Lulled into carelessness by the lack of action, I thoughtlessly tossed my worm right into the teeth of the wind. The bait flew out about 10 yards and was stopped abruptly by the breeze. Loose coils of line spilled out of my reel in a large, cascading backlash.
“Oh, man!” I said. “This is going to take awhile.”
I sat down and began picking and pulling. Fortunately, it was not as bad as I had feared. About two minutes later, I was spooling the once-tangled monofilament back onto my reel.
As I tightened the line, I felt weight on the end.
(Excerpt from the essay "Speed Trap . . . Slow Down" in my new book, Why We Fish.)