Antifreeze Fishing
The thermometer outside my kitchen window wasnt much more than a little red stub this morning. My old hound dogs water bowl in the garage held a solid chunk of ice. By the time I tugged the stiff cover off my boat, hooked up the trailer, and slid into my rig, I was shivering so violently that I had trouble fitting the key in the ignition. Ears stung and wooden fingers were stiff from cold. I cranked the heater on full blast, but several excruciating minutes passed before the warm blast thawed out my hands and limbered up my knees.
Am I nuts? Maybe I should leave the lake to Old Man Winter on these chilly morning. He clearly likes to have the water all to his own in January. Why do I scrape the thick frost off my windshield, load up the boat, and risk slipping on an icy ramp this time of year?
Only two things can get me out of the house and on the water in January: a good chance at the biggest fish of the year and memories of spectacular mid-winter fishing trips of years past. So tempting are these that the short hours of winter daylight find me on the Tennessee River below Watts Bar, Nickajack, or Chickamauga dams or on the headwaters of TVA impoundments two or three days a week. [Read More]