Hey all! 
I’ve been pretty quiet around here lately, but I thought I’d take the time to share a very heart-breaking experience I’ve endured recently.
On Monday evening I decided to head down to a shore fishing spot close to home on the Mississippi to soak some cut shad for an hour or two and see what might happen. The water was flat calm with virtually no current and it just seemed like a good evening to give ‘er a go, ya know?
Well, I got to the river around 7:15 pm and selected an open spot on the dock. Baited up my 8′ King Kat rod/Abu 6500 C3 combo with half a shad and casted downstream a ways. After 30-40 minutes of watching a few random pecks and nibbles at my bait, I reel up, rebait with a small whole shad and cast about 25′ directly in front of the dock. I then wedged my rod handle into a 5-gallon pail full of junk, engaged the spool and tightened the line, and leaned the rod against the dock railing. After about 10 minutes of watching the rod intently, I decided to drain the shad juice out of my bait bucket.
I had thoughtlessly turned my back on my rod for about a minute, no more than 18 inches away from it and poured the shad juice into the river. When I finally turned around, bait bucket in hand, I was extremely surprised to see that my King Kat rod was loaded up and bent double over the railing. Needless to say, the 4/0 Gamakatsu circle hook had done its job. In the split second it took to drop the bait bucket and lunge for the rod, my makeshift rod holder failed and the rod catapulted over the railing, catching some air before landing in the river about 5 feet in front of the dock! There it sat, just out of arms reach floating in the water. I yelled anxiously at my girlfriend’s 13 year old son to bring me his rod so I can try to snag it before it sank, but it was too late. The rod had only floated in the water for a second or two before it took off like a water skier pulled by a power boat. Apparently, the fish was still hooked and decided to make a run for it, dragging my rod briefly across the surface before it finally submerged out of view, and ultimately out of reach 
I tried to snag my rig for little over an hour that night and then returned that morning and tried again, but I’m afraid she’s gone for good. I didn’t even get a chance to say good-bye 
And I still can’t help but wonder…how big was that mystery fish that stole my rod and reel from me?
As much as I would love to believe that it was the next state record channel cat, chances are it was probably a little 5 lb’r or a shad-loving carp 
Sorry for the long post, but I’m sure there’s a lesson in there or somethin’ 
