The largest one caught of the evening, and yes, it was mine. However my cousin is holding it so I could get a good picture.
Being late Spring/Early summer, it still got dark fairly quick and by 8pm it was getting too dark to continue and the biting had died off. Many people had arrived and began setting out lines for cats. Apparently, the spillway was an excellent spot of big cat-fishing.
My final catch of the day. What a whopper!
As I'm writing this now, it's about 8 months later, so my memory of everything that happened isn't as clear as when I first started to writing.
I fished nearly every day that I was there. Hailing from north eastern Kentucky, the fishing is very different at home than it was here. One big difference was the variety of fish to catch. At home I normally fish small rivers and lakes, thus limiting my options. Generally I catch: Bass, bluegill, catfish, and the occasional walleye or Drum if I go to the Ohio River.
Here Drum was everywhere. A nuisance really. They didn't put up a fight so much as just drag along with the current. I caught probably 5-8 of them. (I can't remember exactly how many.)
One of the many and irritating drums I caught while there. Caught on an orange and yellow crawfish lure.
One particular fish that was big there in Texas that we don't have at home was the Gar. According to my cousin, Dad, John and everyone else- they were everywhere down there and quite the pain in the ass. They all called them "Trash Fish" because you couldn't do much with them and they'll ruin your tackle if you don't have the right set up. I was obsessed. I wanted one. Needed one. I vowed that before I left, I was going to catch one.
I stayed pretty much along the spillway the entire time with all my fishing. I varied my distance from the dam though. The first night there, we were right under the dam, fishing in the rapids. The next day, I moved down a couple hundred yards where the water was still swift, but the river was widening and there were less people fishing here. This is where I caught nearly every one of those infernal drums. This is also where I caught my unicorn so to speak; my Gar.
I was fishing with a lure that'd been given to me by a good friend. It was a Rapala Shad lure that dived about 3 feet. Past experience up home had told me that this was an excellent lure for bass. It drove them crazy in places like Greenbo Lake and Lake Vesuvius. So after a fairly unproductive day of nothing but drums, I decided to give the Shad lure a go. I don't remember now exactly how many casts it took, but I remember the hit. It was as if someone had been standing in the river and given my line a quick tug then starting moving up-current. Adrenaline hit me like a piano falling on a Looney Tune. I began reeling the line in and it amazed me the kind of fight this thing put up. This was stronger than any bass I'd caught up home. I was worried my line would snap considering it wasn't a very heavy weight test line. Finally it broke the surface about 25ft from the water's edge and that adrenaline rate doubled. I saw it, my Gar. I couldn't tell how big it was, but I knew it was a fairly small one. I'd seen them jumping in the river earlier that day and from previous knowledge of them, I knew they could get at least 7ft. This one, I knew immediately wasn't that size. Which made me wonder, if this is a small one and puts up this kind of a fight... What's it like with a 7 footer?
Soon I got the catch to the bank. Amazed that I'd done so without losing my line, lure and catch, I rejoiced and marveled at my haul. Small though it may be, I was immensely proud. I'd caught a gar, and that was good enough for me.
I guestimated the total length to be 2 1/2-3ft. Not huge by any stretch of the imagination, but still a beautiful catch for my first ever Gar.
Considering that I'd spent the entire time there hell bent on catching a Gar before leaving, I'd come prepared. Using a pair of long nose pliers and covering the snout/teeth with my boot, I managed to get my lure back, both it and I unscathed.
The last few days I had decided to slow it down a bit and settled for some cat-fishing about a quarter mile downstream, where the Sulpher River passed under U.S. 59. This was an excellent spot in my opinion because there were few people there, it was close to the road and the shade from the over pass kept me from frying to a crisp. I fished here on and off for a few days with a fair amount of luck. None of the cats caught here were huge, or ever keeper size, but I'm generally a catch and release guy anyway. The size of them weren't of much matter to me. Here's a few more pics of my time there.
1 of the 20 or so tiny cats caught beneath the overpass of U.S. 59.
Another shot of my tiny fighting Gar. In the bottom right hand corner is the tip of my pole with the Rapala Shad lure he bit on.
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