Picking up what I can't put down

A late-summer's catfish in 2015.

Picking up what I can't put down

As those who have been following my blog have discovered, I am a fisherman at heart.  It consumes every free moment for me, and I enjoy the thrill of every cast.

The fish pictured above was one of those thrills.  At one of my favorite fishing holes, this grumpy old cat came out to play, and we had a hell of a fight.

The night had been slow, and the bite was not really there.  It was a hot one, it had to be 80 degrees even when this picture was taken at 10 p.m.

We were ready to call a loss, and were reeling up our lines.  Then, we were stopped by a screaming noise.

It sounded like a coyote.  Wrong. It was actually the reel on my heavy-duty pole, screaming out line.

After a ten-minute fight and being stung by the fish twice, I grabbed a hold of him and threw him to shore.

These are the moments that keep me coming back to the water.  These are the moments that keep me wondering what's lurking under the surface.