“What would you like with your eggs? Fruit, hash browns or grits?” “Grits please, Thanks Mam.” I ate me some grits down in the frozen marsh of New Orleans. I even ate them at the airport before departing back to Colorado. I believe they were smoked gouda grits. No big deal.
I truly think I have a curse on me. Which is kinda cool if you are into voodoo, ghoules and shit like that, but this will have been the 6th saltwater trip I have been on when the weather made me grab my ankles. The boys from The Flyfisher group toted me along to document a Redfish trip to NOLA. When the lobby of the hotel was colder then Denver I knew the curse had followed me to salt once again. The Polar Vortex had put the south in a deep freeze. Damn! The cold temps pushed the Big Reds off the oyster/mud flats into the deeper channels. The Curse. We still managed to smash the hell out of the mid sized ones and have a great time while doing it. The content that came out of the trip wasn’t half bad so I threw together this little vid.
Regardless of the freak weather, which I am sure was caused by the curse, Fly Fishing for Redfish in NOLA is rad. I will surely go back and try it again. Good guides, eager fish and all the grits you can eat.