So it began. As the boat slid away from the bank into black, unfamiliar water, thoughts of the previous full day of travel trickled from my mind. After months of planning, a plane ride loaded down with rod tubes and gear, and a long drive south, here we stood above the famed waters of the Trinity river system in south Texas. Dinosaur country.

We arrived at the ramp well before dawn to meet Cody Cryer with Garzilla Alligator Gar Guide Service, our guide for the next two days of fishing. He assured us that we could get a good jump on the day by leaving right away, as long as we weren’t afraid of the dark. We laughed and loaded gear, half wondering how serious he was. After navigating through a labyrinth of standing and submerged timber, Cody pushed the big boat out toward the main lake basin. It’s a weird enough sensation for either Zach or myself to be riding in a boat driven by someone else, let alone on totally foreign water in a new state. But it served as a nice break from the duties and preparation of peak flathead season, and I found myself soaking in the ease of being taken fishing for a change.

It was still completely dark when we motored into our first fishing spot of the day. Cody slid the Power Poles down to lock the boat in place, and began to explain the theory behind the spot he’d chosen. I could hear some distant surface disturbance in different areas around the boat, and Cody nodded as if to answer my unspoken question. They were here.

We started tying up the prototype rods Zach had brought down to test as Cody went over rigging, bait, and hook-set procedure. We spoke in hushed tones in our best attempt to stay undetected in the remaining half hour of darkness. When the rods were ready to go, I leaned back and sat on the gunwale of the boat, my back toward the massive expanse of the lake. As if on cue, the black water erupted below me as a crushing thud pounded the side of the boat right below where I sat. Like a grenade went off, water splashed all three of us as an 8 foot wide swirl rocked the boat then dissipated back into nothing. Cody laughed out loud and just said “that was a good one.” We laughed out loud too, while I wondered if I remembered a clean change of shorts.  “This place is no joke” was the only thought on my mind.

We casted baits out in an even spread all around the boat, setting clickers and baitrunners into free-spool. Before we could even get all of the rods out, one of Cody’s bait-runners sounded the alarm of a steady run. Zach jumped up to grab the rod, and Cody reminded him of the wait time before setting the hook. Gar will run quite a ways before attempting to inhale a bait they’ve grabbed, so it’s crucial to wait for a pause in their first run before setting the hook. While we waited excitedly, another clicker buzzed loudly in the dark. I picked up this rod and slid the clicker off, waiting for the pause. Both fish seemed to stop at the same time, and when they started moving again we let them have it. Doubled up to start the trip! As the morning light grew we could see our fish thrashing the surface violently trying to shake the big treble hooks. Neither were giants, but a new species for both Zach and myself. Cody grabbed both fish and showed us how to best avoid getting slashed by their wicked mouth full of teeth. We posed for a quick picture, then sent the gar on their way. Success.

It wasn’t long before another set of runs shook us from our celebrating. We hadn’t even re-casted the first two rods when the second two took off. Zach and I followed procedure and soon another two angry gar made it to the boat. We released the fish and worked to get all four rods back out when a fifth rod buzzed violently. This was as wide open as it gets in apex predator fishing, and we couldn’t be happier. Cody mentioned that his boat record was 18 gar landed in a full day. The way things were going we all wondered how long that would last.

Rain started pelting the boat, and Cody slid the bimini top into place while Zach and I jumped into our rain gear. Fishing in the pouring rain was nothing new, and the fishing was so good we hardly noticed. There were occasional lulls in the action, but when a bait was taken it usually wasn’t the only one. On more than one occasion we had four rods clicking at a time. Most of these fish were around the same size, about 45 inches long. Big fish by many standards, but young for an alligator gar. We discussed the options available to give us our best shot at a true giant and decided that staying in actively feeding fish for the first day of the trip was a wise move. The rain finally slowed, but the bites kept coming.

At about 2:30 PM I picked up a steadily clicking reel and slid the clicker off as we’d done all day. This fish seemed to cruise a bit faster than the others, and it grew hard to wait for the telltale pause of a gar finally enjoying its meal. Then it came. When the fish began to move off again, I engaged the light saltwater Penn and hammered the rod back. Drag slipped hard on the hook set, and the heavy blank bent deep toward the handle. We all just looked at each other as water erupted about 70 yards from the boat. This was a good one. The fish bolted left and jumped again, peeling drag in the air. These fish are incredibly fast, and suddenly I found myself struggling to gain line fast enough to stay tight on it. The fish jumped a third time closer to the boat, and Cody grabbed a lasso from a storage box in the bow. The silver missile made a run at the boat, causing me to drop a knee on the gunwale to support the rod as the top half bent into the water and line peeled from the spool. When we got him turned around, the fish made several violent, thrashing jumps against the side of the boat before we were able to get the rope around it. Cody yanked the tail end of the lasso and cinched the fish tight behind the pec fins. We had him.

It took both Zach and I to drag this one into the boat, a thick brute of a gar pushing close to 6 feet long. Cody took a few quick measurements and estimated the fish close 80 pounds, making it easily my biggest freshwater fish to date. These fish are intimidating in close proximity, and can even cut you with their scales when thrashing around. Their skin is prehistoric armor, so well woven together that even bow fishermen have a hard time penetrating it with arrows. We managed to get the fish into my lap for a few quick pictures, then slid him back into the muddy water he came from. It was only the first day of the trip and we’d already gotten a taste of what big gator gar are all about. High fives all around, and bait back into the water.

The rest of the day flew past, and we ended up going on to break the boat record with 21 total gar landed. A lot of fish are missed on the hook-set in this game, simply because of the way gar hold and eat their prey. All said and done we had close to 50 runs before 3:00 PM, and everyone was thoroughly exhausted. We left Cody at the ramp, and headed back to town to find some Texas barbecue and Gatorade. Excited with our early success, we hit the sheets to get some rest before day two. We had our numbers in, so the plan for the second day was to locate a true giant. The thought alone made it hard to sleep.