It was 42 when we got to the lake. That was also the best water temp we could find.
We started out drifting for trout, moved to trolling for trout, then started casting jerkbaits for bass and pickerel. Alfie caught a 2.5-pound largemouth, which finally broke the ice.
It started to rain, but we all had rain gear.
We had some good laughs, such as when, while watching me haplessly flail with my lure retriever to unhook Alfie’s snagged Rapala X-rap, John said, “Prepare to deploy the lure retriever retriever.”
It wasn’t needed as moments later I snapped Alfie’s line.
Then it started to thunder. That was that.
Lake Moomaw has been a cruel mistress to me. She is so beautiful, and occasionally spectacularly productive. But then she treats me like dirt.
I can’t stay away.