Getting Up Early Only to Be Late: The Holiday Fishing Bonanza That Got Away

Hey there, fellow anglers and adventure seekers! It’s Desert Donkey here, and let me tell you—this fishing trip was one for the books… but not in the way I hoped. If you’ve ever had big plans for a holiday fishing spree that went sideways, you’ll feel every bit of this story. Let’s dive in!

The Holiday FOMO: Gotta Catch That Last Fishing Fix

As the 7-day National Day holiday was winding down, I was getting antsy. I mean, seven whole days and I hadn’t had a proper “fishing getaway”? That’s a crime against angling, right? So I hit up my buddy Big Brother and we decided to chase the holiday’s last fishing tail—literally. We wanted that holiday fishing bonanza before it slipped away for another year.

First, we brainstormed spots: Laiwu? Tai’an’s Wen River? But with pandemic concerns, we nixed anything outside Jinan’s borders. Safety first, but man, did that limit our options. After some digging, we settled on Jiyang—within Jinan, perfect. But just to be safe, we had a backup: Huihe Street’s Huihe River. Gotta have a Plan B, am I right?

Pre-Trip Prep: Alarm Clocks and Breakfast (The Important Stuff)

We got everything ready: rods, reels, bait, snacks, and—thank goodness—our trusty engineering shovel and tow rope. I set my alarm, crashed hard, and woke up early to whip up a simple breakfast. Gotta fuel up for a full day of fishing, right? Nothing fancy, just something to keep me going until dinner.

Off we went, excited but a little nervous. Little did I know, the adventure was about to start before we even reached the water.

The Great Mud Pit Disaster: When Off-Roading Goes Wrong

We were almost at the river when we hit a problem: a deep, muddy ditch cutting through the field. My car? I managed to get through by shoveling some dirt into the ruts. But Big Brother’s car? Oh no—his wheels sank right in, caked with mud, no traction at all. We tried digging, pushing, even using the shovel to clear the mud… nothing. For a second, I thought we’d be stuck there all day.

But wait—we had a tow rope! My car was parked on solid ground, so I hooked up the rope, gunned it, and pulled him out. Phew! That was a close call. Let this be a lesson: always carry a tow rope and a shovel when fishing off the beaten path. You never know when you’ll need them.

First Spot: Sunrise, Steep Banks, and a Big Disappointment

We finally made it to the first fishing spot as the sun was coming up. The sky was pink and orange, but I could barely see my float—too dark. First order of business: mix the bait. Since it was getting cold, the bait needed extra time to develop that perfect texture. While I waited, I started clearing a spot on the steep bank. With the engineering shovel, I hacked away until I had a tiny platform for my tackle box. Tested the water, and my net just reached the surface—perfect.

By then, I was sweating bullets, but looking up at the sunrise? Wow. No city noise, no skyscrapers blocking the view—just cool wind on my hot skin and that golden sun rising over the fields. For a second, all the stress melted away. But then… reality hit.

Water Depth and Current: The First Red Flag

Once the sun was up, I measured the water depth. Two float lengths? And it was moving—fast. Current = bad for steady fishing. I stuck it out for an hour, caught a few tiny bitterlings (you know, those little guys that look like they’re made of glass?), and then I thought, “This isn’t working.” Time for Plan B.

Plan B: Huihe River—Yellow Water and No Bites

We packed up and headed to Huihe River. When we got there, the water was yellow—must’ve rained recently. I asked a few local anglers how they were doing. “No bites,” they said. “Zip, zero, nada.” Great. Now what? Go home? But I was determined not to let this holiday fishing trip be a total bust.

Desperation Move: Downstream to Vanke City Light

I pulled out my phone, checked the map, and decided to head downstream to Vanke City Light. There were more reeds there—reeds mean fish, right? Let’s hope so. We set up there, and right away, I noticed the current was still strong. So I grabbed my 4.5-meter rod, adjusted the float without a hook to be level with the water, then added hooks and set it to 3 eyes. I even cut the leader short—less drag in the current.

The First Cast: Tiny Bites, Tiny Fish

I cast my line, thinking, “If this doesn’t work, I’m going home for lunch.” The float danced—movement! But I couldn’t hook anything. Maybe the hooks were too big? I swapped them for smaller ones, and boom—first bite! It was a tiny fish, but hey, a bite is a bite. I kept casting, telling myself, “If there are small fish, there must be big ones nearby.”

Slow and Steady: The Fish Start Getting Bigger

Sure enough, after a while, the fish got a little bigger. Not huge, but bigger than the first ones. I didn’t have a hot streak—just a fish here, a fish there, over the next few hours. But you know what? I was the only one catching anything on that stretch of the river. That’s a win, right?

Final Fish Count: Not a Bonanza, But a Memory

We fished until 3 PM. No crazy catches, no “I caught a monster” stories. But I had fun. I laughed when we got stuck in the mud, I sighed when the first spot was a dud, and I cheered when I finally hooked a fish. At the end, I gave all my catch to a nearby angler—he was thrilled. I didn’t need the fish; I needed the adventure.

So here’s the thing: sometimes, the best fishing trips aren’t the ones where you catch a ton of fish. They’re the ones where you problem-solve, enjoy the sunrise, and make memories with a buddy. Even though I got up early only to be late (in terms of finding a good spot), I wouldn’t trade that day for anything. Well… maybe a few more big fish, but hey—next time, right?

What’s your worst (or best) fishing trip disaster? Drop a comment below—I’d love to hear it! Until next time, tight lines, and don’t forget your tow rope.