For those who are addicted to the rush of battling silver kings, even a short Southwest Florida winter is a long, dark time. When the mercury drops, most of our big tarpon disappear either up the rivers, where they’re all but impossible to target, or head to warmer climates. Sure, there are plenty of fish you can catch in the cooler months. Some of them bite even better.
But that doesn’t matter a hill of beans, because there’s nothing that can really take the place of a tarpon. No other inshore fish hurls itself skyward like that, and fishing for them is one of those things that can become addictive. I mean that in an almost literal sense. The feeling of waiting for those fish to get here and start chewing is such a wonderful and horrible anticipation — sort of like going back to sixth grade and knowing your first kiss is going to happen very soon.
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