IT'S NOT THE SIZE OF THE FISH,
IT'S THE SIZE OF THE CATCH. PHOTO: KAYAK KEVIN WHITLEY
EDITOR’S ANGLE
THE SLUMP T
hirty days without a bite. The situation was so bad I’d forsaken all hope. Then I cast into
a clump of marsh grass and my lure got snagged. I didn’t get mad. I didn’t curse. I was way past that. After a lunar cycle without catching a fish,
I couldn’t give up; I couldn’t even take a break. I had to fish harder and more often. My hobby had turned to blind ambition. Snagging my lure in a knotted mess of dead grass and oyster shells didn’t even faze me. I held the rod high over my head and tried to
pop the lure free. The benevolent fish gods can be cruel, too. If nothing else, my skills improved over the slump. I began to appreciate the million little joys of fishing. Considering that the aver- age angler spends about one percent of his time actually engaged with a fish, I learned to love the other 99 percent of the sport. As the slump stretched on I spent more time on
the water. I fished for anything. I fished on pretty days and in crappy weather. Bad day at work,
A LONG COLD WINTER REMINDS US WHY WE LOVE SPRING
traffic, broke-down truck: nothing bothered me. I gave all my change to Jerry’s Kids and helped old ladies across the street trying to bank some good juju. I ditched work. Pissed off my wife. My friends were amused. “Catch anything 2day?” one buddy texted me—he already knew the answer. On social media, I was very unsocial. Working on the Spring issue of Kayak Angler
was a welcome distraction. We redesigned the magazine to include more reviews, more how-to and more of what makes kayak fishing great—be- yond catching fish. Interviewing Dan Rodriguez about his close call on the Pecos River (Miracle on the Pecos, page 18) put my silly little slump in context. Reading coverage of the Hobie World Championships (page 14), I cheered for the vic- tors, but gave contributor Ian Harris a standing ovation for winning the sportsmanship award. Pulling together "Spring Firsts" on page 37 gave me hope that winter would end and the world would be right again.
So, after 30 days without a bite, casting my lure
into another hopeless snag only strengthened my resolve. I thumbed the spool and pulled on the rod to break the line. Then a bit of luck. The jig popped free and landed in the water a
few inches from the bank. I retrieved the slack but the lure was stuck again. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I laughed. Then the snag started to move, ripping line off my reel and spin- ning my kayak 180 degrees. Hooked up! I hooted and hollered; never had a small red-
fish been such a big deal. The slump was over. Without a long cold winter, would spring be so sweet? Ric Burnley is the editor of Kayak Angler maga-
zine. Since the drought ended, he's caught fish on every occasion.
www.kayakanglermag.com…7
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