MikeA57

Well guys, my sons got me the Pflueger President 6935B reel for Father's Day! It's completely encased in it's clear, impact resistant, bombproof, titanium outer protective shell (what in the world is UP with manufactu rers today and how they package stuff????) so I haven't broken through yet but before I do i'm wondering if I should opt for the 6940 model or not. The rod will handle 6-14 lb line and the 6935 handles 10 lb max mono and 14 lb max on braid. The 6940 OTOH, will carry 12 lb max mono and 20 lb max braid. My wife said that all Dick's had was the 6935 so i'd probably have to special order it from them or return it and go somewhere else to get the 40. I just had in my mind to use 12 lb test on the setup which the 35 will do but the 40 would allow me more options. Just wondering if the 40 would be too big for that rod. I have not handled any of the president's line yet but my oldest son (16 yrs old) said the one they picked up is real smooth.

Yesterday we stopped by Dick's and I wandered over to the fishing department to look at rods. Noticed a section with all their new 2014 rods and found a 7' spinning rod for $15 so I grabbed it. It's a Daiwa Sweepfire 702 mfs rod with these specs: Model Length Number Power Action (Feet) Pieces Line Wt. (Lb.) Lure Wt. (Ounces) No. Guides SWC 702MFS MH F 7' 2 6 - 14 1/8 - 3/4 6 It's fiberglass, not graphite and I know it's not a high dollar rod by any means but I'm at the point in my life where my 16 year old son keeps grabbing my good Fenwick HMG casting rods and I'm hoping that this new one will tempt him more and make him quit using the good ones. But now I need a reel for my it. I don't have any problem with spending more money on this reel, say top out around $80. So what would be a good fit for this rod? I've heard good things about Okuma and looked (online) at an Avenger - B at Academy and yesterday I played with a couple different ones at Dick's but nothing rang my bell. I didn't like the ABU-GARCIA Cardinal STX at all but the Revo I really liked. I just didn't want to spend that much money on a reel for a $15 rod. I'm a longtime Mitchell fan but I'm not so sure about their newer offereings. I had an old 308 about 8 years ago that just kind of fell apart after a couple years of light use and I just got a bad taste in my mouth for them. I plan on putting Braid on this combination and use it for frogging and just general use. Does anyone have any suggestions?

Right side of repair...

Left side of repair...

Years ago my uncle backed our boat trailer into a tree and bent the tubing. He had it repaired and they added a piece back in where the bend was then put a collar on it as you can see in the picture. This trailer is almost 60 years old now and still going strong. I refurbed it a couple of years ago and it still runs true and doesn't wear tires.

Just a question that's related to this; would a magic eraser be helpful in taking off light scuffs and marks that the wipe down couldn't handle in between annual cleanings and waxes?

BINGO Jeff! That shad run was at least a hundred yards long and about 30 yards wide. On the FF it showed they averaged 4-6 ft deep to. There must've been a hundred million of those suckers in there. It'd been a long time since I'd seen a blow up like that.

This is a question not only about bass fishing but also crappie fishing. A couple of months ago a buddy and I went crappie fishing and in the morning we had trouble finding fish. It just seemed like they were non-existent anywhere we went. We scouted and looked, went from place to place and there were no fish (and no baitfsh) to be found anywhere even though my buddy had been to this same lake two days before and had limited out in just a few hours. On this day, they were nowhere. We kind of set back for a minute had a bite of lunch and then started going back around to the same spots we'd looked at earlier and then in one area (around some boat docks of residents on the lake) all the sudden there were MILLIONS of shad. The gulls started dive bombing the place, and baitfish were so thick that it made the fish finder act like the school was a hard bottom although we could see fish under them. We'd drop our jigs down through the school right into the same depth as the fish and go nothing. Not one bite. We couldn't buy a bite. It was like the fish had so much food to choose from that they didn't even see ours even when we put it right in front of their noses. We had the same thing happen a couple of years ago while bass fishing. Huge schools of shad had assembled late in the day and the bass were tearing them up. We were throwing every kind of bait we could think of into the schools hoping that they'd hit and we got NOTHIN'. They just had no interest in anything at all we pitched at them. Here's a cellphone video of just a little bit of what we were seeing on this particular day. http://s240.photobucket.com/user/MikeA57/media/PICKWICK%20TRIP/PickwickTrip.mp4.html So, what do you guys do in a situation like this? This was so frustrating to see so many fish in both instances and not even be able to get them to bite. Thanks, Mike

Pic of the bunk slicks...

