The whole thing started with the least of expectations. I had a rod and some time to kill due to a delayed appointment. I made some casts. I caught nothing. I drove to the appointment. Delayed again, for another hour.
I google mapped. I found nearby water. I tried a new fly.
On my first cast I caught a mayan cichlid. Sweet.
Then I saw a dark swirling shape hanging out near a submerged drain pipe. I made a cast.
A largemouth bass with a middling amount of heft liked my offering. OK, cool.
I released the bass. Then I saw two bulbous fish cruising the shoreline at a fast clip. I made a lead cast. One charged like a mofo.
It took off with the force of a Tri-Rail and I had to run down the bank for 20 feet or so until it settled. Actually took me to the reel. My uncertified genero-grip registered the openly hostile oscar at around two-pounds.
What an ornery little cuss.
This became interesting. The fly I had tied on looked similar to a juvie peacock, proving the cardinal law of fish: Everything eats everything. Could I make some sort of slam out of this?
My cell phone rang. I had to meet my appointment in 15 minutes. I was five minutes away.
Would a peacock bass hit a fly that looked kind of like a littler peacock?
Death don’t have no mercy.