A nice day finds me trekking down an abandoned railroad track with small bridges crossing a slow moving stream. I would stop and fish from these bridges, casting a few times and move on.

 

On one cast I got snagged and thought, "Hmm, I'm going to lose this lure". A few wiggles and the lure was freed. The thought crosses my mind, time to go home, but decided to make one more cast near a stump. This was the fatal mistake, the lure hooked a stump. I sigh, but it is the risk vs reward for the big ones.

 

The only option is to break off the line thereby losing the lure. As I am breaking off the line, I notice the drag adjustment knob extremely loose. Somehow, it came loose and was clinging for dear life on the last thread screw of the spool shaft. I reach to tighten the drag adjustment knob and it slips off and falls into the water.

 

Acting like a juggler, I desperately try to catch the drag adjustment knob in midair before the final plunge. Then like a second ball thrown at the juggler, the spool decides join the drag adjustment knob in aerial gymnastics. I hear two distinct plops in the water. My heart sinks realizing what had just happen.

 

I stand frozen in time and I stare at the drag adjustment knob and spool resting at the bottom never to return. This is awful, definitely time to go home, this is not going well. I got snagged, broke my line, lost my lure, and presently the drag adjustment knob with spool now laying in the watery grave.

 

Reaching for the handle of the tackle box and lifting up, the box opens and the top tray falls out. The latch on the box was not engaged. In utter disbelief, I now watch in slow motion, as the whole top tray filled with lures flies in the air and land in the water.

 

I scream but that did not stop the lures and the top tray from splashing in the water. The top tray lands perfectly in the water like a boat, with a few lures inside, as it lazily floats down the river. I could do nothing but watch.

 

There at the bottom on the river, I could still see some of my precious lures. I'll try to save some of them by snagging them with a large lure of what is left in the tackle box. I kneel on the railroad bridge, lean over and KA-PLOOK! Huh? What was that? Oh no, my car keys fell out of my pocket and land next to the other bathing lures. Attached to my car keys is the remote control for the alarm to the car!

 

While on my knees, I looked to the sky, and put my hands on my head, feeling dejected.

 

It crossed my mind that perhaps I could walk into the water to fetch the items. However, the thought quickly vanished. The water was two to three feet deep with a bottom consisting of a swampy soft mucky bottom. Stepping into and then sinking to depths unknown into this muck did not seem like a good idea. Especially since the current situation was not going well and I did not want to tempt fate.

 

In desperation I finally snag the keys and a couple of lures. I walk back to the car, dry out the alarm as best I could. Pressing the remote does not unlock the car doors, instead it causes the alarm on the car to start sounding off. I open the car hood and disable the deafening alarm.

 

It is said a bad day of fishing is better that a good day at work. However, maybe this day, work was the better option.

On 5/3/2025 at 11:08 AM, Angler Andy said:

A nice day finds me trekking down an abandoned railroad track with small bridges crossing a slow moving stream. I would stop and fish from these bridges, casting a few times and move on.

 

On one cast I got snagged and thought, "Hmm, I'm going to lose this lure". A few wiggles and the lure was freed. The thought crosses my mind, time to go home, but decided to make one more cast near a stump. This was the fatal mistake, the lure hooked a stump. I sigh, but it is the risk vs reward for the big ones.

 

The only option is to break off the line thereby losing the lure. As I am breaking off the line, I notice the drag adjustment knob extremely loose. Somehow, it came loose and was clinging for dear life on the last thread screw of the spool shaft. I reach to tighten the drag adjustment knob and it slips off and falls into the water.

 

Acting like a juggler, I desperately try to catch the drag adjustment knob in midair before the final plunge. Then like a second ball thrown at the juggler, the spool decides join the drag adjustment knob in aerial gymnastics. I hear two distinct plops in the water. My heart sinks realizing what had just happen.

 

I stand frozen in time and I stare at the drag adjustment knob and spool resting at the bottom never to return. This is awful, definitely time to go home, this is not going well. I got snagged, broke my line, lost my lure, and presently the drag adjustment knob with spool now laying in the watery grave.

 

Reaching for the handle of the tackle box and lifting up, the box opens and the top tray falls out. The latch on the box was not engaged. In utter disbelief, I now watch in slow motion, as the whole top tray filled with lures flies in the air and land in the water.

 

I scream but that did not stop the lures and the top tray from splashing in the water. The top tray lands perfectly in the water like a boat, with a few lures inside, as it lazily floats down the river. I could do nothing but watch.

 

There at the bottom on the river, I could still see some of my precious lures. I'll try to save some of them by snagging them with a large lure of what is left in the tackle box. I kneel on the railroad bridge, lean over and KA-PLOOK! Huh? What was that? Oh no, my car keys fell out of my pocket and land next to the other bathing lures. Attached to my car keys is the remote control for the alarm to the car!

 

While on my knees, I looked to the sky, and put my hands on my head, feeling dejected.

 

It crossed my mind that perhaps I could walk into the water to fetch the items. However, the thought quickly vanished. The water was two to three feet deep with a bottom consisting of a swampy soft mucky bottom. Stepping into and then sinking to depths unknown into this muck did not seem like a good idea. Especially since the current situation was not going well and I did not want to tempt fate.

 

In desperation I finally snag the keys and a couple of lures. I walk back to the car, dry out the alarm as best I could. Pressing the remote does not unlock the car doors, instead it causes the alarm on the car to start sounding off. I open the car hood and disable the deafening alarm.

 

It is said a bad day of fishing is better that a good day at work. However, maybe this day, work was the better option.

That sounds terrible.

I had a day where I went back to the truck and it wasn't there. I scratched my head for a while, walked around, then determined I was parked near a NO PARKING sign. I had never seen a cop in this area. I guess maybe a warden called for the tow. I had to call the police to find out where they get towed, then call the guy who towed it and give him $130 cash to get it out. Turns out he knew my cousin and only charged me $90. Swell!

I was tying the boat to the dock one day and as I bent over I forgot to zip my keys into the pocket I store them in on my life jacket. Plop! Straight into ten feet of water between the dock and my boat. A couple of fellows who were pulling up saw the shenanigans and said as I was disrobing, "Wait! I've got a magnet! Let me try that first!" Not sure if he was genuinely wanting to help or just did not want to see me in my skivvies I point where they went in at and after about a minute and a half of fidgeting with it I hear a Clink! He pulls up the keys and saves his eyes and my modesty!

I lost my net a few days ago in eight feet of water, but the water was clear and I hooked with an underspin on my first try. Am I that good? No, I was that lucky!

 

Last spring, I dropped my cell phone into the water. I was soooo sad. So, I decided to paddle to think about what I'd need to do when I got home and I tossed out an underspin to troll it and hooked my PB. I was still so sad playing her that I had zero adrenaline and so I was refrigerator cool landing her.

Last weekend I went fishing in the kayak.

 

I have six vertical homemade rod holders.

 

I was throwing a spinnerbait when I noticed that a lure came out of the hook keeper and was dangling around.

 

I literally said out loud, "Maybe the Lord wants me to throw this".

 

First cast right into a tree. $15 swimbait. Gone.

 

Sometimes I think the Lord tests me. Like daily.