Consequence of lazy

I’ve become lazy. Call it old age, indifference or lack of motivation, but for the past several years I’ve slid into a fishing rut that is unbecoming. Not so very long ago, I’d hook up the boat and drive to a different lake every weekend for not only a change of scenery, but to challenge myself to find the key to success on an unfamiliar body of water. For the past three years, I’ve quit challenging myself. I’ve been satisfied fishing the same two lakes with the same old stuff in the same old spots. That finally changed when my longtime friend Paul Michele invited me to join him on a little Florida adventure this past July.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Michele pitched, “is we will get on e-bikes and go about 10 miles down some remote bike trails to access canals that never get fished. There will be bass, cichlids, tarpon and maybe snook. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds like exercise,” I replied.

“Not really. The e-bikes are basically electric motorcycles. You are allowed to use them where other motorized vehicles can’t go, which is kinda the point. We’ll fish for fish that have never been fished!”

“Ah, well then, I’m in.”

Michele and I joined a couple of his friends who were familiar with the bike paths on an early Friday morning. We were the only cars at the trailhead. Now, there are more than 2,175 miles of canals in south Florida, and trails run along the edge of most of them. So, getting lost is a real possibility. Having either a guide or a good map is a must (cell service is not guaranteed). Although we started our trek near Melbourne, Fla., we could use these paths to access Fellsmere Reservoir 30 miles to the south, if so inspired. All this to say, there is a near endless amount of water to explore.

As we motored past the marshes and canals, the early morning light punctuated the benefits of our efforts. Water birds took flight. A symphony of frogs serenaded our peloton, and alligators surfaced and slinked toward us as we quickly passed. These new sights and sounds brought heightened anticipation to what the fishing might be. The unknown potential was invigorating. This is what I’d been missing.

We arrived at our first stopping point. Michele’s first cast was rewarded with a high-flying tarpon, likely in the 30-pound range, that refused to be caught. After two acrobatic leaps, the hook came free. I missed two explosive topwater strikes before the bite died down. We moved down the canal a few hundred yards and were rewarded with two solid bass and another near-miss with a big tarpon. The next spot yielded two Mayan cichlids and another couple of bass.

That is how our day was consumed. We’d find a fishy-looking spot, stop, cast, catch and move on.

By the time we were done, we had traveled about 15 miles into the Florida backwoods. We saw only three other humans the entire day. This was awesome. Now for the problem: About 5 miles into our return, my e-bike ran out of e. That left 10 miles of just bike. And that, as I tried to point out to my friend in the beginning, was exercise.

However, I had just been exposed to the consequences of my laziness. I had been missing the thrill of adventure that is the cornerstone of fishing pursuits. So, I pedaled … and was the better for it.