Normally I avoid fishing in Prospect Park Lake on a Saturday. On the weekends
the park is crowded with park visitors. But I went in spite of my foreboding of congestion
and noise. On my way to the lake I saw some of my old cycling buddies, whom I had not
seen in a few years. I no longer ride my road bike. Spending hundreds of hours sitting on
a hard saddle has lost it's allure.
good bye to one another and I walked to the south end of the lake. There was a woman
fishing with a fly rod. This is really, really unusual, to see a woman fishing alone
especially casting a fly rod.
I walked to the three islands in the lake. In the past this was a great place to fish
because of the structure near the islands. At one time bluegills and crappie with a few
"club size" bass thrown in the mix made for a fun time. Fish poaching has ending the
easy, fun fishing that was here.
A zug bug got the skunk off me when I caught my first bluegill of the evening.
A bass fisher that I know caught up to me and we began to fish together.
We worked our way toward the west side of the lake. I checked to see how the mulberry
trees were doing. I saw no berries . My fishing buddy dropped his line into a heavily
vegetated spot and was rewarded with a violent strike! The fish wrapped the line around a
submerged branch and you know what happened after that.
By this time I had chosen a small black woolie bugger to fish, about a size# 10. I started
fishing to my right. I got a hit and reeled in a four or five inch bluegill.
After a few more, I hooked a crappie. Another Belgium cast and I had hooked another
crappie. It seemed that I could not, not catch a fish in this location. About forty feet
from where I stood my friend was catching fish too.
I was a well oiled fly fishing machine. Me and the black woolie bugger were merciless.
Night was above me now and my vision was being limited by the absence of the sun's light.
How it happened I do not know but I lost my fly. It was too dark to tie on another.
ear to ear.