Learning to drive upside down…

Copyright © 2009 Gawain Reifsnyder

Ever heard the old adage “I’d rather be lucky than good?” Sign me up. I must be luckier than that little green leprechaun on the front of my cereal box. While fishing for bass at an undisclosed location (Don’t ask. I won’t tell you.) I felt a massive jolt on the line. I didn’t know what I’d hit, but I could plainly see and feel that he was big. Real big. I had the sense to keep tension on the hook. I tried to stay calm and just let him take it out about six times until he tired out a bit. He’d kind of swim lazily around, pulling the line out into the middle of the lake and then thrash a couple of times, making a tremendous splash each time. Then he just sort of zoned out for a bit and let me reel him in part way. This dance went on for several minutes before I got him close enough to the bank to scoop him up in the net, which was almost too small to contain him.

Then I finally got a good look and realized what I had. He was of course a monster Ctenopharyngodon idella. This fish, otherwise known as a grass carp, was originally native to Asia and was introduced into the USA in 1963 for aquatic weed control. I knew there were some of these in the lake, but I was under the impression they weren’t interested in typical lures.

This one didn’t get the memo, apparently. As soon as I got him into the net I relaxed the tension on the line, and the little lure just popped out of his lip. He had just barely bitten down on it and if I had relaxed the tension for even a second while he was fighting I never would have gotten him to the bank.

Fortunately a young friend came by to help and was kind enough to take this picture of me with my prize. This fish was without question bigger than every other fish I’ve caught in my life. Combined. So as I let him slip back beneath the glassy surface I stood there with shaking hands and pounding heart and waved goodbye. It seemed only fitting to give him a name. So I did.

Holy Carp.