Finding a Hidden Mountain Reservoir for Fishing: A Beautiful, Frustrating Adventure
Let me set the scene: October 20th, 2024—Thursday, clear skies, and a 2 mph southeast breeze. I had a mission: after signing a lease renewal for my store in Liyang, I was heading to a tiny, unmarked mountain reservoir 10 miles away. The kind of spot that doesn’t show up on Google Maps? Yeah, that’s the one. I was solo, armed with my 6.3-meter 6H rod, 1.2 main line (2.5 meters long), a single size 4 hook, and a mix of earthworms and my secret bait. Spoiler: it was a day of highs (the views!) and lows (the fish… or lack thereof).
Why This Hidden Reservoir? The Hunt for a Quiet Spot
First off, let’s talk about the “why.” I love traditional fishing—long rod, short line, moving from spot to spot. But lately, I’ve been obsessed earlier than usual (I usually stick to traditional from December to March). Blame the recent big carp haul, I guess. But today? No time for bank fishing (the sit-and-wait kind). I had to hit this reservoir, prep spots, and hope for the best.
The reservoir is tiny—so small, in fact, it’s not on any mapping app. I drove around for what felt like forever (okay, maybe 45 minutes) before spotting the turnoff. The drive in was bumpy, surrounded by trees and overgrown grass, and I thought, “This has to be it.” The views? *Chef’s kiss*. Rolling hills, clear water, and that quiet mountain air? I was already hooked—before even casting a line.
Prepping the Spots: Grass Holes, Secret Bait, and Quiet Moves
Step 1: Clearing Grass Holes (The Hard Way)
Traditional fishing means grass holes—small, cleared spots in the weeds where fish hide. But this reservoir? Full of big water chestnuts with thick roots. My 6.3-meter rod was too short, so I grabbed my 8.1-meter rod and used the thin tip to gently pry them open. Why gentle? Fish have their routines! Make too much noise, and they’ll bolt for hours. So it was “stealth mode”—no loud splashing, no rushing. Just slow, careful work.
After 30 minutes, I had 5 grass holes ready. I dropped in my 1982 wine rice (yes, I said 1982—old bait works magic, trust me) with a bait dropper. Then I laid out my secret bait—about a pound (I brought 2 pounds total, just in case). The spots were perfect: near a landslide (rain runoff brings food), under trees, with natural reeds and mulberry fruits floating. But the thick weeds? I needed a grass hook to clear more, but that would make noise. So I stuck to the 5 holes for now.
Step 2: Waiting (and Waiting) for the Bite
I left to sign the lease, grabbed lunch, and hurried back. By 1 PM, I was set up: earthworm on the hook, cast into the first grass hole. Wait. Nothing. I tried the next. Nothing. Then the third, fourth, fifth. All quiet. I thought, “Did I miss the bite? It’s been 4 hours—bait should’ve settled.”
Then… *boom*. The float sank. I thought, “Yes! Big crucian carp!” But nope. A huge minnow. It dragged the worm around like a toy, and I just watched. Ugh. Then more waiting. The woods were empty—wild pigeons fluttered, making weird cooing sounds. Creepy, honestly. I told myself, “Stick until 2 PM. If nothing, I’m out.”
The “Catch” (Spoiler: It’s a Minnow)
2 PM rolled around. I checked all 5 holes again. Nada. I was ready to pack up. But then—wait, the minnow? It was a big one, I guess. So I counted it as my “catch.” Better than zero, right? (Okay, maybe not, but I needed a win.)
Post-Fishing: A Win with Fishing Gear (Finally!)
On the way home, I picked up a package from Fishing Home: 4 rod wraps I’d redeemed with points. Free stuff! I opened them—soft, good grip. Perfect for my new rod coming on Double 11 (China’s big sale day). I texted customer service to ask how many I’d redeemed, and their name was… *Minnow*. I laughed so hard. Today’s minnow was everywhere.
Fishing Home is my go-to for bait and gear. Fresh stock, real stuff, and great sales—stock up during promotions, trust me. Their bait works, their gear lasts, and customer service? No hassle. Even if the minnow was a letdown, the free wraps made my day.
Final Thoughts: The Beauty Was Worth It
Was today a “success”? If you count fish, no. But the views? The quiet? The adventure of finding a hidden spot? 10/10. Sometimes fishing isn’t about the catch—it’s about the drive, the grass holes, the weird pigeon sounds, and the free gear. I’ll be back to this reservoir, maybe with a grass hook this time. And next time? I’m catching a real fish. (Or at least a bigger minnow.)