When I rebuilt my trailer it had roller bunks. I took the rollers out then replaced them with full sized 2"x4" cypress boards. On top of the cypress I laid a layer of the white composite material called bunk slicks. It's held up great so far. This is on a 1956 Holsclaw trailer that was 50+ years old when I rebuilt it and I expect it to last another 50+ years!

I have a 14' Lowe Big Jon that I was bequeathed by my Dad when he passed. It's a 1981 model and he died in '85. He bought it and spent the next couple of years putting a deck and floor in it, adding 1 of the first digital fish finders, and a foot controlled trolling motor. He got to use the 3 times and got sick and died 6 months later. I've had it all these years since then, but I can honestly say that I haven't used it like I should have. I'm in the midst of resurrecting it now. Have you got any plans for yours? I wish mine was at least a 16'! Mike

--- Al's Bait Shop --- To a 5 year old boy it was a place of wonder. I didn't get to go there often, but when my Dad or Uncle Charlie would say, "Let's ride out to Uncle Dave's!", I knew exactly what that meant and I'd get so excited I couldn't wait to get there. It was usually on a Thursday evening that we would go there. Every Thursday night was Uncle Charlie's night to come out and visit us. And Uncle Dave wasn't my uncle, and I don't even think he was closely related, but he was related somehow. Heck, even Uncle Charlie wasn't really my uncle, he was my Dad's cousin, but they were like brothers and when I was born he became another uncle to me. All I can say is, everyone should have an Uncle Charlie like mine... The trip there always seemed to take so long. In reality I guess it took about half an hour and after so many visits there, I began to know the route we'd take and I'd look forward to each landmark I'd memorized. On those Thursday nights when we would go, once we would arrive I would be the first out the door of that '57 Chevy Bel-Air or Uncle Charlie's 1961 Impala station wagon and I'd run for the door of Al's Bait Shop. I can remember it just getting dark by the time we got there, or if it was summer it would be just getting dark as we would leave to go home. The shop itself was old even back in 1963 when this story was set. It was a small building, with a concrete block front that stair stepped up to a flat point at the top. A window on each side of the door with neon beer signs flashing and, if I remember correctly, 2 old gas pumps out front. An ice machine stood guard out front and there were cane poles hung along the front of the building. It wasn't decrepit yet, but it was on it's way. But that's just the way things were back then. They'd get old and people would do just what was needed to keep the rain and the cold out. When I'd open that door the bell on the string tied to the inside handle would ring announcing the arrival of anyone who came in. Inside, there was a coziness to the room that was just as comfortable to me as my home. The place had 6 or 8 small tables with chairs and there was always at least a few older men there smoking and drinking beer. It was a beer joint as much as it was a bait shop. The smoke hung thick in the room hovering above my head and making it seem darker than it would have if there hadn't been anyone smoking in there. The smell was of old cigarette smoke and old beer, Falstaff, Oertel's and Falls City were the brands flashing in neon not only in the windows but also around the perimeter of the room. To me, the smell was dirty yet magical and even today if I catch a whiff of that combination of smoke and beer it transports me back to Al's Bait Shop. Along both side walls and straight ahead of me and lining the walls up near the ceiling were items such as minnow buckets, nets with floats sewn in, collapsable fish baskets, and all sorts of relics. Of course, there were the required trophies hung there as well, largemouth and smallmouth bass, crappie, bream, and even a large snapping turtle that I would stand and stare at in awe. If only I could catch one of any of those that big!! Uncle Dave always had a big smile and laughed as I came busting through the door. He'd stick his head through the curtains in the back into the little apartment where he and Aunt Alma lived and announce