
I was using the hybrid leadcore outfit I’ve written so much about in the pages of the Fish Sniffer consisting of a short fluorocarbon top shot, 3 colors of 17 lb. leadcore and 20 lb. braid backing spooled on an Abu 5500-line counter attached to a Vance’s trolling rod.
I’d tipped the rig with a shad pattern Hum Dinger, put out 2 colors of leadcore and slipped the rod beneath the kayak’s seat. Looking at my GPS I settled into a rhythm of peddling that propelled the Hobie Pro Angler 14 forward at 2.5 miles per hour.
I was peddling along, enjoying the still of the early morning when the trout struck. The rod tip was a bit behind me and out of sight, so I didn’t see the strike. Instead I heard it, a strange tick, tick, tick.
The sound took a second to register but when it did, my head snapped to the right. The rod tip was buried in the water. The line was going straight down, line was pulling off the reel and the sound was being made by the surging rod tapping against the kayak’s aluminum rail.
The rod was locked under the seat pretty tightly against the diving trout, but I twisted it free. The fight was on.
The trout was determined to stay deep and swam along at just over 2 miles an hour. Yet I knew that provided the hook held, no trout in the lake could defeat the smooth drag of my Abu and the strength robbing power of my Vance’s rod.
My first glimpse of the rainbow was just that, the glimpse of a flash through run off stained water. The trout shook its head, angled down and did everything possible to escape, but it couldn’t avoid the net.
I had my first ever kayak trout and it was a dandy rainbow weighing between 3 and 4 pounds.
Landing that trout with my Labrador Lucy standing behind me wearing her