Momma's porch pet.
A spendid Labor Day weekend trip to wild, wonderful West Virgina produced plenty of good times, but no fish. Unless you count the bait...that is. Lindsay, Rob and I were down to visit Momma in Morgantown, watch WVU play Marshall from four rows up from the field and...do wedding stuff...of course.
Berto and I dipped out Saturday night, and after scoring a few bluegills in Cheat Lake, headed to Point Marion, PA in search of a hefty flathead. After a little disappointment that our"spot" had been turned into a marina, some bushwacking led us to the water while streaks of lightning lit up the sky from afar. A couple hours in, a fish ran away with an 8-inch bluegill and Berto connected, only to have the sinker snag a rock while bringing it in. The rig eventually busted and whatever was on the end of it was liberated. Judging by the fact that it ate a sunfish the size of my hand, it was probably a decent kitty.
We washed our tears away with chicken wings on the way back.
Monday brought us back home and now last minute preparations are being made for the nuptials. I reckon I won't get much fishing in for awhile, until the wedding day...of course.