From Raw Materials to the Table: A One-Stop Fishing Adventure (Mid-Autumn 2024)

Okay, let’s cut to the chase-this wasn’t supposed to be a fishing trip. Blame the pandemic. Yeah, that messy, unpredictable thing that turned my “quick work trip to Mianyang” into a “wait, how long am I stuck here?” situation. 3+3+N? What even is that math? I’m a regular guy-clock in, clock out, chase those silver coins-so when I couldn’t get back to Chengdu, I thought, “Fine. If the universe is forcing me to take a break, I’ll take it… with a fishing rod.”

Prepping for the Unplanned: Gear & Grit

First rule of fishing (or any forced adventure): pack smart. Let’s list the essentials I grabbed after my 9-to-5 shift:

• A beat-up motorcycle (my trusty “Mama” bike-don’t ask the name, it’s a long story)
• Two rods: a 3.9m no-brand special (my “budget warrior”) and a 5.4m “Hua Lao Tou” (the fancy old guy-worth every penny for those big bites)
• The “old three” bait set (you know, the classic combo every angler swears by)
• Earthworms (fresh from the garden-nothing beats live bait for finicky fish)
• Homemade rice wine bait (secret recipe? Maybe. Does it work? Ask the fish)
• Two packs of grain bait (for those days when the fish are feeling fancy)

Then I called my folks back home-“Hey, I’m stuck in Mianyang… yeah, fishing. No, I’m not avoiding work. Promise.”-and crashed hard. Woke up at 6 a.m. sharp (old work habit, can’t shake it) and hit the road. 50+ km one way, stopped for a cheap breakfast (fried dough sticks and soybean milk-chef’s kiss), and rolled into the fishing spot at 7:30 a.m.

First Stop: The Weir That Broke My Heart (Sort Of)

Got there, and local anglers were already set up. I walked over, curious: “How’s the bite?” One old guy squinted at my rods and said, “Edge is garbage-full of tiny ‘ma ma fish’ (those annoying little guys that steal bait). Gotta fish the middle. Need at least a 7.2m rod.”

Wait, 7.2m for DAIJIN (carp)? That’s overkill! My arms would be screaming by noon. I nodded, backed away, and thought, “Nah, I’ll find my own spot.” Scoped the area, found a weir-water flowing, so no drift, right? Measured the depth. “Perfect!” I thought. Oh, how wrong I was.

Set up, cast, waited… and waited. Not a single bite. Not even a nibble. I was a “pilot” (angler slang for catching nothing) all morning. Ugh. Should’ve listened to the old guy? Maybe. But stubborn me? No way.

Rescue: Two New Spots = Two New Battles

“People move, they thrive-trees stay, they die,” my grandpa always said. So I packed up, hiked to two new spots, and dropped two bait piles: one grain, one rice wine. Waited 30 minutes (rule of thumb for fresh bait), then cast again.

First cast: “Bite! Bite!” I set the hook… nothing. Second: same. Third: finally, a tug! Reeled in, and-surprise! A redtail (a feisty freshwater fish). Oh! That’s why I wasn’t catching carp-these guys were stealing the bait!

Okay, redtails it is. Switched tactics, and for an hour? It was magic. Every cast, a bite. Until… I got lazy. My leader knot was loose, but I thought, “Eh, it’ll hold.” Spoiler: it didn’t. Big bite, line snapped, fish gone. And then? The spot went dead. No more bites. Lesson learned: CHANGE THE LEADER WHEN IT’S WORN. Don’t be me.

We ended that session at 8 redtails. Not bad, but that lost fish stung. Also? Tiny “ma ma fish” were swarming the edges now. Annoying as hell. Time to switch spots again.

The Main Channel: Where the Small Carp Reigned

Walked to the main river channel-depth around 2m. Dropped a grain bait pile, thought, “What the hell, let’s try.” Sat down, sipped some water, and-boom! First bite. Reeled in: a tiny “xiao ban ban” (small carp, like 1-15cm long). Cute. Then another. Then another. Then another. Suddenly, I couldn’t stop!

These little guys were hungry! Every cast, a bite. I lost count after 20. It was chaotic, fun, and exactly what I needed after the redtail heartbreak. No big fish, but who cares? They were fighting, and I was catching something. Win-win.

From Rod to Stove: The Final Step (AKA My Favorite Part)

By late afternoon, my hands were tired, my bucket was full, and I was ready to call it a day. Packed up, loaded the bike, and headed home. But wait-this trip’s name is “From Raw Materials to the Table: A One-Stop Adventure.” So I didn’t stop at catching. I cooked.

Got home, cleaned the fish (tedious, but worth it), and hit the stove. Fried the small carp (crispy skin, juicy inside), steamed the redtails (light, fresh), and made a fish soup with the scraps. My roommate walked in, sniffed, and said, “Is that… fishing catch?” I grinned. “Yep. Fresh from the river to your plate.”

Wrap-Up: Pandemic Silver Linings?

So here’s the thing: I went into this trip mad about being stuck. But by the end? I was grateful. Grateful for the quiet (well, quiet except for the fish biting), grateful for the fresh air, grateful for a meal I caught with my own two hands. The pandemic sucked-don’t get me wrong-but it forced me to slow down. To stop chasing coins for a second and chase fish instead.

To all my fellow anglers: Don’t skip the leader check. Don’t ignore the local tips (but also, don’t be afraid to try your own spot). And if life throws you a “3+3+N” curveball? Turn it into a fishing trip. You might end up with a full bucket and a full stomach.

Oh, and one last thing: if you’re ever in Mianyang or Santai, hit me up. I’ll show you the main channel spot. Just bring a 5.4m rod (or a 7.2m if you’re brave) and some grain bait. Catch you on the water!