Almost forgot about this blog... Been real busy trying to get everything ready for the upcoming fishing season which opens this coming weekend. Hoping to get out for some Walleye fishing on Sunday... Oh Shit! Mother's Day isn't it??? Oh well better get something real nice for the wife.
Between getting the boat ready, stocking up on tackle, tunning up reels, planning out practice and travel schedules, closing endorsement deals with new sponsors... it has been interesting. Although it may seem I have forgotten what fishing is really about, it is the total opposite. I am just itching to get out there and wet a line.
I would like to take an opportunity to once again thank our new sponsors, Valvoline, Apple Auto Glass, Bourk's Car Care, and Skeeter Boats for their generous support.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Now here I am.
Bitten by the bug of tournament bass fishing.
Bass boat - 50,o00$
Rods, reels, tackle - 10,000$
Event entry fees 6,000$
Getting up at 3:30 am on Sundays for the last 3 years to get to the next tournament - pointless
Entering my third season of competitive bass fishing, I am excited as the first day I ever wet a line. There something to be said about spending all week long day dreaming about pulling up to the launch at 5am... seiing that endless row of red tail lights... paying your hard earned money...sitting out on the water for an hour waiting for blast off... taking a peak at last Sunday's winners rods to see what baits they will be throwing on this day... you rig up all of your 10 rods and wait for them to call your start number... get a nose full of that 2 stroke engine oil cloud...high five my partner and tell him, " Let's get'm "... punch the gas and enjoy the 70mph race to the first spot of the day... setting the hook on that critical first fish of the day, establishing a pattern and having our 5 bass limit in the box by 11am... have one of my co-angler's amazing sandwiches... throw on a good CD and enjoy a beautiful sunny day of bass fishing.
I must say. That is priceless.
Bitten by the bug of tournament bass fishing.
Bass boat - 50,o00$
Rods, reels, tackle - 10,000$
Event entry fees 6,000$
Getting up at 3:30 am on Sundays for the last 3 years to get to the next tournament - pointless
Entering my third season of competitive bass fishing, I am excited as the first day I ever wet a line. There something to be said about spending all week long day dreaming about pulling up to the launch at 5am... seiing that endless row of red tail lights... paying your hard earned money...sitting out on the water for an hour waiting for blast off... taking a peak at last Sunday's winners rods to see what baits they will be throwing on this day... you rig up all of your 10 rods and wait for them to call your start number... get a nose full of that 2 stroke engine oil cloud...high five my partner and tell him, " Let's get'm "... punch the gas and enjoy the 70mph race to the first spot of the day... setting the hook on that critical first fish of the day, establishing a pattern and having our 5 bass limit in the box by 11am... have one of my co-angler's amazing sandwiches... throw on a good CD and enjoy a beautiful sunny day of bass fishing.
I must say. That is priceless.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
My First Time
My passion for fishing began when I was 8 years old.
It was an early Saturday morning at our cottage in Val Des Bois, Quebec and I wanted to go fishing but my dad's pounding headache from too many Labatt 50's the night before guilted my mom (in her nightie and with a pack of smokes in one hand), to get in the rowboat and take me out on the river. She paddled up and down for at least two hours while I trolled a yellow beetle when I hooked into a 5-pound walleye!
Back to the cottage with the walleye still on the line because neither of us knew how to take a fish off and we took the whole thing to my dad (still passed out on the sofa).
"Dad! Dad! Lookit what I caught!"
My father's jolted-awake response?
"HOLY. FUCK."
Years of dreaming of being the guy flying around the lake at 70 mph have passed since then, and every time the line twitches it brings me back to that day and I feel the same adrenaline rush and excitement.
Just for the record? I've since learned how to take fish off the hook.
It was an early Saturday morning at our cottage in Val Des Bois, Quebec and I wanted to go fishing but my dad's pounding headache from too many Labatt 50's the night before guilted my mom (in her nightie and with a pack of smokes in one hand), to get in the rowboat and take me out on the river. She paddled up and down for at least two hours while I trolled a yellow beetle when I hooked into a 5-pound walleye!
Back to the cottage with the walleye still on the line because neither of us knew how to take a fish off and we took the whole thing to my dad (still passed out on the sofa).
"Dad! Dad! Lookit what I caught!"
My father's jolted-awake response?
"HOLY. FUCK."
Years of dreaming of being the guy flying around the lake at 70 mph have passed since then, and every time the line twitches it brings me back to that day and I feel the same adrenaline rush and excitement.
Just for the record? I've since learned how to take fish off the hook.
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