So once again I returned to Miller's in the hopes that I could get a strike on a big swimbait. The moon was still out when I arrived. I started with my Savage Gear trouts, which I'd got strikes on before, but nothing seemed to want them this time around.
I switched to my 9 inch sinking 22nd Century Baits Triple Trout hardbait, a rather expensive piece of hardware. This bait is supposedly good for seeking out bass because of how wide it swims and also because the double hinges squeak as the bait clacks its way through the water.
After a few casts from my favorite spot at Miller's, I managed to snag it just offshore in about seven or eight feet of water. I yanked as hard as I could to try and free it, but could not do so. For a moment I resigned myself to simply giving up the lure and moving on.
It was then, however, that I got the idiotic idea to swim out to retrieve it. After all, it was only out about ten feet from shore, and I could follow my braided line all the way out to the snag.
I would like to mention that this was the first time I have ever swam out to retrieve a fishing lure. I have no inclinations towards water or swimming, and have not swam for several months, if not years. I weigh about 200 pounds currently and am not a good swimmer/athelete and cannot open my eyes underwater anyways. Although none of this occurred to me at the time.
I stripped down to my boxers and climbed down into the pond, which seemed freezing cold at the time. Our summer has yet to kick in to high gear and it still gets kind of cold at night. I got acclimated to the temperature and began to doggy paddle / drown my way out to the snag.
Once there I attempted to tread water but could not do so because I was already exhausted from the swim out. I wrapped my hand around the braid and began to yank at it in the hopes of freeing my lure, only to slice up my hand profusely.
The act of staying afloat for mere moments exhausted me and I returned to shore. Once there I sat on a rock in my soaked boxers, panting in exhaustion for several minutes.
After I caught my breath I grabbed my rod for one last try to yank the lure loose. I figured I would either snap the line or break my rod in the process, but at that point I was comfortable with both of those outcomes. "Fuck it."
I pulled my rod up as hard as I could, and after a few seconds I felt a release of tension and assumed it was my line breaking. I began to reel and...lo and behold...my triple trout was free! The hook had bent just enough to release it!
A few lessons here:
Don't throw expensive swimbaits until you know where the rocks and potential snags are.
Braided line cuts hurt. Like a fucking lot. Avoid them if possible. Mine hurt for days, and being a Tattooer I had to constantly wash my hands, opening up the wounds over and over again. Braid is dangerous, handle it with care.
Braided line is strong stuff. I was using 20 pound Fireline and I gave that pull as much strength as I could muster, and the hook gave out before the line did!
Finally, if you don't swim well, dont bother going out to retrieve your lures. If you love something, let it go. But then pull on it REALLY HARD, and if comes back to you it was truly meant to be.
I didn't catch anything at Miller's in the four hours or so I was there. Not even a goddamned nibble. Oh well.
Thanks for reading, and see you next time.
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