Waking Up Early for Chenzi Lake: The Adventure Begins
April 6th started like any other fishing trip—up before the sun, gear slung over our shoulders, and three of us (me, Old Jia, and Jiang) buzzing to get to Chenzi Lake. We hit the road around 6 a.m., and let me tell you, that drive felt like forever—until we finally spotted the lake’s edge. The path to the big lake? A narrow dirt trail lined with bright green grass and wildflowers that looked like they’d just popped up overnight. Fresh, vibrant, and so pretty I almost forgot we were there to fish!
When we reached the lake, the first thing I noticed was the knee-high reeds swaying in the breeze—like a bunch of tiny green flags waving at us. And hey, we weren’t the only early birds! Two guys were already there, rods in hand, casting away like pros. Score—we knew the spot had potential.
Finding the Perfect Spot: Traditional Fishing vs. Taiwanese Fishing
We stumbled on a raised dirt ridge right above the water—ideal for standing and casting to both sides. Wild fishing spots like this are pure gold, right? But wait, Jiang (our go-to Taiwanese fishing expert) frowned. The water was too shallow, and there were way too many weeds for his setup. So he bailed—headed to a small river that just split off the lake. Smart move, though: the north bank let him fish both the river and the lake. Lucky guy.
Old Jia and I? We stuck to traditional fishing—this spot was made for it. I took the west end of the ridge, where it cut off abruptly. The water was so deep even my waders couldn’t get me across! I stared at the other side like a kid eyeing candy—looked like a whole new fishing paradise over there. Maybe next time…
Weather Forecasts Lie! (And We Paid the Price)
Let’s talk about the biggest fail of the day: the weather. I checked THREE different forecast apps—all said “cloudy” with hourly updates promising sun. So we left our rain gear at home. Big mistake. By mid-morning, the sky opened up. Raindrops started pitter-pattering on the lake, and suddenly we were soaked. Ugh—why do forecasts always lie when you need them most?
And don’t get me started on the wind and fog! The apps said 3 mph winds and fog—nope. No wind, no fog, just rain. But here’s the kicker: the apps also said it was a “bad day for fishing.” Ha! They couldn’t have been more wrong.
Setting Up: Baiting, Casting, and That Direction Confusion
First step: making nests. I cast east into the gaps between the water plants, and west into the open water. Old Jia did the same—we wanted to cover all our bases.
Quick side note: Does anyone else get directionally challenged at the lake? Even with a clear sky, I mix up east and west! On cloudy days, I have to stare at the houses nearby to figure it out. My brain just goes, “Nope, that can’t be north!” It’s so weird—like my inner compass takes a day off.
The Fishing Action: Red Worms, Rain, and Near-Misses
Old Jia was the first to cast—his float-and-hook setup was on point. I sat on my tiny folding stool, scrolling through my phone: checking if my new floats and silicone beads had shipped, and peeking at my fishing forum rewards (turns out the bag I’d been begging for was on its way! Shoutout to the forum mods—you guys rock).
Then I heard it: a splash! Old Jia had a fish. Time to get serious. I rigged up my rod, threaded a red worm onto the hook, and joined the fun. I fished my nests in order—south to north—and let’s just say, the fish were hungry.
First catch? A little crucian carp. Small, but hey—every fish counts! I snapped a photo (gotta document the log, right?) before tossing it into my bucket.
Rainy Day Struggles: Cold, Wet, and Slippery Rods
By 8 a.m., the rain picked up. Big, fat drops hitting the lake, making it look like someone was tossing pebbles into a puddle. The temperature dropped fast too—those high-altitude raindrops brought all the cold with them. My clothes were soaked through, my hands were numb, and don’t even mention the rod: even though it’s “anti-lock,” the rain made the sections stick. Every time I tried to reel in a fish, I’d fumble with the rod, and bam—fish gone, back into the water. Old Jia lost a few that way too. So frustrating!
The rain didn’t let up, either. It’d stop for 30 minutes, then start again for 10—like it was playing a game with us. By 1:15 p.m., it poured nonstop for 75 minutes. I was shivering so bad I almost packed up. But then I looked around: 10+ other fishermen, all traditional style, no rain gear, just toughing it out. If they could do it, so could I.
Switching to Earthworms: Game-Changer!
After hours of threading tiny red worms (seriously, I needed reading glasses to see them!), I was done. I remembered I had earthworms in my bait box—why not give them a try? Best decision ever. Those worms wiggled like crazy in the water, and the fish went nuts for them. Way better than red worms—faster bites, less hassle. Why didn’t I think of this earlier?
When the rain finally stopped around 2:30 p.m., I tossed two new nests into the water. 30 minutes later, I checked them—both had fish! Chenzi Lake’s fish population is no joke. Every nest we made had bites. Unreal.
The Big Reveal: Who Won the Haul?
We packed up at 4 p.m.—exhausted, wet, but grinning like idiots. Let’s cut to the chase:
- Master Jia (yep, I promoted him to “Junior Fishing Master” on the spot) crushed it: 15 pounds! That’s an epic haul for a rainy day.
- Me? Second place with 7 pounds. Not bad, but I’m definitely gunning for Master Jia next time.
- Jiang? 6.5 pounds. Solid, but he missed out on the ridge action.
Final Thoughts (And a Quick Favor)
Let’s be real: rainy day fishing sucks. You’re cold, wet, and your gear feels like it’s falling apart. But man, that haul? Worth every shiver. Chenzi Lake is a hidden gem—if you ever get the chance, go. Just bring rain gear. Trust me.
Oh, and one last thing: I take tons of photos for these logs, and it takes forever. If you liked this story, drop a like or a comment. It makes all the cold, wet, fish-dropping moments worth it. Thanks, guys—until next time, tight lines!
