2024 Wild Fishing Basics: My Year of Feeding Fish and Landing Giants at Dryinghu Reservoir

Let’s be real—retirement can get boring fast. After months of mindless daily walks that felt more like a chore than a hobby, I needed something new. Something that got me outside, kept my brain sharp, and gave me a reason to wake up excited. That’s when I stumbled into the world of wild fishing… but not just any fishing. I became a part-time fish feeder and full-time angler at Dryinghu Reservoir, and 2024 turned into a year of trial, error, and some seriously big catches. Let me break down every messy, exciting detail—no fancy jargon, just real talk about what worked (and what totally flopped).

From Hiking Boredom to Fish Feeding & Fishing: How It All Started

First off, I had zero clue what I was doing. Like, zero. I’d never held a fishing rod before, let alone fed a school of wild fish. But Dryinghu Reservoir looked too pretty to pass up—rolling hills, crystal-clear water, and the promise of fresh air every day. So I signed on as a volunteer fish feeder, thinking “how hard can it be?” Spoiler: it was harder than I thought… at first.

Half 1 of 2024: The “I Have No Idea What I’m Doing” Phase

My first six months were basically a crash course in “what not to do.” I showed up for 8-hour shifts, early mornings to late afternoons, feeding fish and trying to learn to fish on the side. But here’s the thing: I wasn’t putting in enough effort. I’d feed a little corn here, a handful of pellets there, but I never stuck around to watch how the fish reacted. I’d grab my rod for 10 minutes before getting distracted by a bird or a pretty sunset. No wonder I saw zero results—no fish growing faster, no fish caught. I felt like a total fraud, honestly.

By mid-year, I was fed up with my own laziness. I thought, “If I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna do it right.” So I made a plan: no more half-assed feeding, no more 10-minute fishing sessions. I was going all in.

Half 2 of 2024: Ditching the City, Living on the Reservoir

That’s when I made the big move: I moved into a tiny cabin at Shaguozhai, right on the reservoir. No more driving 45 minutes each way—now I woke up to the sound of fish jumping and went to bed to the hum of crickets. This was my new home, and my new mission: feed the fish like they were my kids, and fish like my life depended on it (okay, maybe not that dramatic, but close).

First step: step up the feeding game. I switched from random handfuls to measured amounts—600 pounds of corn and 2000 pounds of distillers’ grains over six months. Why? Because I learned that wild fish need consistent, nutrient-dense food to grow big. And let’s do the math: if 1 pound of feed makes a fish gain 0.3 pounds, 800 pounds of feed should make 2640 pounds of fish. That’s a lot of big fish swimming around.

Next step: finally learn to fish… the right way. Before this, I’d just toss a line and hope. Now? I watched every YouTube tutorial I could find, pestered every old angler I met, and even begged for tips from two local pros: Ye Sheng and Mu Heping. They didn’t just give me advice—Mu even gave me his secret homemade super-smelly bait. That stuff? Game changer.

My Go-To Fishing Methods (No Fancy Gear Required)

Let’s get into the basics—because that’s what this is all about: wild fishing basics that actually work for newbies like me. I didn’t use any high-tech gear (still don’t, tbh). Here’s what stuck:

1. Long-Line Fishing (AKA “Throwing It Far”)

I’m talking 130 meters out from the shore. Why? Because wild fish in big reservoirs like Dryinghu don’t hang out right by the bank—they’re scared of people. So I used a method called “sea fishing rod with a static line” (basically a long rod that lets me cast super far) and “floating bead slightly off the bottom.” That means the bait hangs just above the lake floor, where big fish like carp and grass carp love to feed.

Pro tip from Mu: “If you can’t cast 100+ meters, you’re not fishing for the big ones.” Turns out he was right. I caught almost all my big fish with this method.

2. Homemade Winter Bait (My Secret Weapon)

Here’s the tea: I still can’t tie a proper fishing knot. I still don’t know how to adjust a float. But I can make winter bait that makes fish go crazy. Winter is tough—fish eat way less when the water’s cold. So I experimented for a month, mixing different ingredients (no, I’m not giving away the exact recipe… sorry, not sorry) until I had something that worked.

