Leaving Arkansas to chase one epic adventure in Texas!

Leaving Arkansas to chase one epic adventure in Texas!

When I told people I’d made plans to go fish with some friends in Texas, they all asked the same question, “What all are you going to do?” And my answer was always the same: “I don’t know.” And I truly didn’t. It had been two years since we’d gotten together to fish, I got tired of it, so I hit up my friend Charlie (@digitalwells) and said, “I want to come fishing with you guys in Texas.” He said, “Okay,” and that’s about as far as our plans went. But I think that’s how it’s supposed to be. Real adventure begins when you reach the end of your plans and have to cross into the unknown.

I didn’t know what the weekend would hold, but I knew it would be fun. And that I’d make memories that lasted forever. But don’t let me mislead you. This wasn’t the bright sky, smooth water trip you may be picturing in your head. I wasn’t the only thing that showed up in Texas the Friday I arrived. Rain did too. Literally from the moment I parked and met Charlie at our first spot, the rain started and didn’t stop. But neither did the bite. That first day, we only had a few hours to fish before dark, so Charlie took us to a place where we could get on fish fast. And we did. In the slow drizzle of the incoming front, we hammered them on Chatterbaits in submerged grass. Unfortunately we had to leave prematurely because of the rain and the sun going down, but that left me dying to get on the water the next day.

Early in the morning on Saturday we hit the water; the slow drizzle from the day before had now become a steady downpour. But we were there to fish and we would not be denied. Our other buddy Carlos (@lonestarkayakfishing) met us there and we all put in. The morning went pretty slow. Charlie caught none, but broke off a giant, I had two that weren’t anything to talk about, and Carlos landed a 5. It seemed the rain was attempting to foreshadow the muck we would have that day. But we shifted to another side of the lake, and while the skies may have been cold and gray, things heated up for me. I was able to land a nice 4lb Texas largemouth off the main lake point before Charlie suggested we go look for bedding fish.


We meandered through coves looking for bright spots when we hit the mother load. As we came into this particular small cove, there were visible beds everywhere. Now to this point, I’d never bed fished before. All I knew about how to do it is what I’d seen in YouTube. But again, adventure begins when you have to cross into the unknown. I tied on a white, Texas rigged craw, and rolled up to my first bed. I could see a decent sized fish sitting in the center of a clean patch of ground beneath the surface.

I pitched once… nothing. I pitched again… nothing. “Am I doing this right? Do I hop it? Let it sit? How do I do this?” I pitched again… thump. I watched my white craw disappear into the black silhouette I’d been throwing at and I yanked on it. I cannot describe the rush of adrenaline that hit in that moment. I could barely keep myself under control I was so excited. There are a handful of fish that you remember catching your whole life. And while this near 4lb bed fish wasn’t a giant by most people’s standards, it’s one I’ll never forget. Getting that fish in the boat was everything I wanted that trip to be; going into the unknown, doing something I don’t usually do, and having it all pay off. I didn’t even notice that the rain had stopped.

I pulled 3 more bed fish from that cove before our time ran out and we had to pack it in for the day. And I was, again, left wanting more.

But that’s the best part of adventure. Just when you feel like you’ve reached the top of the mountain, you look out and discover there’s more peaks to climb. And when your mind says, “What’s at the top of that one?” let your heart respond, “I don’t know. Let’s find out.”