our arrival to her. She'd come bustling out to greet us and made small talk with Dad and Uncle Charlie. I had my mind on one thing though. It was the reason I loved to come to Al's Bait Shop. In the center of the counter straight ahead of me was the most wonderul piece of technological hardware that had ever been invented, at least to a 5 year old boy who lived to fish. It was a glass display case that had about 15 rows of bins that would rotate around, spinning silently as light from the flourescent fixture shone down onto the items it contained. In each bin was a shiny new artificial lure. It seemed like hundreds of them! Heddon Lucky 13's, Crazy Crawlers, Tiny Torpedos, River Runts, Hula Poppers, Smithwick Devil's Horse, Rapala Minnows, Creek Chubs, Lazy Ikes, lures of all kinds and colors. I'd run right up to that display case and just stare, watching the trays slowly spin around displaying their wares. This was a sight that just boggled the mind of this young boy. The only other place I knew that had almost as many lures was in Uncle Charlie's big hip roofed Kennedy tackle box. When I would visit him at the house he had grown up in and where he still lived with his mother (he never married), I would spend most of my time up in his room poring through his tackle box and memorizing the name of every lure in it. I can remember there were 2 or three times when I would be there at Uncle Dave's that he would tell me, "Pick one out, boy!" I got so excited it took me forever to make up my mind which one I wanted. It didn't happen often but that's one special memory that has stuck with me all these years. After I'd made my selection, Aunt Alma would tell me to get a "coke" out of the cooler. These were the old long coolers with 3 or 4 divided bins with chilled drinks stored in them. Back then in Kentucky, a "coke" was a universal term for any soda drink. I could barely slide open the doors to the cooler and there was no way I could reach down into the depths of the cooler to make my choice. So Dad or Uncle Charlie would reach in and grab it for me when I made my up my mind. And my choice was always either a Nehi Grape or Orange, two of my favorites back then along with a frosty mug of A&W Root Beer which was also along Dixie Highway. At some point, we were always invited back into the little apartment where Uncle Dave and Aunt Alma lived. It too, was small but comfortable. She'd always have a bowl of candy set out on the coffee table or end table by the couch and would encourage me to eat as much as I wanted. I'd stay a few minutes but the call of the bait shop lured me back out to where I could pore over the wares stocked there. He seemed to have everything a fisherman or hunter could want. Hooks, sinkers, fishing line, rods, reels, coolers, trolling motors, tackle boxes, camping gear, ammo, a few guns, anything and everything I would need to strike out on my own and make it in the wilds. We'd usually stay an hour or so, with Dad, Uncle Charlie and Uncle Dave talking and laughing. At some point though it would be time to go. If it was one of those magical nights where I was lucky enough to have been given a new lure, I would always thank Uncle Dave and Aunt Alma with a big "Thank You!" and a hug. Then we would get in the car and head back home. I was usually asleep before we'd gone far at all. Dad would carry me into the house with me still tightly clutching that magical lure. I remember one time when I was a little older and I had recently had a birthday. I had saved some of my birthday money just to go to Al's Bait Shop and buy me a lure. I was so proud to walk in that small store and march up to the counter, and study the selection before me. As I handed over my $2 for that green and black spotted Hula Popper Uncle Dave exclaimed, "Oh, he's growing up! He's got his own money now!" As the years have passed I've thought less and less about Al's Bait Shop but when I do it always brings a smile to my face and sometimes I'm even able to travel back and conjure up those feelings of awe and wonder of visiting Uncle Dave, Aunt Alma and Al's Bait Shop on Dixie Highway in Louisville, KY. Epilogue As an adult I went back out to where the old bait shop stood and, remarkebly, it's still a bait shop and even more remarkebly it's still called Al's!