|Warning: sarcastic blog propped up by facetiousness to follow…
Oh my god, it rained. It actually rained. Water. Water came from the sky. Thunder, too. Thunderstorms over water. Waterspouts were predicted. One popped up below my house. Is this Armageddon? Or at least one of the things Nostradamus predicted after the French Revolution?
That’s it. Winter is here. Fishing is over. Break out the sinkers. Nothing to see here. It was fun while it lasted.
It poured pretty hard here in San Clemente this morning. But now the weather is nice. I’d even go so far as to call it the almost always over used word in my world: epic.
adjective Also, ep·i·cal.
heroic; majestic; impressively great: the epic events of the war.
of unusually great size or extent: a crime wave of epic proportions.
The other word that seems to pop up too often, editorially speaking:
Slam [slam] verb, slammed, slam·ming, noun
verb (used with object), verb (used without object)
to shut with force and noise: to slam the door.
to dash, strike, knock, thrust, throw, slap down, etc., with violent and noisy impact: He slammed his books upon the table.
Informal . to criticize harshly; attack verbally: He slammed my taste mercilessly. (Definitions courtesy of dictionary.com)
The door hasn’t been slammed shut; in fact, the weather was epic — compared to the afternoon winds of this season — below Dana Point, at the lunch break:
Before taking the picture, I had the cubicle block going on. It's like writer's block, but way worse. It's gnarly. I wish it on nobody.
It all started after writing next week’s tackle room column after typing for next week’s Long Range Preview supplement from home. All I had to do was write an intro in the office after getting the meat of it all done from home pre grey; I went through a few introduction paragraphs in the cubicle before getting one to stick to the wall.
The topic: what worked this season, from progression when it comes to tackle (squid fishing along the coast) to some things staying constant (bluefin being the most technical, rarely mindless—save for pen fishing—style of offshore fishing we have).
This (starting with the next paragraph) ended up on the cutting room floor. It pretty much sucks. But since web writing isn’t really writing :-) I guess it can go on the blog. (Don’t forget the warning at the beginning of the blog; or is this one a serious statement?)
Do seasons, or the season, ever end, or do the times we fish kind of just dovetail from summer/fall to winter/spring as targets change based on the set ups, conditions or desires to fish?
While I will totally go with the steadfast beliefs of most, the one that we don’t have a truly year-round saltwater fishery in Southern California — thanks, January and February and the two-month ground fish closure that comes with the first two months of the year — there are opportunities year round.
Fall, as in October and the beginning of November, have long been this great time to fish in SoCal. In this day in age where everything gets so crowded, especially when the bites first get going, it’s only in the fall where we get what is impossible to find during the height of the season: real potential for biting fish, with less (or zero) crowds.
Some call it one more trip in the fall. But it’s really just going fishing. Again. After all, “the season” never ends until that last cast is made and all the memories backlash together.
A lifetime of fishing is just one big long fishing session — call it a season maybe? — wrapped into one, with some slow times and fast times thrown in the mix.
There’s always something to try for, even something to catch — especially in the fall!