Yesterday’s Fishing Win: Three Golden Catches & Total Domination of the “Pioneer Scoundrels”

That Time We Planned to Chase Carp & Ended Up Outsmarting a Pesky “Army”

Let me tell you—yesterday’s fishing trip was wild. Me, Liu (the “general” of our crew), and Boss He (the chill one who brings the snacks) had big plans: head to Geda Temple to target big carp and grass carp. We packed our gear, cranked up the AC, and hit the road like we were on a mission. But man, did things go sideways fast.

We rolled up to the Geda Temple checkpoint, and guess what? They shut us down. Now, Liu’s technically the son-in-law of someone from Geda Temple—you’d think that’d get us a pass, right? Nope. Nada. Zilch. The guard just shook his head and said, “No entry, no exceptions.” We drove all that way for nothing? Hell no. We weren’t gonna waste a perfect fishing day just ‘cause some checkpoint was being a buzzkill.

So we parked the car, grabbed our rods, and set up right there at the checkpoint. But wait—this wasn’t the “clear blue water” we remembered. For six months, some “crazy folks” have been digging sand in the river under the excuse of “river management.” Total BS, if you ask me. They’re just milking the river for resources, dragging their feet on the “project,” and turning the once-green water into mud. Like, muddier than the Yellow River. Gross. But hey—when life gives you muddy water, you fish muddy water, right?

Our Gear: The “Big Stick” & Bait Experiments

We came prepared, though. Here’s what we brought to the fight:

• My 6.3-meter “Shenji Big Catch Rod” (translation: the beast that can handle anything that pulls)
• 4.0 main line from the Fishing Home store (pre-tied, so no fumbling with knots at 6 AM)
• Old Altar corn (the “secret weapon” for carp, according to Liu)
• Wine-scented carp bottom bait (also from Fishing Home—we’re loyal to that brand)
• Yellow Storm soft bait (for when the big boys aren’t biting)

Liu kept hyping up the “giant carp” in this spot, but let’s be real—muddy water means you’re probably catching catfish, yellow croaker, or… the “Pioneer Scoundrels.” Oh, you don’t know who that is? Wait till you hear about the whitebait (small silver fish) that run this river. They’re like the special ops of the fish world—fast, greedy, and they’ll steal your bait before you can blink. Total pests. But we’d deal with them later.

Morning Fail: Carp No-Shows & the Wait from Hell

We got there at dawn, so first, we set up the bottom bait and tossed in the old altar corn. Then I mixed up the Yellow Storm soft bait and started casting. For the first hour? Nothing but whitebait stealing bites. I’d reel in, and my hook would be bare. Annoying. Then I switched to corn, thinking maybe the carp were just being picky. Nope. We sat there for two whole hours, and our floats were as still as a statue. Like, “grandma napping on the couch” still. Boring.

I was this close to packing up. The sun was beating down, my legs were cramping, and Liu was already complaining about his back. “We drove an hour for this?” he grumbled. Boss He just handed us cold drinks and said, “Chill. Fishing’s about patience.” Yeah, easy for him—he brought the snacks. But I was determined. I grabbed a worm from my tackle box, tied it on, and cast one last time before we bailed.

The First Bite: A “Japanese-Speaking” Yellow Croaker?

Three minutes. That’s all it took. My float dipped, then BOOM—blackout. I jerked the rod up, and something was fighting back. Hard. It was thrashing, making these weird “gak gak gak” noises. Wait, did this fish just speak Japanese? I don’t know any Japanese! But I didn’t care—I was reeling it in like my life depended on it.

When I pulled it out of the water? A huge yellow croaker (aka “yellow army” fish—they’re tough). Those things have three venomous spines on their backs, so I grabbed my pliers and clipped ‘em off. Sorry, buddy, but I’m not letting you stab my hand or get stuck in my net. Cruel? Maybe. Satisfying? Hell yes.

Then it happened again. Another bite. Another yellow croaker. Then a third. Three in a row! All “leader-level” size—half a pound or more. The fight was insane. The rod bent so far I thought it might break. Boss He was cheering, Liu was taking photos, and I was just grinning like an idiot. That’s the stuff fishing dreams are made of.

Total Domination: Taking On the Pioneer Scoundrels

Just when we thought the day couldn’t get better, the “Pioneer Scoundrels” showed up. The whitebait attacked in full force. Our floats were dancing like they were at a rave—up, down, left, right. But every time we tried to hook ‘em, we missed. 9 out of 10 casts were duds. Annoying? Yes. But we weren’t gonna let ‘em win.

I swapped out my big hook for a size 3 sleeve hook (small, perfect for tiny fish). No need to retune the float—switching hooks just made it rise two spots, so I fished off the bottom. Then I mixed up some “All-Catch” stinky bait (the whitebait’s kryptonite) and made tiny dough balls. Let’s just say… game over for the scoundrels.

Every cast got a bite. Every bite I hit. I was on fire. “Miss a thousand, don’t miss one” was my motto. I caught so many whitebait I lost count. Boss He was laughing, “You’re gonna need a bigger net!” And he was right—my small net was overflowing. But hey, whitebait fried up? *Chef’s kiss.* Crispy, salty, perfect with a cold beer. The only downside? They make you drink way too much. Oops.

Sunset & the End of a Wild Day

By the time the sun started setting, I was beat. This year, I’ve been freezing my ass off earlier than usual—maybe I’m getting old? I packed up my gear, grabbed the fish, and we headed home. We didn’t catch the big carp we came for, but who cares? We had a blast.

Let’s be real—fishing isn’t just about catching the biggest fish. It’s about hanging with your buddies, laughing at the stupid stuff, and being surprised by what the river throws at you. We turned a “failed” trip into a win: three golden yellow croakers and a whole mess of the “scoundrels” we’d been complaining about. That’s the good stuff.

Final Thoughts: Fishing’s About Fun, Not Perfection

Some people fish for trophies. Me? I fish for the stories. Yesterday’s trip had it all: a checkpoint that tried to ruin our day, muddy water that looked like chocolate milk, a fish that “spoke Japanese,” three golden catches, and a war with the pesky whitebait. It was chaotic, it was messy, and it was perfect.

Life’s too short to stress about “big wins” or money. I’m just here for the good times—whether that’s catching a huge fish, laughing with my friends, or even losing a bait to a tiny whitebait. If you’re not having fun, what’s the point?

Next time? We’re gonna try Geda Temple again—maybe the checkpoint will be nicer. Or maybe we’ll just find another muddy spot and see what happens. Either way, I’m bringing more beer. And maybe a bigger net. ‘Til then, tight lines, folks!