Big Jim and I headed out for perch today, since we heard it was epic and perch are damn good to eat. We did catch about 30 in an hour, which was pretty good but the three hours before that, we only caught 5. We were just about to call it but we decided, "one more try," so we headed out a little deeper and sha'lam. It was on.
We started our day in about 40 feet of water and caught a couple and thought we were good but it slowed down pretty quick. We then moved into shallower water to about 18 feet with nothing. Then we slowly moved back to 40 feet with very few takers. It was a little disappointing to say the least. I mean, I grew up doing this shit, right? It can't be that hard and at some point I thought we were being punked. There were guys all around us and although they were catching a couple here and there like we were, they weren't filling buckets up like the reports were saying. So with our fingers getting numb and our patience wearing thin, we decided we'd move one last time before we headed out. That was at about 1:45.
We moved out about 20 yards and about 8 feet in depth--jigged a couple times and we both said, almost simultaneously, "there's one!" From that point on we were getting doubled up, fish were eating before our jigs would get to the bottom and we were loving life thinking, "Oh, this is how it's suppose to be."
Looking around though, we didn't see a lot of other people catching fish. In fact, most of the folks picked up and left. A couple of guys just outside of us and a little west kept looking at us like, "You mutha's." What can you say?
The actions stayed pretty hot for a while with some reprieves but we did a fair number on them for a little while anyway; not as good as we heard it was but still a decent day. Fish-fry at our house for the Superbowl!
Keep 'em where they live...
P.S. I know, winter was made for skiing. That's tomorrow.
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