From Rod Toss to Net Dunk: Who Else But Me? My Crazy Fishing Day at Bailixia

Old saying goes, fishing’s always fun—but today? Today was next-level nuts. If they handed out awards for most chaotic fishing trip, I’d take the gold. No question. Let me spill the tea on my third trip to Bailixia (that’s in Baoding, China, for anyone curious) and why I’m still laughing (and maybe a little sore) about it.

How It All Started: Last-Minute Detour & a Sleepy Morning

Wednesday morning, I drove to Baoding for errands. Wrapped up around 4 PM, and guess what? My brain went, “Screw plans—let’s hit Bailixia!” It’s only 100+ km away, so an hour later, I was off the highway, hunting for a hotel. No biggie.

Next morning? I woke up at 6 AM… without an alarm. Oops. Panicked, grabbed my gear, and bolted to Xinggezhuang—my go-to spot for big crucian carp (that’s a type of freshwater fish, for newbies). Got there at 6, set up my 4.5m stream rod, 1.5 main line, 0.8 leader, size 1 float, size 2 barbless hooks, and good old nightcrawlers. Two other Beijing guys set up downstream, so I wasn’t alone… yet.

The Slow Start: Waiting… and Waiting… and Waiting

By 6:30, I was cast out, staring at the float like it owed me money. First hour? Nada. Second hour? Still nada. I’m thinking, “What the hell? Is the fish on strike?” Finally, at 8:30, the float twitched—then popped up! I set the hook, and… ugh. A tiny crucian, less than 2 ounces. Sent it back to its parents. No way I’m keeping babies.

Weather was garbage too: light fog, no sun, zero visibility. I planned to leave at 10, but with one tiny fish in two hours? Nope. Decided to run back to the hotel, check out, grab my luggage, and come back. Begged the Beijing guy to watch my stuff (shoutout to him—total legend) and zoomed off. 30 minutes later, I was back.

Finally, Some Action (But Mostly Small Fish)

Fresh worm on the hook, and boom—first cast, a 2-ouncer! Kept that one. Then, suddenly, the bite turned on… but only for tiny crucians. Half an hour, 7-8 babies. I stuffed ’em in the net (planned to sort later) and thought, “Okay, maybe today’s not a total bust.”

Sun came out around 10, so I dragged out my rarely used umbrella. Sat there thinking, “C’mon little guys—let’s dance!” Then the Beijing guy wandered over. He’d caught 20+ crucians (some over 3 ounces!) and was packing up. “My spot’s better—you should take it,” he said. Duh, I’m not stupid. Grabbed my gear and moved.

Only problem? His spot needed a 5.4m rod. Mine was broken. So I grabbed my 6.3m rod (overkill, but desperate times) and used the same line. Long rod, short line—my old trick. Worked! First cast, another tiny crucian. No more waiting. Win.

The Great Wind Apocalypse: Rod Goes for a Swim

By 11, I’m tired. Stomach’s growling like a bear. So I folded the umbrella, clipped on my safety rope (thank god I did), and crawled into my car for a snack and nap. Milk, bread, and a power nap—perfect.

Next thing I know? Wind howling like a horror movie. Opened my eyes, and my umbrella was lying on the ground. Tried to open the car door—stuck! Pushed hard, and… my rod was in the river. “WHAT THE HELL?!” I yelled. Looked around—all other anglers were gone. Just me, the wind, and my rod taking a bath.

Panic mode? A little. Ran to the trunk, rummaged through my gear. Found my 4.5m spinning rod (bought last year in Caofeidian) with a reel and line. Grabbed my hook remover, bent it into a big hook, tied it on. First time using a spinning rod—couldn’t cast for crap. Tried 5 times, 6 times… finally hooked the rod! Pulled it in slow, and—wait a second—there was a tiny crucian on the hook! Did the fish drag it in, or the wind? Who knows. Don’t care. My rod was back.

Cleaned up my gear (wind was 7-8 knots, no joke) and checked my net: 50 tiny crucians. Kept 15, hooked up the aerator for the drive home. Then I thought, “Wait—there’s a small side channel upstream. Wind’s calmer there. Why not?” Also, didn’t want to hit Beijing rush hour. Sold.

Side Channel Shenanigans: Net Takes a Dive

Moved to the side channel—super narrow, so 4.5m rod was perfect. Threw two handfuls of rice bait (my go-to) and went back to the car to wait for wind to die. By 3 PM, it was calm enough. Tried a new trick: only one worm per hook, so the head and tail wiggled. Game changer.

First cast, 5 minutes later—fish on! Tiny, but still a win. Then another, another… one was almost 2 ounces. Kept the bigger ones, released the babies. Sun was out, fog gone—finally, a nice day. I was thinking, “Today might not be so bad after all!”

Then 4:30 hit. Wind picked up again—this time, south wind (morning was north). Great. Now, the channel flows north to south, so all the floating gunk (leaves, trash) blew right to my spot. Couldn’t see the float for crap. “Okay, fine—one last fish, then I’m out,” I said.

Waited till 5:30. Finally, a bite! Caught one, stuffed it in the net. Now, the net was dirty—so I held it upside down in the river to wash it. And… *plop*. Net fell in. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” I yelled. But hey—saved the rod earlier, so I grabbed the same hook remover, tied it to a line, and fished the net out. Easy peasy. (Note to self: never wash a net over fast water again.)

The Drive Home: 12 Hours of Fishing, 150 km of Traffic

Packed up at 6 PM, started driving back to Beijing. Listened to “The Story of Time” on repeat, did some mental math: 6 AM to 6 PM—12 hours on the river. Drank water, ate bread, drove 150 km at night. My body’s still in one piece! So what if I only kept a handful of fish? So what if my rod and net took a swim? It was a day I’ll never forget.

Next time I go fishing? I’m bringing two umbrellas, a net with a leash, and maybe a life jacket for my gear. Because let’s be real—who else has a day where their rod and net both “go fishing” without them? Only me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.