There were a few lakes within biking distance but this one was the biggest and had the reputation for large mouth bass, possible a big one. My brother and would get up early and ride to the the first of the lakes fishable spots. By this time I actually had a inexpensive spinning reel loaded with 4lb test monofilament. I remember we would cast those jitterbugs what seemed like a country mile and my line would seem to float and finally settle on the lake. A slow and stead retrieve was the ticket. If you were lucky you would see something like a Mini version Captain Nemo’s Nautilus on a surface ramming run screaming at your bug. What joy for a 14 year old guy. Each spot was only good for a few cast then the Bass became wary.
This memorable day I had just gotten to the spot that required you walk out on to a log. This log wasn’t particularly wide and you needed you wits about you. Fortunately the water only appeared about a foot deep. Well I slipped, I quickly learned that yes the water was only about a foot deep but beneath it was several feet of a quick sand like substance. Try as I might It had me and I couldn’t get out and it was pulling me down. My brother was laughing hysterically until finally he realized my situation was getting worse and with much effort he yanked out. The quicksand gave me up with a mighty slurping sound. I understandably respect oh alright in truth fear the mud ever since. I slept well that night I can tell you having a near death experience will do that too you.
A few weeks ago cool hand (DS) wanted to go fishing well although the nearest stream is complete with a covered bridge and pretty as a picture, I find it too crowded. Locals are either canoeing, Kayaking or swimming. Anyway it is close so I gave in. Oddly the stream doesn’t have too many ‘fishable spots’. The river is old, full of snags and the MUD lined banks are a few feet above the water. Cool hand got a little too close and with much, less than graceful’ flailing of his arms he slipped into the mudbank. He was able to climb out but was a muddy mess. I made him take everything off and put it into a plastic bad I had in my car and drove home. My ‘ribbing’ of him was merciless I made sure and tell the wife of his exploits.
Yesterday was a repeat visit except we arrived at 7:30 PM. Yes there were still a few people around, some actually swimming. So we gave them a wide berth we arrived at an opening to see a footprint in the mud but this foot print was a good 6 inches deep. I stared at that foot print thought “death trap” and told Cool Hand don’t go near there. “It looks old” and he didn’t listen.I think the victims arm flailing really adds to the effect. At least this time he didn’t have a pair good sneakers on. I
Brother you are gone for some time - I hope you shared the good belly laugh I had on the way home.
Are you also determined to learn the hard way?
This memorable day I had just gotten to the spot that required you walk out on to a log. This log wasn’t particularly wide and you needed you wits about you. Fortunately the water only appeared about a foot deep. Well I slipped, I quickly learned that yes the water was only about a foot deep but beneath it was several feet of a quick sand like substance. Try as I might It had me and I couldn’t get out and it was pulling me down. My brother was laughing hysterically until finally he realized my situation was getting worse and with much effort he yanked out. The quicksand gave me up with a mighty slurping sound. I understandably respect oh alright in truth fear the mud ever since. I slept well that night I can tell you having a near death experience will do that too you.
A few weeks ago cool hand (DS) wanted to go fishing well although the nearest stream is complete with a covered bridge and pretty as a picture, I find it too crowded. Locals are either canoeing, Kayaking or swimming. Anyway it is close so I gave in. Oddly the stream doesn’t have too many ‘fishable spots’. The river is old, full of snags and the MUD lined banks are a few feet above the water. Cool hand got a little too close and with much, less than graceful’ flailing of his arms he slipped into the mudbank. He was able to climb out but was a muddy mess. I made him take everything off and put it into a plastic bad I had in my car and drove home. My ‘ribbing’ of him was merciless I made sure and tell the wife of his exploits.
Yesterday was a repeat visit except we arrived at 7:30 PM. Yes there were still a few people around, some actually swimming. So we gave them a wide berth we arrived at an opening to see a footprint in the mud but this foot print was a good 6 inches deep. I stared at that foot print thought “death trap” and told Cool Hand don’t go near there. “It looks old” and he didn’t listen.I think the victims arm flailing really adds to the effect. At least this time he didn’t have a pair good sneakers on. I
Brother you are gone for some time - I hope you shared the good belly laugh I had on the way home.
Are you also determined to learn the hard way?
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