The Thrill Of Victory And The Agony Of Defeat

Some of you may not be old enough to remember the American Sportsman TV Show, but if you do, you know what the title means.

Monday was the thrill of victory with those two big Rainbows.

This morning I set out for Lake Camanche with the Float Tube Cumberland at 0800. My plan was to get one of those big Rainbows on my fly rod and beat my personal best for flyrod which is 2 lbs 8oz. I left a little bit later than normal, but I had trouble getting my turkey and trimmings body out of bed. Over indulged yesterday on all the goodies. The other thing was that I didn't stop to get any coffee (would have been Starbucks) because I wanted to spend more time flippering than having to run back to shore to take a p... every half hour or so. Coffee does that to me. I should have known better.

Got to the lake at 0900 and got the Float Tube Cumberland aired up, all the gear in, and on the water in about 15 minutes.

My first direction was the buoy I had such good luck by on Monday. I had to flipper out beyond the buoy into no man's land (out beyond the 5 mph zone) and fished back toward shore. There were two guys fishing where I was on Monday and I wanted to be out beyond their zone. I figured my best bet was the tried and true Thinmint. I didn't get any interest, so I put down my fly rod and used my Okuma with a new rainbow pink Kastmaster. Nothing again.

Set out for the point and fished the Thinmint all the way. Got to the point and did a 360 making sure I covered all the area, like I did the last time (where I had two on and lost both), then proceeded back toward where I put in. Not so much as a bump. I watched the people fishing from the shore (and there was bunch of them), but I didn't see any fish coming to hand. Got back almost to put in and finally got the first and only bump of the day. I sat there for, probably a half hour spinning 360's and trying to find the one that bumped. No such luck.

By that time it was Noon, my feet were cold (forgot to put on my wool socks), my legs were starting to cramp (lack of flippering practice), and my stomach was growling (you wouldn't think, after all that turkey I ate yesterday), but I put in and hauled out the Cumberland.

Since I was already there, I pulled out a couple of my rods with 4# and slip sinker rigs, my red chair, and tacklebox and sat for an hour or so with Power Bait on one and Kastmasters on the other.

Today was the agony of defeat. There wasn't a fish to be found. Felt kind of like that guy on The American Sportsman who wiped out on the ski jump. He lived, by the way.

It's a good thing I'm an optimist. There's always next time.

Till then.

Mark