My dream (almost)

I've always dreamed about a big tournament where no one had any practice time. Well, it almost came true this time. I just got to the ramp and found out that our tournament has been moved from the Arkansas River to Fort Gibson Lake. 

Almost true is the operative phrase here. We'll have one day of practice, or at least that's the way I understand things at this time. That's not the same as no practice, but it's pretty close, especially when very few of us know anything about Fort Gibson Lake. I'll have to check a map to see where the place is located. One of the guys said it was close.

It's kind of neat when you stop to think about it. We'll all have to fish, practice and learn at the same time. It's more like a real tournament, or an event when everyone is in the same boat, so to speak. Ray Scott is probably sitting at home smiling as he thinks about it. You know he approves.

There's a crazy side to this story, though. I was actually catching fish on the river. Yesterday I would have had a solid limit of five bass and today I would have had three good ones including a 4-pounder. Given the conditions, that's not half bad. They were all over my Tiny Torpedo, smashing it. I even caught one with no hooks on my bait. She grabbed the bait so hard it stuck in her throat. I was on bass. Sometimes you can't win for losing.

Nevertheless, BASS made the right decision. There's stuff as big as telephone poles floating down the main river and the current is dangerously strong. It would be really easy for someone to get hurt. We don't need that. Actually, I hit something coming in and feel more vibration than I should. That might be a problem.

The lightening was so bad today that I parked my boat in a small cove and put my head down between my legs until it passed. A couple of other guys beached their boats and ran into a little camper up on the shore. It was serious stuff.

The water's high, too. The ramp I launched from this morning isn't there anymore. It looks like the parking lot drops directly into the water. In some ways all this reminds me of back home fishing the Ohio River when it gets nasty — except that if I was home I wouldn't have caught eight keepers in the last two days. And for sure I wouldn't have caught a 4-pounder. We were all fishing on top of each other, and it was only going to get worse. There just wasn't much fishable water. These backwaters don't clear like they do in some rivers. They just keep getting worse. Anyway, tomorrow's another day on another fishery. Wish me luck.

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