As I sit here and write this, the wind is howling outside. The temperature is a crisp, down right cold, 23 degrees. Snow fell yesterday for the second time this week. Yet, despite the conditions, all I can think about is warm water fishing. Not trout but bass and not just any bass but smallmouth bass. I am having some serious withdrawal symptoms as of late. All I can think about is smallmouth bass and top water, top water, top water. I need to have an explosive strike. I need to see it. I need to feel it. I need that tug on the end of my line like a crack addict needs another rock. Too much? Maybe. Sorry about that but you get the idea. I want to see the water boil as the smallie rips through it on the way to crush my popper. Sadly, this is not to be. I will not be throwing top water here in Maryland until at least May at the earliest. That, of course, assumes a mild Winter and Spring. Since I have only bad luck, I am going to say that that will be out of the question. Now I know some of you are asking yourself why doesn't he just fish for trout? Am I right? Of course I am and I will believe me. I do like fishing for trout. Sometimes their unwillingness to eat a fly is just as endearing as a smallies willingness to eat a popper. Each can and are special in their own right. I am, however, a warm water fly fisherman at heart now and as such I want to do some warm water fishing. I may need to move the family to a state that will allow me to fish for my beloved year round.
Since I can't fish for them, why not tie for them. Great idea, right? Yea I thought so. However, last Sunday, my son got sick. The tying area is in the spare bedroom since it has a television and the most room. Well when he got sick, he stayed in there until yesterday. Apparently in my advanced adult life I have become a germaphobe because I refuse to enter the room. I just will not do it until Melissa cleans it from ceiling to floor, stem to stern. So no tying either.
I do have some DVDs to watch and Youtube is also available. For now I will have to live vicariously through movies until Mother Nature allows me the chance to throw poppers at my favorite fish.