First test: December 3rd, 2024. Air temp 3°C, water temp 15°C. I tossed my bait out, and by nightfall? I landed a 5-pound carp. Insane. After a month of testing, my strike rate (how often fish bit) hit 80%. That’s unheard of for winter fishing around here. I was low-key proud of myself.

2024’s Big Catches: The Numbers (And The Drama)

Let’s cut to the good stuff: what did I actually catch? 18 fish, total weight 207 pounds. Average weight per fish? 11.5 pounds. The biggest? A 24-pound beast. But here’s the catch (pun intended): I also lost 9 fish. Yep, 9. Let’s break down the highlights:

Hot Months: August & December

• August: 14 fish, 152 pounds. Mostly grass carp (9) and carp (5). This was my peak—fish were going crazy for the bait, and the water was warm enough that they were feeding non-stop.
• December: 4 fish, 55 pounds. 2 carp, 2 black carp. The black carp were the real stars here—one 22 pounds, one 23 pounds. And get this: black carp have “fish stones” (otoliths) in their heads that are super valuable. I got one from a 23-pound black carp, and it was worth more than the fish itself. Double win!

The Ones That Got Away (AKA My Biggest Regrets)

Ugh, the 9 fish that escaped. Why? Because I’m still a newbie. I didn’t know how to “play” the fish (meaning let it run instead of yanking the rod). I got too excited, pulled too hard, and they snapped the line or got away. Lesson learned: patience is more important than strength. Next year, I’m gonna practice my “fish taming” skills.

What I Learned (The Hard Way) About Wild Fishing Basics

2024 wasn’t just about catching fish—it was about learning the real basics that no YouTube video tells you. Here’s the real talk:

1. Feeding = Fishing Success

You can’t catch big fish if there’s no big fish. I used to think “just use good bait” was enough. Nope. You have to feed the fish consistently, so they learn to trust the area and grow big. My 600 pounds of corn and 2000 pounds of distillers’ grains? That’s what made the big fish show up.

2. Local Tips Beat YouTube (Mostly)

YouTube is great for basics, but local anglers know the lake. Ye and Mu told me things I never would’ve learned online: “The carp here love corn at 8 AM,” “Black carp only bite at night in winter,” “Don’t cast too close to the reeds—fish hide there but are scared of lines.” Those tips made all the difference.

3. It’s Okay to Be a Newbie

I still can’t adjust a float. I still mess up knots. But that’s okay. Fishing isn’t about being perfect—it’s about having fun. I spent every day outside, breathing fresh air, and talking to other anglers. That’s the real win, not the number of fish I caught.

What’s Next for 2025? (Spoiler: No More Lost Fish)

2025 goals? Simple:

• Stop losing fish. I’m gonna practice my “playing the fish” skills every day. No more yanking the rod like a maniac.
• Learn hand fishing (the rod with a float). Yeah, I still don’t know how to adjust a float. Embarrassing, but true. 2025 is the year I fix that.
• Share the fun. I want to teach other newbies—retirees like me, kids, anyone—how to get into wild fishing without feeling overwhelmed. Because it’s not about being a pro. It’s about being outside and having a good time.

Oh, and one more thing: I’m gonna keep making that winter bait. It’s my secret, but if you’re nice, I might let you try a sample. No promises, though.

Final Thought: Fishing Isn’t About the Catch (It’s About the Day)

At the end of the day, 2024 wasn’t about the 118 fish or the 24-pound carp. It was about waking up to the sun over the reservoir, eating lunch on the shore with other anglers, and feeling like I was part of something bigger. Retirement used to be boring. Now? Every day is an adventure. I can’t wait to see what 2025 brings—more fish, more mistakes, more sunrises. Who’s with me?

Oh, and if you’re ever at Dryinghu Reservoir and see a guy with a long rod, a homemade bait bucket, and a big smile? That’s me. Come say hi. We’ll swap stories (and maybe a little bait).