Hey Hall of Fame Family,
I hope this blog post finds you all warm and well. Christmas and New Years are quickly approaching, and it is a busy time of year for everyone. I have been working a lot of overtime at my other job, and last Saturday was my first day off in two weeks. I was stoked to have some free time, and I knew I had to spend the day fishing. Paul was also off work, so we decided to take the kayaks out on our home body of water, Canyon Lake. Terrible weather had been forecasted for that Saturday, but we didn't care. We even tried to get our cousin Jordan in on the day trip with us, but the heavy rain, wind gusts and cold weather in the forecast scared him off. Paul and I thought to ourselves, "Maybe he'll regret not coming along; sometimes you've just gotta scratch that itch."
We loaded up the kayaks and our gear on Friday night. It was cold and in the 30s, but the rain had not yet arrived. By 4 AM the next morning, Paul and I were on the road. Now it was raining, and the rain was there to stay. As we pulled up to Canyon Lake at around 6 in the morning, it was a brisk 34 degrees and the sun had not yet come up. It was still raining considerably, but it was also incredibly windy. I wondered how our kayaks would fare. Canyon Lake is full of stumps and trees just below the surface of the water, and it's easy to get blown up onto one without even trying. We pushed off the ramp just before the sun was coming up. I started off throwing a shad rap, hoping to find crappie near the boat ramp (I didn't). Paul was throwing a football jig, and quickly caught two bass within the first 20 minutes. I followed suit and casted the football jig I also had tied on another rod. On the second or third cast, I dragged my jig over the top of a jog and I was on! I landed a small bass, and I had a glimmer of hope that Paul and I might actually catch some fish. As we rounded the first bend on the lake, we found it increasingly difficult to keep our kayaks in position while slowly working a jig off the bottom. The wind channels through that section of the lake, causing gusts even with light to moderate wind speeds. We'd take a cast, and within two or three bounces of the jig our kayak would be drifting 180 degrees away from the direction of cast. After a couple more hours of getting consistently rained on and blown all over the lake, we'd had enough. We didn't catch any more fish, just those little ones early in the morning. Honestly, we could've gone home then and had the same results.
Paul was literally shivering as I pulled the truck up to the ramp. We spent probably half an hour just warming up in the truck, heat on full blast. Our hands were so numb that it was hard to open and close our fists. It was even hard to grip a paddle by the end. Conditions were not improving. It was 35 degrees, very windy, raining, and we were wet. We didn't give up, though! After finally loading up the kayaks and pulling off the ramp, it was time to do some pond hopping. We bounced around six other smaller lakes near Canyon Lake, most of them frozen. We had not had another bite. By around 2 pm, we wanted to make one last stand in the kayak. We pulled up to another larger, unfrozen lake. This spot is very public and well known. Paul and I have fished this lake on several occasions in the past from a johnboat with unremarkable success. Our confidence was low, but it was still worth a shot. Our kayaks were on the water and we paddled towards the dam. I kept throwing the jig and shad rap tied on, but to no avail. While out on that last lake, it reached a high temperature for the day: 41 degrees. After a couple more hours out in the brutal wind, cold, and rain, the sun was setting and it was time to waive the white flag.
Paul and I spent almost 10 hours on the water that day, and it was some of the most unpleasant conditions I've fished in this year. A good bit of time was spent just trying to get warm in the truck, too. We really wanted to make our cousin regret not coming with us, hoping that we would catch tons of fish. We did not, just three small green ones to be exact. But in the end, I am still glad I went out and I do not regret going whatsoever. There's nobody I'd want to suffer through horrid weather in a kayak like that than my brother, Paul. There's a saying amongst field staff at my other job, "Tis nobler in the field to suffer." That we did, and I hope our efforts are rewarded with a great day of fishing and warmer weather next year. Thanks for reading!
Tight lines,
Erik Hoffman, Hall of Fame Outdoor Co