Silverleaf Writers Guild
December 11, 2018

Alluring Stories

Hi, I’m Janice and I’m addicted to fishing.  And making lures. And trying a different combination of setups just to see if they work.


About two years ago, I got obsessed with making beer cap lures.  They are really fun to make and they actually work.




Pike tend to like the red and white Molson Canadian and Peroni caps.  I even made lures out of Canadian pennies and Australian nickels.




I got so obsessed with making lures, I bought all different kinds of beers just to make different kinds of lures with all the different colours.  I now have a box with maybe 200 lures. (And those are the ones I didn’t give away!)




One day, a friend and I went fishing at our secret spot.  I was slightly intoxicated (Thank you, whiskey) and decided to try something different, as my setup wasn’t going far enough into the rapids.  I forgot to fill my travel tackle box with new gear that day, therefore I had to be creative. My jig was way too light for the rapids. I tied a bell sinker to the end of a leider then set up my jig with a fire tigre squishy worm. I did catch a small pickerel with it.




My friend went triple squishy and put a yellow twister, a shiner squishy and a pink squishy on a pink jig.  This setup didn’t catch anything, but it went far and it kept us entertained for a while.




I later found a crayfish and hooked it on an orange jig and a fire tiger squishy. The crayfish fell off after a couple of casts.  Bummer.




Later on that day, I managed to find a leech creeping on the rocks near the shore. I hooked it at the end of my jig.  I casted and casted for what felt like an eternity. I was growing hopeless as it had been hours since we last caught a fish.  Finally, to my surprise , I got a big hit. I reeled and reeled in excitement until the pickerel arrived near shore.


“Pull it in!” My excited friend yelled from a distance. I pulled the pickerel up to shore.  What a beautiful big beast. (I reckon it was five pounds, a decent eater size.) Just as I was going to pull it in completely, the little sucker wiggled off the hook.  I desperately tried to catch the fish from mid air with my bare hands. I screamed “Noooooo!” It was just like those slow motion parts in action flicks. The pickerel flew from one side,  falling in the water on the other side of the rocks, still close to land. I lunged at it again, desperately wanting to catch it, but instead I slipped and fell on my ass. My feet landed in the water.  The fish obviously swam away, leaving me defeated. I yelled the loudest “Fuck esti crisse de tabarnak.” I think all the bears, eagles and the Sasquatch heard me from across the entire forest. I don’t have a picture of this beauty because it bloody swam away!


Here’s a small pike instead.


Another time a few weeks prior to this, I went out to my family’s cottage alone.  My plan was to get drunk and fish off the dock. I had a night line set up with a minnow and a floating jig.  I used a light action rod on the other side of the dock to jig for whatever lived under the dock. My dad and his friend came out to use the boat.  He didn’t bother to pay attention to my night-line, therefore he cut my line with the motor propellers.

I was livid because this was the last floating jig I owned.  What was I going to use as a substitute? How will I catch a sturgeon without a floating jig, dammit? I had to think fast. I ran to the shed and looked around. I found one of my dad’s old go-getters and snipped off the hook with nail clippers.  Now, I needed something that floats. I scanned the contents of the shed until a light bulb lit up in my brain. There was a giant sheet of pink insulation foam leaning against a shelf. I broke off a small piece and hooked it on the hook and cast it into the river.    I didn’t manage to catch anything on the night-line, however making this hick floating jig kept me occupied for some time. I did catch a couple of small wiggly pike on the light action rod.



These are all the fishing tales for now.  I hope I didn’t bore you to death with my fishing lure obsession.

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