Years ago I used to do high water dabbling all the time. Now it seems to have lost some of it’s charm. The best place to do it is urban areas, but urban areas mean people which means I can’t relax.
People make me tense.
If I wanted to fish this weekend, I had no choice. The creeks, besides being barren, were all blown out.
The river was just high enough that I didn’t feel like wandering around in 3200 CFS current. I can do it, but why?
So I walked an old familiar wall with 8-10 feet of line out and dabbled a lure vertically along the wall.
There is something to be said for this. Tying into a 16 inch smallie with so little line out gives you one option, lift it out of the water and lip it. This is really why even when casting I keep the casts short. It’s also why I switched to braid years ago.
I don’t play fish to exhaustion and then bring the poor defeated creature to hand.
I get them up next to me as quickly as possible, lip them and let them show all their fury.
These are extremely muscular creatures after all and I want to feel that muscle. Plus, they are pissed and want you to know it.
There’s something about looking a pissed off smallie in the eye. They give it right back. If fish could talk I imagine… okay you sonuvabitch, you won this one, NOW PUT ME BACK IN THE WATER!!!
And I oblige, quickly and efficiently. Kind of. I keep them lipped and put them in the water. What little strength they lost comes back quickly and I release their lip when they’ve had enough of this game.
I usually get a going away bath for my troubles. Which I deserve.
The edge of a wall, amongst all the garbage, if you have eggs in you that have to come out, I guess that will do. I gave her the distance she deserved.
I thought this was funny.
Then, of course, under clear blue skies, the play of light on moving water. This made the wall walking a little precarious. I almost walked off the wall twice after staring at the water too long.