On Facebook, the website from which all knowledge stems, I recently found the page of Australia’s Barambah Lures. They make all sorts of lifelike creations, but I was particularly captivated by their parakeet imitators.
One of the reasons Hanna and I go back to Anglers Inn again and again and again is because after a dozen or so trips the staff has started to feel like family. Actually, better than family – because none of my close relatives has ever unhooked a fish for me, tied a knot for me, or jumped up from the seated position to carry my overstuffed tackle bag from my boat to my room.
I’ve been around this sport long enough to know which anglers are generally despised and which ones are known to “do things the right way.” No, I’m not going to divulge any names from the former group, but if you read between a few lines you can probably figure some of them out. In fact, if you read between the lines, there’s a lot you can learn about the levels of respect that various anglers are afforded.
We may not always recognize it, but we are living in a golden age of fishing. Part of that is because many of our fisheries are healthier than ever. Additionally, much of our equipment is light years ahead of where it was even a decade ago. The final foundation of that three-legged stool of excellence doesn’t involve fishing directly – rather, it’s because we are living in an era of convenience store exceptionalism.
Two years ago I wrote about how Huk wisely capitalized on Greg Hackney’s inner arms and armpits, branding their logo in places where it would likely only be seen as he raised his arms in victory. Apparently his other sponsors have caught on, because during the recently-concluded Kentucky Lake Elite event I saw several pics of Hack wearing gloves with a prominently displayed TH Marine emblem on the back.
In 25 years of riding around in bass boats, I’ve seen all sorts of meals brought on board. Of course, there have been thousands of packs of Nabs and hundreds of cans of properly-aged Vienna Sausages. There’s been at least three Herefords worth of beef jerky and a gross of Pop Tarts. I’ve seen a partner eat Chinese food (with a spork) out of one of those little folding takeout containers, and I’ve witnessed another place a half rack of ribs on his butt seat for easy access.