When Fishing is Your Life

He left the fisherman Falcon with destination to a corner that years ago us full of flakes Morochas, years ago I say because unfortunately was ‘looted’ by “Orcs” to merciless armed with traps, jars and cursed trammel pillage those great dientudas beasts that made us take that awful road with so much joy… was a magnet for me, because it is not…

We also put all the desire and some heirs of those monstrous Morochas told us they will not to bend. They said ‘this’ with a mixture of joy and bitterness, we ended the day between lightning and thunder storm that threatened all afternoon was coming.

As decoys use frogs and some lures of a craftsman of my city ZAPATA LURE, always on surface. For these places, we always use the bait casting mode. Teams with rods up to 25 lb with rotating reel of low profile nylon (not multi by the prevailing vegetation cutting you the multi sooner or later). We were a few 4/5 hs wading into the lagoon with feet stuck in the mud that reaches the knees practically since it hinders costa.

The water arose just minutes from journey, tremendous downpour! Lightning, Thunder, wind, soapy mud leaving the old Falcon DAKAR-style wheels. Until then only a story more…

The thing would be ugly. To turn on the wipers a chisperio sprung from the fusilera. The Falcon left us without lights, without wipers in a storm… stop was not option, if we stopped we sink! To follow travel blind then, 20 km skating in a horrendous way! Between charged, laughter and rays were coming, don’t leave me to legs…