whats your most memorable freshwater fishing trip?

[bassnbucks]

Lake Oneida, was fishing a 2 day tournament.Day 1 weighed about 10 lbs. for 5 fish.Day 2 we were moving from our first spot to another across the lake.We saw a few birds working and stopped.Smallies were feeding up top.We caught fish all day.I was using a zara spook and they beat the bait up to the point all the paint was gone. It didnt seem to matter to them.We ended up with just under 20 lbs for 5 fish.

[JimmyLivebait]

Well boys since mikey topaz and i have been best friends and fishing partners for almost 14 years now...pretty much every memorable moment has been shared with him...wow that didnt sound rigt...anyway....one of my favorites was trout fishing with mikeytopaz at KLG and he decided he was to utilize a tree to get to a hole..well he went to jump off the fallen tree and it wound up slingshotting mikey topaz head over heels in the opposite direction he intended for...i was in tears for an hour and still laugh as hard telling it...he stjll caught the hell out of the trout just like any other species he targets but just a little wetter. Any day out fishing with close friends is memorable i just forget a lot haha...and we are all blessed to have those funny,wet,even painfull selfhooked experiences with our friends and im thankful for every damn one of them

[Mikey topaz]

Lmao i remember that hah that sucked!!

[AndrewT]

Lake bomoseen, VT about 10-15 years ago. Between my dad, brother, and I, we caught about 70 largemouth in about a 4 hour span. ALL of the fish came off a slate pile about 100 yards long. All we did was drop power worms down about 20 ft, let it hit the bottom, feel the tap tap, and set the hook. It was stupid. The biggest was 5lbs + but most were 1.5lbs. It was one of those days all fisherman dream about.

[Duck or Bleed]

Salmon and Steel head fishing with Mikey Topaz and crew FISH ON!!!!

[JimmyLivebait]

You got that right duck or bleed!

[Lard Almighty]

The last time I fished Lake Fork in 2009. My dad and I had booked a guide, Rick, for four days of fishing. The first day a huge storm rolled through and cancelled any hope of fishing. Day 2 and 3 were both horrible, with cold temps, wind, and cloudless skies. I thought Day 4 would be our day as we were greeted with cloud cover and milder temps. It started out well with some nice bass, including a sweet 6-5, and my PB crappie. But as the day wore on, the weather got colder, the wind picked up, and the rain started.

By the afternoon my dad and I were both soaking wet, and the already modest fishing had taken a nosedive. Rick wanted to know if we wanted to head in early. I looked back at my dad on the pedestal seat, shivering and doing his best to keep the chill out. I could tell he was done. But I turned to Rick and said, “Let’s try one more spot.”

Rick motored us to a cove that was about as sheltered from the wind as we could find. As he dropped the trolling motor and I threw my first cast, it felt like something clicked. I don’t know whether it was knowing that this could be the last time I ever fish this lake, or that on any given cast I could hook the bass of a lifetime, or even if it was just to spite the lousy weather that ruined my dream fishing trip. I no longer felt the cold, or the wind, or the rain. I was on auto-pilot, focused solely on the reel, the lure, and where my next cast was going. Almost robotically, it was cast-reel, cast-reel, cast-reel. I have been in a zone before, but never had I been this focused, this entranced by the act of fishing.

WHAM!

My automated motions screeched to a halt as the rod doubled over. Muscle memory took over and I set the hook hard on a nice bass. After a strong fight, I brought a nice 4 pounder to my thumb. Rick smiled in approval. My dad snapped a photo as I held the fish up high and proud. I laid the fish back in the rain-buffeted lake and it swam off strong. I said to Rick, “Let’s keep going.”

We made our way further around the cove and I once again became lost in my actions. The howling winds, the hum of the trolling motor, the sizzling spatter of rain on the water; my ears were deaf to it all. My hands, cold and trembling less than an hour before, felt warm, steady, sure. Through my damp fingers I could feel the action of the lure. Every wobble, every shake, every bead clacking against the inside felt as though it was happening inside my hands.

And then I felt something different.

I reared back on the hook and felt the shaking head of another nice fish. I shouted in excitement as I pulled 4 more pounds of Lake Fork largemouth into the boat. Out, once again, came my dad’s camera. Cold, exhausted, and as happy as I had ever been, I triumphantly held my catch high. After the moment had been immortalized in pixels, I watched the bass swim off into the murky water. I stood up and looked at Rick, who could tell by my smile that I wanted to keep going. With icy rain dripping off the end of his nose, he gave me his one word answer:

“Uncle.”

The ride back to the dock was brutal. Running unprotected, at 40 miles per hour, through a driving rain, over white caps so tall that the steering column on Rick’s boat broke, is the most miserable experience I could ever wish on my worst enemy. Still, it seemed a fitting end as I believe Lake Fork and I came to an understanding that day. Just as the lake would not always give up its green jewels without a fight, neither would I be deterred by the lake’s best efforts to keep them from me.

I go fishing a lot. I catch a lot of fish. But that day on Lake Fork, in the cold, cold rain, was one of the few times where I felt like I truly knew what it meant to be a fisherman.

[basspilot]

Lard almighty - I hope you write a book regarding your fishing experiences because if its anything like your posts here ill be sure to purchase it.

All the posts on here are just awesome to read to see how many people truly share the passion/obsession I have with fishing.

My stories aren't as great as all of yours but I have shared a lot of great memories with by grandfather over the years. Well be going out a lot on greenwood this year to share many more. Fishing memories start with a rod and real in hand so get out their and fish!

[crewchief2]

Catching an 11 foot sailfish on my honeymoon in Acapulco, Mex.
And up until a few years ago, we had access to a farm with 13 ponds that were stocked in the 70's with bass, and never fished, Used to go down and stay the weekend, with my Dad, and my son, Catching 200 bass a day was common.

[RJHooker]

I have two:

Exploring a region of north Jersey I had never been to, I was looking for a lake and got lost. After about 3 hours, I happened upon a pond. Threw in my lures, and just landed bass after bass. Its been my favorite goto spot ever since.

The other was when my buddies were going to see Ozzfest at PNC bank arts center. I didnt have a ticket so I brought some fishing gear hoping to find a nearby estuary. After an hour of walking aimlessly through the dark back streets of homdel, I noticed the music getting louder. I blazed through a patch of woods, and down a small hill to find myself where all of the tour buses for the concert were. I met Rob zombie going into his tour bus. Then I walked past one old security guard with rod, and tackle box in hand, all while waving hello to him. Then proceeded into the pit right in front of the stage to catch ozzy's entire set.

So no fish on the second one, but a memorable fishing trip none the less!