Elnut...sorry to hear about your luck man...Here's to you and hoping you have a quick recovery...

I don't have any fishing stories to share really, oh I don't know, I probably have a few, but I guess since I know the stories and was an actual character in the stories they don't sound all that appealing to me as far as trying to tell someone about them.

About a year or so ago, maybe twow years ago, it was in the fall is all I can remember. It was October and there was a storm moving in. I was fishing at my sisters farm pond. I have never been skunked there, but on this particular occassion I couldn't help but catch fish...I was catching truly nice largemouth, one right after the other and then the four pounder hit. Man, light tackle, 6lb test and a 1/4 ounce chartrueuse spinner bait, needless to say that was one mighty decent little fight I had.

Most all of my good stories relate to Lake Cumberland when I was a kid, at least to me they are good stories anyway, or maybe I just remember them being good times. Dad took the entire family there whether we all wanted to go or not, sometimes it was just he and that I went. The best trips were when he took me and his uncle (my great uncle)...my great uncle could flat out catch fish on just about any given day under any circumstances, or so it seemed to me anyway. I can remember fishing for hybrid srtipers in the jumps...this was back in the 60's/early 70's. Dad had a 16' jonboat with a 33 horse Johnson that to seemed to me to flat out fly...I remember being in this one particular creek along with several other fisherman and suddenly the water started boiling within sight of where we were, not within casting distance but within sight. I remember dad telling me to get my line in while he simultaneously stood up and pulled the rope on that 33 horse...after about the 2nd or 3rd pull she fired up and dad pretty much gunned it...he turned the motor off a ways from where the boiling was taking place and we started throwing Shysters...left and right, backwards, forwards, you name it...we didn't have a cooler nor a livewell or anything like that. Well, there was a cooler but dad and "Unc" had it stocked with beer. None the less, we were catching fish at such a rapid pace that all we could do was to get them off the hook and throw them in the bottom of the boat. This is no lie...the bottom of the boat was a mess, fish were every where...I know someone here might mention creel and size limits to me but give me a break, this was way back in the 60's and as for me, I didn't have to have a license anyway. Dad and Unc were pretty good fisherman so I'm sure they obeyed the regulations set in place at the time.

Unc passed away at an early age when I was a teenager, dad is still around although as he approaches 80 years old he will be going on dialysis anytime here real soon.

Anyway's, I don't know if this is a tribute to my dad on Easter Sunday or just helping out a fellow fisherman who is shut-in at home and trying to recover from an emergency surgery...at any rate, fish on men, happy Easter and God bless...