Gar hold a special place in my angler’s heart. The connection stretches back to humid summer nights of catfishing with my dad on Arkansas River sandbars.
Cats were our target, but gar were frequent nibblers of our hooks stacked with minnows or slices of shad. Dad could always tell if it was a cat or a gar that had come-a-calling by watching the rod tip. Cats often stuck with ferocity—sharp bows in the rod that sometimes dislodged it from a forked driftwood prop and even sometimes drug the whole outfit into the churning river.