The subdivision I live in in central Virginia sports a fairly empty (as far as fish go) pond. Six years of second chances on this pond has produced far less than expected. However, the next subdivision links to ours in the back, and they too have a twin pond. Before now, never have I fished this pond, but the knowledge of its significant age instilled high hopes in my mind.
On a wim, I took the last hour of light after spending a day raking leaves and playing with the two new Irish Setter, Maggie and Fiona, to pop over to the pond and fish. My main mission that day was to determine the status of Cunningham Creek (fishy/fishless), but after finding no fish, my interests led me out of the woods to the pond.
On the first cast, against a small grassbed, a short 9" Pickerel inhaled my 2" grub. Pickerel were the last things I was hoping to find here (not because they are not fun to catch, but because they are not prominant many places here), so I released the green missle and placed another long cast outside the grassline. My grup had scarcly hit the water before the line went tight, and limp, just as soon--I was bitten off.
Bummed, because I had no other tackle with me (mistake!), I realized I had brought my fly rod. Two casts with the new 3wt. rigged with a yellow CK nymph brought a football largemouth and a small bluegill to the bank.
About this time the phone rung and it was time for dinner. Disappointed, but anxious to share my story, I headed home in the rain.
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