How’s this for intimidation? My mom snapped this photo on a fence in England that leads down to some prime trout water. Apparently, this creek is protected by killer flesh eating lambs from hell…
Bizarre and oh so funny…until one of the cute little buggers gnaws off your leg! So, before trespassing, I guess you have to ask yourself one thing: Do I feel lucky? Well do ya punk??
If you could go back in time to the 1940’s and 1950’s, you would find a very different looking Los Angeles River than you see today.
Back then, the river was free-flowing and hosted a robust run of steelhead. Hard to believe these days since the poor dilapidated river has been reduced to a graffiti covered concrete drainage ditch in the heart of massive urban sprawl. Now, broken bottles and diapers are the norm…not chrome ocean-run rainbows.
But there are parts of the stream…upstream of downtown LA…that still kinda resemble an actual river. I spent some time exploring one such reach on Friday. It was exciting to see that there is still a bit of river left.
And it was thriving with waterfowl, plus many fish eating birds like cormorants, herons and egrets. In the slow pools, there were clouds of minnows and some slightly larger fish as well. In fact some folks were even fishing. I wanted to believe that the fish were schools of steelhead fry but I of course knew better.
As cool as it was to see so much wildlife mere feet from a e-waste recycling center and roaring I-5, it was also so damned depressing to see how destroyed this once amazing waterway is. So, it was with mixed emotions that explored this area. Here’s a photo essay of my trek…
I get pretty tired of your basic “Look, Bubba I got another one” type of hunting and fishing shows. After awhile, they’re all the same. But every once in a while, something cool comes along that I just can’t miss. Leave it to our resident wild game cooking guru, Scott “The Sporting Chef” Leysath, to bring us a refreshingly kooky and thoroughly watchable new series called DEAD MEAT on the Sportsman’s Channel in which he goes out and hunts and fishes for the most disgusting, bizarre critters and then turns them into delicious meals…I guarantee, you’ll get hooked on it!
So, what makes me the most crazy on a fishing trip is that delicious anticipation before the first grab of the day. Watching the rhythmic pulse of a rid tip as a plug dives deep into a hole of chromers is an intense sensation.
My stomach gets nervous…almost queasy…as I stare at the tip, willing it to go down. The desire to see it double over is so strong…I can’t take it! Then, the tip hesitates or slightly dips as the lure hits a rock or a faster piece of current and my heart nearly jumps out of my chest.
This is killing me. I have to take a deep breath and look at something else for a minute. We’ve only been in the water 10 minutes and I’m already a wreck. Why do I torture myself so?
And then it happens.
The tip goes down once…twice…and then buries. There’s that unmistakable sound of a loaded road straining against the holder and braid coming off the reel in short, strong bursts…
The itch had been scratched but it’s insatiable. As soon as this fish is in the bag, I’m jonesing for the next one, uneasily watching tips throb, living on that sweet drug that is anticipation…