Another fishing weekend on the books.
Sixth one, I believe.
And why haven't you come along?
Lots of laughs, as always, and I'm really glad I have the opportunity every year to set up the trip.
No bitter cold rainy days this year.
Nah, we thought we'd try something new this year, and had three days of 90 degrees and relentless sunshine.
And wind from the south, which apparently makes the fish decide they don't need food.
Yeah, it effects me the same way. Wind from the north, I'm all "Feed me, Seymour".
Wind from the west, and I'm all "of course I want some cheesy poofs!"
Wind from the south, however....
So, we fished. And tried not to overheat. And fishing started off great, and went progressively downhill over the course of the weekend.
Because of sunshine, and south winds, apparently.
Current goes from north to south, but the wind blew south to north, so we spent the entire day saturday drifting upwind in our rented boat.
And in case you don't get the issue here.... WE WERE DRIFTING UPSTREAM.
UPSTREAM!!
AGAINST the current.
That's not supposed to happen.
So, a dozen or so fish on friday begat 8 fish saturday morning first thing, and a grand total of... 2 more the entire rest of the day. Which begat... 4 fish this morning.
*&^*^%$ south wind.
My theory? one of my companions snagged something odd out of the river friday night. A very old baby doll, complete except for a missing head. It had obviously been in the river a long time.
He brought it out of the water and onto the bank, and we all just stared at it. Guys further down the river bank came to see what he had brought in, and they just stared at it, too.
So there we all were, about six of us, standing in a semi-circle, staring at this old, dirt covered, headless doll.
"That's f*cked up." one of the guys from up the bank said, breaking the silence.
"Yep."
"Not Stephen King-y and creepy at all, Eddie." I reassured my friend.
"Let's take it back to the cabin with us. You can cuddle it tonite."
"No, dude. I'm good."
Fishing went down hill after he brought that cursed headless doll to shore....
We fish in a small town that does not hold ones' attention for any length of time.
The 170 lb sturgeon that was caught, and stuffed and mounted on the wall of Woodeye's bar and grill, got us in the door.
And yeah, we were THAT lazy, after day two of 12 hours of sun and heat that we had pizza delivered, from the place two blocks away.
We were on the young end of the age spectrum crowding the fishing docs, the river bank, and the boat rentals. We talked to a number of guys who've been renting the same cabins, on the same weekend, every year for the last 20+.
Some of them have actually shown up, and gotten the weather and the fishing that they were expecting to have. At least one time in the 20 + years they've been making the drive. So perhaps one year in the near future, it might even happen for me....
Apparently, when you've been coming there long enough, and you reach a certain age, you decide that courtesy is no longer something you need worry about.
Mind if I slide in next to you here on the river bank?
Well, it IS getting pretty crowded.
Thanks, I appreciate it. Oh, did I cast over your line?
Oh, did I do it again?
Guess you should get out my advanced-aged way then, sparky, cuz I'm not moving.
We marveled at how many guys were fishing on top of each other on the fishing dock, as we drifted, unanchored, upstream past the marina OVER AND OVER on saturday.
Wow, check out those f*ckin' guys. there must be 10 of 'em....
So, we were up at the ass-crack of dawn this morning, and looked out the front window, and there was a perfectly empty fishing dock.
"Fish on me!" I heard it whisper.
"Fish on me..."
So I took pole, and bait, and landing net and coffee and trotted across the narrow street, past the rental boats, and onto the dock.
And I immediately caught a small walleye. And my two fishing partners joined me. And it was good.
And then an older guy in a wife beater and a doo rag walked down, plopped down on the bench next to me, and immediately started casting.
Oh, where are you at? Did I cross your line?
And a few minutes later, two of his friends joined him. Errr... Us.
One of them immediately mis-cast, and began dropping F bombs....
And two more guys from their group came. and another....
And... geezus.
When a younger guy lead a blind man down onto the dock, who in turn tapped my leg with his cane, and asked "Room for more?" I realized it was time to move along.
So we moved to the river bank, and awaited the inundation of the the guys we had come to refer to as "Those guys from the Cocoon movie...". But it didn't happen this morning, a couple more fish were caught, and we packed it up early and went to check out.
Hey, Marlis. Might as well book a couple of cabins for this weekend next year. I know you fill up.
Turns out, they already were filled up.
"All of them have been reserved for next year already?" I ask, surprised.
"No, but a lot of these guys will be checking out later this morning, and always reserve, so..."
"So you can't let me have one, though I'm here before them? "
"Well, they do come every year..."
"I've been coming every year, too. I even came 2x last year...."
She checked her appointment book, looked around the bait shop, and in hushed tones, said she could pencil me in on cabin 11.
She emphasized the use of pencil.
"See, because the gentleman who's been renting IT for the last 25 years.... They don't expect he'll be back again."
Oh.
"Yeah, everyone was kinda surprised that he made it this year. He's been renting it for two weeks, every year. It was he and his wife, they started coming up after they retired.
Then it was just him.
He has grandkids, nephews and such, they all come up for a couple days here and there, but don't plan to continue, if he's not here. "
Oh.
So, if the guy from Cocoon, who was nice enough to chat with friday night, until he basically ran us off the riverbank by casting over us, doesn't survive 'til next may, I can have his cabin. My name's in the book, in pencil. Just in case the worst case ends up... being the case.
I'll have a seat at the table, so to speak. I'll get a cabin, and can have it year after year after year if I want it. I'll have dibs! I'll have arrived!
YES!!!!!
And, so I get choked up, writing about it.
And maybe, one year, the weather will be what it's supposed to be, the fish will run like they're supposed to, and it'll be exactly like it's supposed to be.
Only for me to realize that "exactly like it's supposed to be" is whatever it happens TO be, on any given year.
And maybe it's not REALLY about the #$%&&&#$ south wind; the white bass run, or how many guys are on the goddamn fishing dock.
But the headless baby doll WAS really creepy...
