One Fisherman's Catch

Finding just the right spot on the river can make all the difference when you’re fishing for trout. I know. I can’t count the number of weekends I’ve spent in hip boots casting a line into the water. But every fisherman has his own ideas about what spot is the right spot.

“I’m going downriver,” my friend Rex said one morning as we came up to the bank of Rock Creek. “I’ll wade into the shallows.”

I chose to stay on the bank. “Guess we’ll see who catches the most trout,” I said.

Rex walked off down the riverbank, whistling and stepping over fallen branches. He walked by a pile of driftwood lodged in the water against the riverbank. A “snag” because things can get stuck on them—fishing lines, lures and other gear. Rex disappeared around the bend, his whistling drowned out by the rushing water.

I spotted a calm pool by some rocks—what we fishermen call a hole—and selected a spinning lure for my line. The body of the lure was painted bright yellow with red spots, colors that were supposed to attract fish. A mechanical spinner blade rotated around it to get the trout’s attention. It was my favorite lure and had delivered me some nice catches in the past.

I tromped down to the water in my hip boots and cast upstream. Something white flashed under the surface. Bingo! I pulled back on my rod to set my hook in the fish’s mouth. This is it! I thought. If I didn’t pull out and up in just the right way, I’d lose my fish.

I tugged up on my line. In that instant I could tell my retrieve was too quick. The lure soared up out of the water and the line hooked onto a snag. It wouldn’t budge. Darn! Sometimes a snagged line simply had to be cut, the lure sacrificed for safety’s sake.

Driftwood was soft and brittle, and not always strong enough to support a man’s weight. But I hated to let my favorite lure go so easily. Besides, I could see it, the bright yellow and red body standing out plainly among the driftwood. I had to save it.

Gripping my rod in one hand, I stepped out onto the snag, testing to make sure it would hold me. It looked as steady as many a snag I’d stood on in the past. So far, so good, I thought, taking another step. The lure was almost within reach of my fingers. I leaned forward to grab it.

Snap!