Fishing and the tackle box

As often as I get the chance to go fishing, my tackle box doesn’t see a lot of action.

It’s a well stocked box, with everything a fisherman needs in the boat or on the shore line of a lake, river or stream.

Actually my fishing vest too has all the ingredients needed to stream or lake fish.

However, sometimes the box is jostled about in the shed when I shift things here and there making room for more stuff.

When that happens, look out when the box is opened!

That carefully coiled fishing leader or line isn’t always intact and springs out, hooks and lures usually attached in the mess.

For years I watched my dad get his box ready for the big day just about the time the rest of us already had our lines in the water. He must have dumped his over a bunch of times in the storage shed.

The tedious process untangling a wad of line still attached to hooks, sinker and lures was priceless and worth a photo.

I actually think Dad got more enjoyment sitting at the water’s edge or in the boat while he worked at freeing his stash of favorite tackle. He liked to organize things after they became total disarray.

Quite frankly, I too get almost as much enjoyment doing the same thing, readying my tackle box for the big day. And, if the fish weren’t biting that day, at least I had a clean tackle box.

So the fishing bug has hit me again this year and I can hardly wait to get my tackle box cleaned out. I’m looking forward to this chore because it’s like Christmas all over again. I find lures and stuff in the box I forgot I had — considering the last time I saw it open was two or three years ago. Of course some tackle is missing, hung up on rocks at the bottom of a lake or stream or dangling out of reach in a tree somewhere along a hard-to-get near the water spot.

But, I usually manage to replace what’s missing when the bargains appear at the local tackle shops.

Because I haven’t fished in a few years, the license fees have probably escalated like everything else. I’m going to request a senior discount and see what happens. But, in the meantime, I have a secret fishing hole on a private property that I plan to visit in the early morning sometime this summer.

In the past I’ve had success at several locations including Lake Grace and Lake Nora, public fishing lakes owned by PG&E. Hat Creek is another spot where I’ve netted my limit of trout in a day.

I’m perfectly content to sit on the grey rocks at Shasta Dam and fish for perch or bass, using a cache of worms and red eggs.

I suppose I’ve done most types of fishing, ocean bottom fishing, lake fishing, stream and river fishing as well as pond fishing.

But, I’ve never fly-fished. I guess I would need a lesson to do that. It’s on my bucket list, though, along with a few other things I hope to do before I kick the bucket.

You always want to use fresh eggs if you fish with eggs. I remember my dad’s tackle box still contained fishing eggs that appeared to go back to his childhood. When red eggs go black, there is a sure-fired indication they are not going to lure a fish, no way, no how.

Now worms are a perfect bait to get a trout’s’ attention. Each year, the manure pile from the horses sits and waits for the neighbor to fertilize his garden. While it sits it accumulates an abundance of night crawlers, that is, if the pile stays moist.

In fact, I was planting some flowers recently and scooped a few shovels full of it and low and behold at least a dozen of those wiggly critters were in every scoop.

So, with red eggs and night crawlers, it’s time to go fishing. It’s time to give the rod and reel some exercise, practicing with a sinker cast into the pasture. Look out horses because I’m not as accurate as I used to be and practice is exactly what I need.

A while ago, I won some lures in some kind of silly contest somewhere, but you know, they just might be the lures that hook some big fish.

One thing that I find absolutely necessary is a few pairs of disposable vinyl gloves. I hate the smell of fish on my hands when I have to clean them before placing them on ice for the trip home.