I FINALLY managed to go to the opening of the trout season.
Winter is particularly warm this year. Glancing at the weather forecast, I decided that this day was MINE. +3-5 degrees of heat, without precipitation, what could be better? Well, the only worrying phenomenon is the wind. It was promised up to 16 meters. But that didn't stop me.
Beginning of fishing
After arriving at the venue and starting to set up, the wind started to get a little unsettling. Gusts are cold and frequent. If that's the case, I won't be able to do all the fishing for a long time. Well, the accuracy of the throw will suffer a lot. Which is not magical after not fishing for a long time. Well, you can't do anything, it's the way it is. After preparing my new set for trout, I went to the river.
When he went down to the river, he immediately felt that the lawn remained somewhere above. And he was practically not felt near the river. You could only hear his rustle, but you didn't feel yourself at all. I was very happy and started fishing. The first straights, bends, turns - empty. So I walk idly for a good hour. I start experimenting.
The first trout baits
I change the bait from natural to bright. I change the transmission. From a slow lead to a more aggressive stop & go with a slightly backward release of the bait. And here's the first nail-biter on the bait return. I'm glad. But I won't cut it. I don't get a repeat and I continue to travel. I see a reel in the next promising spot, but the trout misses the bait. The second throw BAM is. The first of this year. Adrenaline rush. The mood is lifted! DRIVE! One more little twist. I release the bait under a tree branch. turn, stop, release the bait back a bit BAM there it is. Small, but getting more and more fun.
After several successful baitings, I take a break.
I drink coffee, I eat a kibin, I swell up. There was silence after the break. Bend after bend, trout are not visible. So inexorably came the end of my fishing. The last bends were not far away. As I approach another bend, I see a rather beautiful place. A fallen tree has branches hanging over it. I release the bait downstream. One generation. Second. On the third. Empty. I didn't run it last time. And on top of that, the trout presses the wobbler for the last time. Nice fat guy. From the eye to the bed pulls. And that was the last trout I saw that day. As we walked, it started to rain. And I decided not to play with fate and pack home.
Big thanks to EB Lure for the wobblers. Wobbler work is amazing. I will apply again in the future to expand the assortment. 🙂
