One Cast & Out

Home from college for a few days, I couldn't wait to go catch some bass, so I grabbed my baitcasting outfit (I only owned one at the time) and my tackle box, hopped in my car and drove 45 minutes to a county park where I typically enjoyed good success fishing from the shore.

Eager to get thing started, I parked near a favorite spot, scurried down to the bank and reached back for a long cast. In my haste, though, I failed to check behind me, and on my back swing the lure's hooks firmly grabbed tree limb. When I tried to let my cast rip, the line exploded into the biggest bird's nest I have ever made. (That remains true 20 years later.)

I plopped down on the bank and picked fruitlessly at the backlash for what was probably close to an hour before finally having to acknowledge that the only way to get this one out was with a pocketknife. Having no other rod and reel and no extra spool of line with me, all I could do was get in the car and go back home.

My best guess would be that I was back again the next day and that I probably even caught a few fish. If so, though, the details have escaped me. My "one cast & out" fishing day I will always remember.