Do you think I cot a fish my first time fishing, I am going to tell you guys what my story is going to be about my first time fishing. One day I went to Horse Creek Lake with my dad we went trout fishing. My dad has always fish over there that was my first time going over there fishing.
My first time going fishing
I was going to Horse Creek Lake with my dad. On the way there we stop and got something to eat. Then we got there we started to put the boat in the water, but I forgot fishing rod in the truck. So I had to go and get it so we could hurry, and put the boat in the water because me and my dad wanted to go fishing so bad. I got my fishing rod then we slowly started to get the boat off the trailer, so we could troll around and fish. That was my first time ever fishing I was so excited to go fishing for my first time.
Sometimes I aggravate
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The bad thing about it quit playing with it and I said there goes my first fish I was so mad because I did not catch, but my dad said we are not leaving in till you catch one he said I tell you what I will take you to one of my hot spots. Well he took me to one of his hotspots, He well just wait here we are going to catch one I was like so happy because I thought I was going to catch one. I look at my dad he was happy too for me I said why are you happy I haven’t got nothing yet he said you just wait I said why are we moving I have a trick to get you a fish I said ok. Then we started to troll around the lake so we could get a trout I casted my line and it started to jerk so I grab it and I did and jerk it I started to reel fast I kept on getting it closer to the boat, and finally I got it in it was a catfish I was so happy but my dad said it that is not a trout, and I stared to get mad because of
Carp fishing seems always to have been surrounded by a certain aura of magic and mystery, particularly on the more secluded and intimate waters. It's sad that much of this has been dispelled with the carp boom of the last few years. The hair-rig started the rot, and the ready made boilie finished it off! But reading through many angler's experiences, especially on Redmire, one wonders if, at times, there are other influences at work. I don't know why there should be, or why it would seem to apply only to carp fishing. Perhaps because, of all the angling methods, the pursuit of carp gives more time for contemplation, more time for outside forces to get into the mind. Or maybe these strange happenings are
I have been fishing the lakes and rivers of the southeastern United States for most of my life and for most of that time I have been pursuing the common carp. But about 15 years ago I started catching these strange new fish occasionally when I was carp fishing. I can remember as if it were yesterday the first time I landed this stunning silver giant, and I had not a clue what it was. At the end of that session I rushed home and began looking thru every book I had on fresh water fishes. Finally, I found a picture of a fish that I believed was the same one I had caught. It was a White Amur or as it is more commonly known, grass carp.
This weekend my family is going out to dinner to celebrate my mom's 43rd birthday. We plan on going to Granite City in St. Cloud. After my father shall drive us to our fishing spot for fishing opener. We will start fishing for catfish that are as slavish as earthworms. Walleye and Pike are not open until 12 at night, that is pretty late for me. We like to use shrimp for bait, expensive I know. At midnight we will start casting for Walleyes with rustic lures, Walleyes always seem to be intimidating us with their soul piercing eyes. Fatigue consumes us before that though, we are not late night people. Since our family has done so great at our fishing spot, therefore i'm not allowed to give away the spot so secret the FBI does
My uncle and I started getting everything setup so we could start fishing. I grabbed my fishing rod, placed the bait on the hook, unfolded my chair, and waited for a fish. Tim saw me sitting by myself so he walked over to the dock to talk to me about some stuff; he started telling me about his most prized/special catfish, the albino catfish. The albino catfish lived
Grandpa caught 3 and Grandpa’s friend caught 3. Then we started back to the cabin to have the fish cleaned.
“Ok, let's get you set” he said. He got me set up and I hopped in the water. He passed me the rope and said “good luck.” I got into position, held the rope tight and yelled “Ready!" dad stepped on it, the force of the boat was too much and I let go.
For me, the joy of fishing is not remembered by the size of the fish or even by the picture we took at the end of the day. I will forever connect the joy of that day to the joy of every other fishing trip. Whether the fishing took place 7 years ago or 7 weeks ago the joy is and will still be the same. That joy is what makes the fishing so
“Come on, “ my counselor Emily screamed from shore. The quick rapids made it very difficult to dig our paddles into the river. My cabin was stopping to eat lunch on our Tuesday canoeing trip. On Saturday, we had traveled down to Brownstown, Indiana for a week full of friends, fun, and God. My church stayed at a retreat center called Pyoca. Every year on Tuesday, we would go on a canoeing or rafting trip depending on the water levels. Emily, Annabelle, my canoeing partner, and I sat along the sand bank waiting for other canoes to come in. Many other groups slowly went by, while we patiently waited for other groups to come in. I was so hungry, I couldn’t wait. Canoeing had zapped all of my energy, and had made me really hungry. I began to quickly wade out into the river, so I could help the other canoes come in faster. Someone screamed, “Be careful” from the bank. Nate Epple, a counselor of
There is no feeling like walking out into the woods on a windy chilly afternoon, and climbing into my favorite deer stand waiting on the perfect buck to come out. As he walks out and I put the cold rifle to your face, breathe in, pull the trigger, and watch him fall. I want future hunters to know that feeling and not worry about poachers messing with the game that the little young hunter is hunting. I want to protect the game and their natural habitats from poachers and cheating hunters. I looked up the information needed to become a fish and game warden The first place I looked for information about Fish and Game Wardens was a website called MS Choices. The next placed I looked at was a website
If you're an avid fisherman you probably have an issue with buying too much tackle just as i do. I used to carry a duffle "system" of tackle everywhere I went fishing. When I began fishing remote hike in locations I learned my duffel system was not going to make the cut. There are a few rules of thumb I follow when packing up my tackle.
I can remember the time that I shot my first deer like it was yesterday. I have never really been a big deer hunter until this past season. My dad had left me at our farm all by myself and he was going to come later. I got in the woods around 3:00 to 3:30. I sat it the stand for about a while and it was getting cold. I was wishing that I had brought my 22 rifle because I saw about 6 squirrels. I did not think that I was going to see a deer but I was wrong. Before the deer came along one of the squirrels ran up my tree stand and I could have probably kicked it if I wanted. It was getting dark when I heard my dad shoot. I waited a little bit longer and then I saw three doe. I wanted to shoot a buck so I let them pass. Then I knew that I probably
Stepsister: I’ve seen her feed this fish. It has gotten really big! Stepmother: (in shock) I’ll have to do something about that fish! (Stepmother runs down to pond and looks for fish.
So we went around to see if anyone was leaving but everybody said “no or sorry”. So my dad was starting to get mad so we got the worst spot by the bathroom. My dad got me all set up but then my dad seen a deer and said not to move he dashed to grab his bow. But just
but it was finished then I took small break for fifthteen minutes. After that I went looking for food that's when I saw crab.
My life changed forever the first time my dad took me there. My cousin’s farm: the most tranquil place in my life. Starting around the age of four, my dad began to take me fishing on my cousin’s farm near Bolivar, Tennessee. I fell in love with the place from the moment I emerged from the gravel road to see the acres upon acres of land with a small cabin and two lakes sitting in the middle. The cache of memories I have at the farm help make it meaningful to me.