Lucas in Search of Magic – Part 2

Lucas à la recherche de la magie - pt 2 | Hammer Tackle

After the rocky barrier slopes, the call of the Alps is too strong. For a few days, hiding under a tree where you know or think you know the fish crossing point seems to be a good option. A huge turquoise expanse, waking up in the mist and possibly the touch that takes you to the middle of the mountains on your little dinghy... The magic part is definitely there.

A few beautiful days of work later, it's time to head to this large alpine lake. It's not my favorite as I'm more of a fan of its big brother, but at this time of year it seems to be the most strategic approach. The climatic conditions must have made the edges warmer in recent days, so I bet on a spot that has already brought me a pair of carp, a beautiful tree with a slight brittleness under the drooping branches, the pantry of a large passage area.

Waders and Pola on the nose I'm still making the boundaries to ensure they are frequented, unfortunately they are barren, no traces of fresh feeding for several hundred meters. Trying to arrive at such lakes earlier and earlier is a risk, but the challenge is interesting.

When I return to post, I still bait a few tiger nuts in certain spots for quick movement or stalking if the number of people at the border changes in the coming days. I reduce the diameter of my fluoroline heads slightly and place the rigs in place, under the watchful eye of the piafs who love to dive on these easy handfuls of seeds.

The first night is quiet, but when we wake up the clouds are gorgeous and faithful to the lake, hanging on the mountain tops for hours. I walk through one of the lakeside fields and capture some seasonal details. The sun finally comes out, the transparent water allows me to check the pre-primed areas. RAS.

Today the whites are active, they can be observed on the surface and come looking from time to time. A little more prospecting but no carp in sight. The sun is shining, it's just a matter of time.

Tonight I catch 5 or 6 bream, normally this is annoying but now I'm happy and pumped up, the carp is coming for sure. At the same time, I fish at depths of up to ten meters so as not to put all my eggs in one basket. The pattern repeats itself: prospecting, new pre-bait, walks through the fishing area. What a joy to be there and the feeling that the right time is approaching grows ever stronger.

At night a series of beeps force me to put on my waders and go fishing, it smells like bream! The landing net remains on the bivouac, what a bad idea because it is a town that has taken refuge in a bush. A little tension and she emerges from that pile of branches, the fight beginning and ending like a trout in the hand. Since I don't want to risk operating it incorrectly, I look at it in the light of my headlamp for a few seconds and then let it go. Finally ! A small moment of release, the stick rests precisely on the edge. Back in the warmth of your sleeping bag, the pressure drops.

The night goes by, and when you wake up, THE touch. What I like most about carp fishing is THE magical moment par excellence: being woken from sleep by a fish, seeing the tip bend in the fog and setting off to fight with a boat or waders...

This time I'm wearing my waders, the head shots reveal the presence of a not so big enemy, but it's definitely a carp, we have to catch it! The first time I pass through it I think of a mirror, then I see scales, a row of scales! My legs are shaking, I remove it from the branches twice, a nugget from the lake, it lands on my carpet for a quick photo session.

The next day a big storm cooled the water temperature significantly and brought no new changes, good thing it was time to return. The return trip will take a little longer than expected, 4 flat tires, but that's a detail, the next destination is already well marked on the map...

Be continued

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