minner
Well-known member
I hardly think this merits calling it fishing report but figured I'd report never the less.
At 8:45a.m. we put in Raccoon Mtn. Sat. and headed up river for a look around. After looking at few different spots, I marked fish on the fishfinder and started fishing which is about the time the wind came up. 20 minutes into it I had to give the spot up because the wind was so fierce. In the mean time I met Beebasser who was on his was to claim whatever would bite. (Nice to meet you Beebasser). On up river I went and back down I came with wind at my heals. At one point the cross wind was so bad my partner and I watched barge, as it tried to creep around a bend, be slammed by the cross wind eventually causing the barge to run a ground; there wasn't much he could have done about it. We decided that the trusty Kenner couldn't dislodge the disabled barge emoBigsmile and left him be in search more ground. Back to the landing at Raccoon we went, loaded and headed out. We decided to give Shell Mound a go about the time two bass tournaments were coming in; either for the weigh in or retreating from the gale force winds. Thinking we had enough testicular fortitude to challenge Mother Nature, we launched amongst the drenched bass boaters. We blasted through wind and wave to the big bluff (no idea what it's called) where we'd planned to settle and catch our first fish of the day. As we came off plane, and began prepping our gear, the first of a series of waves began to crash over the bow. At this time I believe my partners words were "%$&# this" and we repacked our gear and headed back for the ramp.
To sum it up, 1 bag of frozen Skipjack, 40 miles of water, 2 wind burned faces and ZERO catfish later we headed for home.
At 8:45a.m. we put in Raccoon Mtn. Sat. and headed up river for a look around. After looking at few different spots, I marked fish on the fishfinder and started fishing which is about the time the wind came up. 20 minutes into it I had to give the spot up because the wind was so fierce. In the mean time I met Beebasser who was on his was to claim whatever would bite. (Nice to meet you Beebasser). On up river I went and back down I came with wind at my heals. At one point the cross wind was so bad my partner and I watched barge, as it tried to creep around a bend, be slammed by the cross wind eventually causing the barge to run a ground; there wasn't much he could have done about it. We decided that the trusty Kenner couldn't dislodge the disabled barge emoBigsmile and left him be in search more ground. Back to the landing at Raccoon we went, loaded and headed out. We decided to give Shell Mound a go about the time two bass tournaments were coming in; either for the weigh in or retreating from the gale force winds. Thinking we had enough testicular fortitude to challenge Mother Nature, we launched amongst the drenched bass boaters. We blasted through wind and wave to the big bluff (no idea what it's called) where we'd planned to settle and catch our first fish of the day. As we came off plane, and began prepping our gear, the first of a series of waves began to crash over the bow. At this time I believe my partners words were "%$&# this" and we repacked our gear and headed back for the ramp.
To sum it up, 1 bag of frozen Skipjack, 40 miles of water, 2 wind burned faces and ZERO catfish later we headed for home.
