At the Ramp

 Sitting here at the boat ramp behind the Best Western in Guntersville waiting for the fog to lift it dawns on me that I haven’t been home in weeks and I’m starting to feel like the Littlest Hobo! Life on the road and tour can be fun and exciting but is often hard and lonely. Moving from lake to lake and state to state giving myself a week to learn the lake and hammer out a pattern before the tournament. And I don’t always do it but I love the challenge! I love it all actually, the lakes, the people, and the weather. That’s right even the weather. I have fished in snow storms, freezing rain, small craft warnings, and tornados. It has all been fun, sort of.  I have met so many people and some of them have even become lifelong best friends. We have shared information and spots and some have even invited me into their homes to meet their families knowing I’m so far away from mine. Moments I will never forget.

 By now I have fished a lot of different tourneys, everything from shot gun starts, and yes they fired off a shot gun, to the FLW Tour to BASS and I love them all but I love fishing at home in Ontario the most.  Seeing all the familiar faces and that feeling of comfort that you have knowing the body of water you’re on. I don’t know what the summer would be without the Pollotta’s, Danny Dunn, or the Izumi’s just to mention a few. But I do this because I love fishing new water! Learning a new lake and figuring out the pattern is so rewarding and it is the best way to grow and become a better angler. But then again there is something to be said about trying out a new technic on water that you know holds fish.

 Last night both my wife and my mom wished me luck for this morning. They always do, I try to explain to them that it’s not about luck. It’s about working the problem and finding the pattern. But I don’t think they understand, they picture me in some back bay, water like glass, sitting back in a chair, cigar hanging out of my mouth, totally at peace like some scene from on golden pond or something. But it’s not like that at all. From blast off to weight in its non-stop high stress and high anxiety. A million things to do and think about in seconds.  They call my boat number and I stand on the gas! You get pinned to your seat and your blind till the bow comes down. Trim up, jack-plate up, watch the rpm and look for holes in the traffic for you to move into and pass. You shoot out of the river, creek, or bay and head for big open water, and then your worse fears have come to pass. The weather man was wrong and the wind came early. You think are those 3 or 5 footers and by then you hit the first one and nope their 6’s and the boat slams down like a crystal vase hitting a ceramic floor. Water comes over the bow, you hit the pump switch, look behind to make sure when you lay off the throttle you don’t get run over. Trim down, plate down, and throttle back. Now do I run? Are my fish going to be there? Am I good enough to get them? Am I good enough to make this run? This has to be one of the most honest moments in your life. The answer has to come from your gut, not your head, you can’t trust your head it’s full of ego and emotion, it has to be your gut. Most of the time I settle down for the long slow drive to my water, but every now and then my gut tells me to fish the river, lol. So I do. I know I won’t have the winning bag but I have 70 tournaments to fish this year and don’t want to lose the boat this early in the season. Weight in a limit, get on stage, thank the sponsors, pay the bills, and live to fish another day. That’s a lot to think about before stuff the next wave. I’m addicted to it, a tournament junkie you might say, so I say thanks and promise to be safe and tell them that I’ll see them soon. What else can I say?

Well the fog is lifting and the boats are starting to move up for blast off so I’ll say see you all soon and tight lines. Mike.