Went out looking for brookies and was savagely attatcked and mauled by a deranged pickerel who had no business being in those waters. I'm pretty sure he was a plant by some long haired, birkenstock wearing, liberal bucket biologist, one of Regnars crowd no doubt , trying to integrate the home waters with a new sense of fishy diversity and ethnic coagulation. I was trying to send the little SOB home, south of the beaver dam, when all of a sudden...he attacked!! Blood flew, I screamed, and he died a horrible and ultimately a brutal death there amongst the beaver turds. Almost felt bad for a minute, until I looked at my thumb. I wonder though, you think think the rest of the fish would have made him learn to speak trout?
Troutpro! good to hear from you. I thought you had run off and joined the circus. That was the first pickerel I've caught since I was a kid and it surprised the hell out of me. I'm hoping it was a freak of nature that put him there, all the floods we had here last fall might have dumped fish where they never should have been.