One beautiful summer evening after a dinner of tacos and beer at the Trillium Cafe, Tara and I took a walk. We followed Hood River from downtown, stopping to eat a few fat blackberries before making our way onto The Spit, a narrow park extending into the Columbia River. Continue reading
Spring Break Part 1: Out of my Jurisdiction
This month, Tara and I enjoyed a little Spring-break trip to visit some friends back in Nashville. Taking advantage of the unreasonably warm weather I dragged our gracious hosts out to some of my old fishing haunts.
I was hoping to get a shot at some carp but they proved scarce. Luckily, Justin found a sweet spot and we spent the morning catching crappie with our carp flies.
Fueled by Fish
After Hurricane Ike closed down refineries in Texas a week or so ago, there was some disruption in the supply lines bringing gasoline to Nashville. Those attracted by the drama of a shortage began lining up at gas stations. This DID cause a shortage because people who didn’t really need gas, or people who would normally have just put in a quarter of a tank were suddenly topping off every chance they got, and filling up extra gas cans too! The “psychological gas shortage” (as my friend has dubbed it) did not stop Mike and I from visiting a local bass spot on the Harpeth River System.
Mike hadn’t been to the stream in years and was suprised at the changes. Erosion had widened the streambed which meant shallower water and so the big bass of his youth had moved on to new homes. There were still some fish and we had fun wading from pool to pool, catching fish where we could:
This is a well hidden spot – one I never would have found without some local help. A real Tennessee treasure…
A Small Mouth Secret
My summer fishing is o-fishially under way (you like that don’t you?). Yesterday I spent the afternoon on Percy Priest Lake. I managed to land my first smallmouth bass of the year on a little weighted nymph. The best part about this fish is that it is hiding right under everyone’s nose, in a spot so obvious that none of the thousand self proclaimed Bass Masters zooming around the lake will find it.