*I’m heading out the door to go fishing… alone. With copious amounts of coffee and sock knitting. Even if the trout aren’t biting it promises to be a wonderful morning.*
* back again… 6:30 am this morning I arrived at Battleground Lake. It is quite small as far as lakes go and it sits down in a valley surrounded by old growth forest… just natural tranquility with no nearby houses, commercial enterprises and no gas powered motors allowed. An early morning mist still hung in wisps across the lake. Fish jumped while waterbugs skimmed across the glassy surface. One other soul inhabited the dock and a few early morning anglers were beginning to arrive with a variety of small watercraft.
By 7:15 the peaceful solitude was but a memory. Trucks lined the road down to the boat launch complete with honking horns, screeching tires and ridiculously incompetent drivers. Backing a boat trailer down a narrow strip of road doesn’t look easy, and apparently it isn’t. The once spacious dock soon became small and crowded as more and more people arrived. Fishing lines crossed and tangled while children (not mine) ran about unchecked. At one point the far end of the dock (where I was fishing) became submerged due to too much weight from way too many people.
I came home with one lonely little trout. Strangely enough, it didn’t appear on my line until I’d left another kind soul in charge of my pole while I
relieved myself of large quantities of coffee powdered my nose. What’s even more suspicious is that when I got home and proudly pulled out the fish for admiration it had a worm in its throat… I fished with Powerbait. My conclusion is that the other dock dwellers took pity on me and stuck him on my hook while I was “indisposed”.
My husband’s comment was, “At least they could have given you a big one.” (This is a salad plate, not a dinner plate) Not that it should matter to him, he hates eating fish even more than fishing itself.
Only one round was added to the sock of the day. Fear of losing an eyeball or having my knitting yanked out my hands by a wayward cast forced me to stash it away.
Now off to clean the
pity guppy fish and take a shower.