Mark Twain portrayed Americas Fishing youth with a wiley, country kid, in coveralls fishing on a slow moving river with a coffee can of worms. While that may be the case in some locations, here in California, the likely hood of a kid fishing on their own is almost non - existent. Coffee can? Maybe a starbucks coffee cup with worms!! Nevertheless, they say the future of the world lies with our kids. That is also true for fishing. Fishing with your kid creates a bond that lasts a lifetime. Ask my dad -- to this day I’m constantly asking him to take a trip with me to Belize!!! Read More...

tried to go fishing but there was a little man who kept pulling on my shorts demanding I give him the rod.

This was probably the most successful fishing outing since we’ve been coming to Collins Lake. The water level had dropped over 30’ from its capacity and seemed to concentrate fish to offshore structures. No longer could the fish relate and hide in the tree’s and bushes around the Collins Lake shoreline. They were forced into staging on rockpiles throughout the lake. Early on we found our pattern and throughout the next few weeks stuck to that same theory and caught a crap load of fish. Being mid summer, we focused on rockpiles on main lake points but being that the water level was so low, we didn’t ignore the rock islands that tied the main shoreline to the middle of the lake. We affectionately named the offshore rockpiles, the three sisters, and during the course of the next few weeks, we got very familiar with them. Most of the fish were spotted bass, but there were quite a few hefty LMB that took our bait. The mornings were fairly windy until about 730am in which all the wind would die off. Surface baits worked great in the AM when there was a little big more texture on the water. Once it got calm and the water heated up, we headed for deep water and combed the rocks with big plastic worms. Take a look at the link below for some fish catches.

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Every year about this time, families across the world step into their vans, wagons, and RVs and head out for their annual family trip. It usually begins with the father loading the coleman cooler and propane stove into the trunk along with the bags of clothes that will go unused for the duration of the vacation. The mom would have packed the car with all sorts of chips & cookies, while simultaneously threatening the kids to behave or else they would just stay home and not go on the trip at all. The latest addition to this tradition has been the induction of the portable dvd player to shut the kids up on the long and tedious drive to the Grand Canyon. Amidst the constant calls of "Are we there yet?", "I got to pee," or "Ed bit me," we still manage to get there and start the cycle over next year. As ominous as this sounds, it does get better and if you play your cards right, your kids will be asking you to go camping with them and their kids. Read More...

Surf fishing is one of my favorite ways to fling a line. It has become a link to my childhood that I hope one day to share with my son. When I was a child, I would accompany my father while he and his friends combed the beaches of the SF Bay Area in the pursuit of Giant Striped Bass. I remember watching my father step into his waders, put on his canvas high tops with the toes cut off, wrap his military style ALICE web gear with his various "mickey mouse" and krocodile spoons and fling a 12-13 foot surf rod way past the breakers. At that time, fishing wasn't nearly as interesting as playing with all the unique stuff he staged on the beach. More often than not, I would either play with my dad's tackle and most likely destroy or make it harder for my father to fish. Read More...