Town Lake

The fascination of fishing is rooted in the unexpected. But just as the unexpected can be gratifying or elating, it can be saddening and frustrating. It can sneak up on you from behind, hit you over the head, and throw you into the dirt. And just when you think there's no more you can take, it will kick you in the face. This is a lesson that the old Town Lake in Texas has taught me well, but it also is a lesson that ends - again - with the unexpected.

I used to live in Austin for a full year right before the carp potential of its Town Lake was discovered. I had come over from Germany to study for an exchange year at the local university, living in a small apartment some ten minutes north of the lake. At that point, carp fishing had been the main part of my life for some twelve years, so it is needless to say that I did not travel without all necessary gear. One day I had witnessed some very big carp cruising through the margin weed right off Mozart's Café on Lake Austin, and soon I was inspired to take a closer look at the Colorado River system. Very soon I had singled out Town Lake as the place to go for - it just "smelled" right. I started by exploring the lake in a canoe, which I had rented by the Barton Spring pool, and with a depth finder, which I had borrowed from a friend from school. After a long day of paddling, I had found my spot of choice: A nicely secluded swim with some very interesting bars and gullies in front of it. It was on a quiet section of the lake, just a little bit beyond Mopac on Town Lake's west end. I went on to pre-bait the spot two times with a bucket of corn, using an awkward peddle boat from a nearby rental place.

For a reason that today I can only subscribe to fate, I had never cast a line into Town Lake. Despite my exploration and pre-baiting efforts, I never got around to fish the lake. When I later found out how the story unfolded, I used to blame it on my university program, which had tightened up, or on an unlucky coincidence. I just could not acknowledge that it was my own lack of dedication that was to blame: It was too hard to bear that one year after my half-hearted endeavors at Town Lake, the venue had been discovered to be - at that point and still as I write this - the primary carp lake in North America. And the spot I had picked in those days is known today as "The Rocks": A well-known swim that has accounted for some of the biggest fish from Town Lake to date.

The news about the discovery of Town Lake reached me while fishing in Southern France. On the surface, it was not much: Just some news about other people catching fish. Nothing was lost, and nobody was hurt. But to me this piece of news changed it all. These were news about what could have been. It seemed so ironic how close I had come, and almost tragic how now the opportunity was lost forever. This was the point when the unexpected had thrown me into the dirt - I was gutted and frustrated. I had come to within inches of making a once-in-a-lifetime discovery, but I had blown my chance.

But my lack of luck with Town Lake does not end here. The only way I felt that I could redeem myself, the only way to return to peace with myself and to restore my confidence, I thought, was to travel to Texas and catch one of the big Town Lake fish. So I went - and I failed! I returned to Town Lake three times, only to catch one mid-sized fish. I remember tedious airplane rides and lonely nights by a lake that seemed so vast and foreign. In retrospect, this is when the unexpected kicked me in the face. I had almost accepted my defeat and had come to realize that try as I might, some things are not meant to be.

On one occasion, however, I traveled to Texas to participate in the 2003 ATC tournament. If not for any fish I had caught during that event, it was a tremendous weekend for everything social. Any place can become more agreeable if you travel in good company. And it was for this precise reason that I decided to fish the 2004 ATC. This is how I returned once more to Austin.
To cut a long story short: About one week after the ATC, we finally moved in on big fish. Again it was a dark and unpleasant evening, but this time the lake looked just right. We knew that it was a big fish area and that the baits were in perfect position. Upon nightfall, carp were moving in from the right, crashing heavily on the calm surface. Then it all happened very quickly. I wish I could say that I felt relieved when I hoisted my heavy prize ashore. And I wish I could say that I felt ecstatic when the buzzer went off again to call for the capture of yet another leviathan. But tired and hungry and wet as I was, and being a kilograms-type of guy after all, it did not occur to me until hours later that what I had caught were actually two English forties. As I realized my achievement, the sweet sensation of victory flowed through my veins. It was a dream come true - at last.

While this brace of carp is to me the catch of a lifetime, it will never compare to discovering Town Lake, as I had once come so close to achieving. With some dedication and fortune or fate, I may catch a forty again, but a lake can only be discovered once. And this has been done, and it was not by me. At the end of it all, however, I am now convinced that my Town Lake story is too coincidental to be coincidental. Life has been out to teach me a lesson: You may stumble, and you may fall. You may be tried, and you may doubt. But always know what you want. Get back up, try hard, stay honest.

And most importantly: Never give up on a dream!