. Unfortunately, it was too wrapped around the branch, so Cody decided to break off and sacrifice the Creek Crawler fly to the waters. When Cody went to tie on a new fly, he realized that the rod's tip section was missing and had become separated when he broke off the fly and his line popped through the guides. Well, Cody tells me he's going snorkeling, and as soon as he turns his back, that TFO 7# tip section bobs up in the water--tip down. We have to be very careful trolling to it so that the water wake does not flood the open end. Gratefully, Cody is able to pinch that tip and retrieve it from the waters. Cody switches rods, and we continue fishing the San Pedro Cove--with no luck!
We had made a deal before beginning to fish, that if neither of us liked where we were fishing, we had to tell the other, and we would move to a new spot. With no fish to our credit and well in to our second hour on the water, we headed to the flats, which were supposed to be hot for Largemouth's from May - October. No nips, no hits, no fish--the flats were cold regardless the season's temperatures. Thus, Cody ate and in my desperation, I tied a beautiful blue dragonfly pattern to my floating line in the attempts to catch one of the many carp that constantly crashed the surface. (Those who know my fishing preferences have just been given CPR to read that I deigned to fish for carp; I strongly dislike carp, regardless of the fact they are nicknamed the golden bonefish and give an excellent fight; I do not like carp!)
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