Sunday, January 07, 2007
BEWARE OF FISHING GEAR THAT ATTACKS!
All outdoor columns offer tips and helpful advice. This one is no exception.
Problem is, as an angling technocrat, I’m a good camel driver.
I’ve always held a grudging admiration for those outdoor types who can do everything from repair a malfunctioning shotgun in a duck blind to tying dry flies in a hurricane.
Unfortunately, my do-it-yourself abilities are limited. In fact, there are only two pieces of fishing advice that I feel I can offer with any degree of certainty.
The first is: "Never shut a car door on your fishing rod."
With that one, I’ve been successful about 95 percent of the time.
The second is: "Always wash the salt off your rod and reel after fishing in the ocean. If you don’t, it will rust and lock up. Guaranteed."
The last one has been a problem.
Often the only thing around in which to wash a rod and reel – once you’re through fishing – is more salt water. Even I know that if I rinse equipment in the ocean, I’m about as sharp as a marble.
Recently, however, I found the perfect solution to this dilemma.
Well, almost perfect.
While on a surf-fishing excursion to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, the perennial problem raised its ugly head again.
After a day of chasing bluefish in and out of the surf, I was covered with a fine salt crust. So was my fishing gear.
I went back to the motel where I was staying and, as always, carried my fishing gear back into the room with me.
The reason I do this is that surf-fishing gear enjoys a substantial popularity near any beach. Once outside a motel at Nags Head, some low-life admired my gear so much that he broke a car window to get it.
While inside, he also took my CB radio, a new Coleman cooler and my collection of Willie and Waylon CDs, possibly because by locking the doors, I’d made him expend the energy to break a window.
Anyway, I recently carried the two surf rods inside the motel with me. I had no intention of sleeping with the darn things – just propping them in a corner.
Once inside the room, I got ready to take a shower in order to get rid of the sand and salt spray on my precious body. That’s when I had an epiphany. Why not take the fishing rods into the shower with me?
There was plenty of soap and warm water. It would beat the heck out of hosing them down at a service station.
The fishing rods came out cleaner than I did. All I had to do later was hit the moving parts of the reels with a copious amount of WD-40 in order to replace the washed-away lubricant.
I was extremely proud of my creativity. The idea was so sound, so fundamentally simple and effective, that I considered composing a how-to article for one of the big outdoor magazines such as "Outdoor Life."
There’s one final tip, however, that I’ll pass on to you (though I may leave it out of the Outdoor Life piece since they don’t like unhappy endings).
Above all else, remove all hooks and lures from your fishing gear before taking it into the shower with you.
I knew from experience that a six-inch shiny Hopkins lure dangling a set of treble hooks wasn’t something to mess around with, but I had no idea how studiously you should avoid a Hopkins when it starts swinging around in a high-pressure shower.
Later that evening, the clerk at the front desk of the motel said she heard me cussing and screaming in the lobby, three floors down.
But she looked as if she might have a boy friend who steals fishing rods. I didn’t believe a word she said.
END
Problem is, as an angling technocrat, I’m a good camel driver.
I’ve always held a grudging admiration for those outdoor types who can do everything from repair a malfunctioning shotgun in a duck blind to tying dry flies in a hurricane.
Unfortunately, my do-it-yourself abilities are limited. In fact, there are only two pieces of fishing advice that I feel I can offer with any degree of certainty.
The first is: "Never shut a car door on your fishing rod."
With that one, I’ve been successful about 95 percent of the time.
The second is: "Always wash the salt off your rod and reel after fishing in the ocean. If you don’t, it will rust and lock up. Guaranteed."
The last one has been a problem.
Often the only thing around in which to wash a rod and reel – once you’re through fishing – is more salt water. Even I know that if I rinse equipment in the ocean, I’m about as sharp as a marble.
Recently, however, I found the perfect solution to this dilemma.
Well, almost perfect.
While on a surf-fishing excursion to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, the perennial problem raised its ugly head again.
After a day of chasing bluefish in and out of the surf, I was covered with a fine salt crust. So was my fishing gear.
I went back to the motel where I was staying and, as always, carried my fishing gear back into the room with me.
The reason I do this is that surf-fishing gear enjoys a substantial popularity near any beach. Once outside a motel at Nags Head, some low-life admired my gear so much that he broke a car window to get it.
While inside, he also took my CB radio, a new Coleman cooler and my collection of Willie and Waylon CDs, possibly because by locking the doors, I’d made him expend the energy to break a window.
Anyway, I recently carried the two surf rods inside the motel with me. I had no intention of sleeping with the darn things – just propping them in a corner.
Once inside the room, I got ready to take a shower in order to get rid of the sand and salt spray on my precious body. That’s when I had an epiphany. Why not take the fishing rods into the shower with me?
There was plenty of soap and warm water. It would beat the heck out of hosing them down at a service station.
The fishing rods came out cleaner than I did. All I had to do later was hit the moving parts of the reels with a copious amount of WD-40 in order to replace the washed-away lubricant.
I was extremely proud of my creativity. The idea was so sound, so fundamentally simple and effective, that I considered composing a how-to article for one of the big outdoor magazines such as "Outdoor Life."
There’s one final tip, however, that I’ll pass on to you (though I may leave it out of the Outdoor Life piece since they don’t like unhappy endings).
Above all else, remove all hooks and lures from your fishing gear before taking it into the shower with you.
I knew from experience that a six-inch shiny Hopkins lure dangling a set of treble hooks wasn’t something to mess around with, but I had no idea how studiously you should avoid a Hopkins when it starts swinging around in a high-pressure shower.
Later that evening, the clerk at the front desk of the motel said she heard me cussing and screaming in the lobby, three floors down.
But she looked as if she might have a boy friend who steals fishing rods. I didn’t believe a word she said.
END
