Saturday, July 20, 2013

Bluegill days

Fresh off a week at a cabin that was smack dab in the middle of several great trout streams, I am sorry to tell you that mother nature played kind of a rotten trick on me.  The heat, humidity, mosquitoes, and plain old lack of any bites caused me to abandon trout fishing all together for the week.

Uncharacteristic of me, I know; I am usually not smart enough to figure such things out until looking at them through hindsight.

The cabin was on a gorgeous little lake.  Clear water, temps in the mid 90's and no air conditioner in the cabin meant that I spent a LOT of time in the water.  When not actually in the water cooling off, my other favorite activity was lounging on a lawn chair at water's edge and drinking myself silly.  Of course, one can only do this for soooo long before the need to do something else hits.

Usually the call to action was wandering up to the house for a fresh cocktail or change of flavor(s), but also occasionally meant swinging a fly-rod for bluegill.  Fun stuff, but they have a habit of swallowing everything they take. After a while of performing surgery on every fish I caught, I turned to something less...invasive.

Here is a look at a few of the that were hanging out off the dock.

Til later,


Wednesday, July 10, 2013


It's been a bumpy week so far.  I can't lie.

Everything started out great last week.  Long holiday weekend, good food, good drink, good fireworks and good friends.  The holiday was so good in fact, that the MacLoosh clan ended up at their cabin with them to finish out the weekend.

Unbeknownst to me, on Sunday morning things had started to quietly unravel.

First, there was this small issue of not having slept much.  After an excellent evening around a campfire, and more than my fair share of Potosi Cave Ales (good stuff...but my gawd does it pack a punch...) I managed to find the bed around 3:30a.  I think.  Things were a little fuzzy to be honest, and marking the correct time wasn't on my list of things to be concerned about.

Then somewhere around 5:15a or so, I woke up.

The cabin was quiet, even the dogs looked at me like I was an idiot for being awake, but I couldn't fall back asleep.  So...I did what I assume most would do in the same situation: I found my shorts, flip flops and car keys and hit the road.  If you can't sleep, then you may as well go fishing.  Right?

Luckily we weren't far from the Mecan River--One of my all time favorite trout streams.  A stop at the local Kwik Trip for coffee and a breakfast sandwich and I was headed north to the river.

Once I got to the Mecan, I sucked down a few more gulps of coffee and took a look at the water.  Perfect.  A nice seam with fish rising happily and what should have been an easy upstream cast.  I strung up my rod, tied on a caddis and managed to flub every cast I tried to make.  I mean to tell you that I am certain that I fouled that water so completely, that it probably hasn't settled down yet.

It was not lost on me that the drinks the night befo...well...couple of hours earlier may have had something to do with my clumsiness.

So as I wallowed from flubbing casts to catching every tree and blade of grass that was nearby, I decided that I never liked trout fishing or the Mecan anyway.  Fuck that. I headed back to the cabin where I knew my boy and his buddy would be up and already fishing for panfish at the lake.

True to form the boys were set up on a dock and were killing the panfish with flyrods.  I wandered over and joined the fun.  Well, in my (continued) clumsy state, I manged to drop my old faithful digital camera into the drink.  My son froze as we both watched it fall from my fishing pack into the crystal clear water (in slow motion)...only to be investigated by a bluegill once it settled on the bottom.  I think my boy expected a full fledged temper tantrum from me and slowly, carefully backed up.

I wasn't surprised.  In fact...I was mildly amused.  Amused in that crazed, half drunk state that can only be fully appreciated after less than 2 hours of sleep.

My son backed up further...but never took his eyes off of me as I calmly fished the camera out of the water--while also trying to skewer the asshole bluegill who was hanging around.  I decided it might be best if I head back to the cabin.  My son came with to grab some breakfast.  I think he was a little worried about me.

While there, and after it was obvious that I wasn't going to blow a nut, he admitted to me that he had gotten his cell phone wet the night before, while fishing. It seems they were getting pounded by mosquitoes and the only way to escape them was to go into the water.  He had forgotten his phone in his pocket.  An honest mistake.

My son is savvy.  He had carefully chosen this moment to tell me.  I was clearly not in my "normal" state of mind, and I had just dropped my own camera into the water while he was watching.  So forgiveness was given, and after a run back to town for bags of rice...both devices were hopefully drying out.  After almost 3 full days in rice, and a trip to Verizon to get a phone that was generously donated by a friend activated...neither his old phone or my camera worked.

Add to all of this a dose of workplace stress that is beyond the scope of anything I could have dreamed up...and I am good and god damned ready for a vacation.

So tonight, using the one camera that DOES still work, I made a cathartic video.  All I gotta say is "Damn.  That felt good".


Til later,