Twas the day after Christmas and I headed out, with my trusty old float tube in search of a trout. Mist hung o're the lake in the crisp morning air, I pulled on my fins and kicked out with a flair.
Armed with my new bait finesse reel and rod, forty pounds of trout lures (some that looked rather odd). I tied on a swimbait colored orange, green, and red, as visions of rainbows swam around in my head.
The water was cold, but that didn't matter, my fingers near frozen, and my teeth set a chatter. When all of a sudden there arose a great splash, I wheeled in the tube, and made a long cast.
I started to reel, gave a pause then a jerk, all the while praying my technique would work. On the third pause it happened, the line went quite tight, the drag started singing, I was in for a fight.
For fifteen long minutes he towed me about, first he ran, then he jumped, and he spat the lure out. And I swear he exclaimed as he swam out of sight, "better luck next year and keep your line tight!"
Happy Holidays guys!
I wrote you all a holiday poem
- Dannicus
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