Confessions of a Hunter: Stink Bait Hot Pockets

By Andy Anderson

Growing up I was obsessed with catfishing; I would go every chance I had and as I was about nine or 10 years of age, I had a lot of time for it. I collected several good poles, had a few secret places that I reserved for just myself, but my buddies, Jason, Mika, Gary and I had a spot we went to all the time.

It was a walk, a few miles down to the Trinity River. There were two large ponds next to the river that was a little hidden oasis no one knew about. We had this place all to ourselves, or so we thought. One afternoon we were set up fishing as usual, pulling in some small ones ever so often when an old man standing on the ledge above us caught my eye. I said hello and invited him down to fish with us, told him he could use one of my poles; I had four of them.

To read more pick up a copy of the October 2019 NTFR issue. To subscribe call 940-872-5922.