Big Tennessee Gar....

The Late May sun set low in the Western sky as he approached the half-submerged willow trees. Ripples appeared as he drifted ever closer, he scanned the water for any movement, ready to gently stow the push -pole at moment’s notice. The sounds of trashing fish filled evening air as the spawning carp danced their age-old waltz that has become such a welcome rite of spring.

Our friend’s eyes soon become drawn to a brown, shapely figure that slowly became visible in the shallow what that lay before him. He reached for his bow that lay ready at his side, as his fingers applied pressure to the bowstring he soon found himself at full draw. This is the point where the logical mind subsides to that of raw, instinctive reactions and reflexes that can only be gained from repetitive shooting, achieved from similar outings throughout years past. Things happen quickly, and details become lost in the fleeting seconds, as the fish descends to deeper water and the archer releases the arrow; An arrow set aflite on a skewed course predetermined by our archer using calculated leads that could only be learned from past experiences.

For a moment time stood still, and our fisherman held his breath, uncertain of what had taken place, only when he heard the tale-tell sounds of line stripping quickly from his reel did his mind find ease. The sportsman grasp the line to slow the fish’s frantic run, he then began the task of bring his prize to the boat. Emotions filled his thoughts as he brought the large Mirror carp into his craft and admired it’s natural beauty and girth.

The sun was now sinking fast into the hills, the night sounds soon surrounded him with the familiar eerie tones. Some would think at this point, that his day’s event would soon be over, however upon the flip of a switch his generator fired up and the nightscape became aglow with light. This is bowfishing and the night is still young……….