With fall coming on, it is the day of the Crappie fisherman here in Kentucky. One cannot help but be breathless with exhiliration as he or she steps out to see the sun rising over the yellow and orange leaves that embrace the Kentucky countryside. Another beautiful day, another fish to be caught.

My cousin and I decided, this past weekend, that we were going to take our first fall fishing trip together. He lives in Louisville, about a two hour drive from my home in Muhlenberg County, so we only take about four trips a year together. Our first is known as our stupid trip. This one is around January when the countryside is covered with snow and ice. It is a trip of impatience, as we have been cooped up all winter long. The only thing we catch is the flu, but it’s fun anyway. Our second trip is the spring trip where we usually haul in our load of striped bass. It’s one of my personal favorites. The one we went on this past weekend was our third trip, the Crappie Run, we have named it. The fourth one is our other stupid trip, and it won’t roll around until late November when the world is frozen again.

 Nevertheless, our Crappie Run this year turned out to be an interesting one. It seems that the fish have become confused. My first minnow on the hook produced a bluegill. Nothing too unusual there. They aren’t real bright fish and would eat their own tail if they could get it in front of them. The second was a catfish, as was the third, fourth, and fifth.

I look to my cousin and I ask him, “where are the Crappie?”

“I have one biting now. Just a second and I’ll show you,” was his reply. So I waited.

Now, one thing that you must understand about my cousin, Scott, is that he is an extremist. If the speed limit is 55, you can bet he will be roaring down the highway at 70 mph. If he is going out to have a drink or two with his buddies, expect a call from the bar saying that you need to pick him up because he is passed out on the floor. Scott always goes one notch over the line. The same holds true with his fishing.

I watch as his bobber takes off suddenly. As expected, Scott jerks with all his strength, sending a bobber and a hook towards me at somewhere around the speed of light. I manage to avoid it, as I have much practice doing so. I then pick up his hook to find a pair of fish lips hanging off it.

So, if you are ever fishing in Kentucky and catch a Crappie with no lips, you know what happened!