in the beginning there was simple chaos and it's still here. what's this for? well, primarily to figure out a new toy while the old crusty scabby still has a few active cells left... then, eventually to create a website because i like making pictures...(but not necessarily being in them...that one above would be my sister-in-crime, fellow morning-coffee-lover, all around outdoors gal and genuinly priceless pal ....)
in the spring, rain rules...and rain and rain and rain it does
...am convinced when it finally does stop and the sun decides to stick around for a minute, the fish will have grown as large as elephants , if they could be judged by the growth rate of dandiloins and crabgrass in the garden...
.. fishing opener past...and my film of the new season hasn't made it in to the developer..... patience and i will switch the pics out at some stage...promise..
until then there's just the old stuff....
it's finally happened.... caught my very own first two rainbow trout i've ever caught here...11" and a12"...(and a few nice blugils, too..)....they didn't taste quite as fine as those little wild creek-bred brookies out of wisconsin but plenty good enough stuffed w/ red onion, garlic, butter, black pepper and lemon and that i found out what to use to get them, made me Very happy...was at the tackle shop (bad gal, but if they sell gear, no matter how humble, there i must stop...) nosing around and that row of glitter sparkling lemon-lime colored troutbait chunks in jars was there..... joking w/ the nice fellow behind the counter, i said, now i don't know if that's ment to twinkle a trout's eye, but sure it does twinkle mine... he chuckled, too and noted that i was right about that, the only thing they'd eat around here were plain...
i've been there enough that he knows who i am, by inclination if not name,and i've asked for recommendations to which he has been mildly helpful and rather vague, but this clue was Very good...sure enough on the plain trout bait he stocked, it said..."hatchery formula" , instead of " nymph" or "earthworm" flavored..
...98.979797 % of the trout here are from hatcheries- there are very few wild ones- ... as far as i can tell, they don't know what a worm is 'cause they've never even sniffed at any red wiggler -storebought or dug from the wood- that's ever hung on my hook....plain bait, not pink or orange or metalic yellow sparkle...plain.....dnr doesn't spend money coloring their trout food apparently..when in rome....
really must give credit to a sweet little tiny 4'6" rod - purchased and given to me to me by my generous sister-in-kind. ... digging around in the k-smart discount bins together, i was too poor to get it for myself and she took care of me...never since have seen another of that ilk in the bins or anyplace ele...put my little spinning ice fishing reel on it; a great combo- casts nice, controls nice. strung it up with monsterous heavy 6# test, 18" of 4# leader , 3/4 oz sinker, size 10 gamakatsu brand octopus hook....and ugly hunk o' schiet
spring's here w/ big bouquets of flowers shad's done running...found a hat the other day, says, "my rod and my reel doth comefort me". ..it's the truth.
by-the-by; the worm rule does not hold true for bluegills and sunnies..nor the chain pickeral who really aren't supposed to be in that particular pond.....
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...it's taken a couple years to find the real bait shop here....as we all know, not everything is on the internet.....paid a visit to the place on a tip from a fellow met on the ice one afternoon.
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fly fishing is almost a metaphor for solitary sport and of a particular class of occupation. bait and lure fishing isn't protected by the same handy, if presumptuous assumptions. it's often a social event. on occasion, one might even encounter the oddball who thinks a woman with a pole is in fact angling for sex, drugs and babysitting duties...i really ought to take up that former kind of fishing; in the meanwhile, best be reserved.
... that day, however, i experienced something akin to an angelic encounter. he was kindly, in charge and not quite retired; had noted my loyal battle w/ the Auger and made suggestions both gentle and intelligent. i was of course, prompted to try his, which sliced through 18' of ice like the proverbial hot knife through butter ( pride shouldn't get in the way of pleasure, i ooo-oo-o-ed happily at the chance to experience such a fine little cutter...). then came stories of fish and days and living and bait and tackle and where he found this hot little jig that was killing perch last week. nichol's sporting goods on the old highway outside winsted just past the dmv on the left. had i heard of it? only just this minute.
it took a week or two before the excuse and extra cash to check out his tip presented themselves. thought, sure he had to be an angel; he'd just guided me to a gimmer of heaven on earth. they had about everything important to a happy life. tackle, livebait, wool, gear, shorelunch, jerky, overshoes, hunting stuff, chainsaws, outboards, hatpins. they stock the variety of very-ugly-canoe which a couple years ago i'd driven an hour and a half to boonfeck suburbia to purchase. they even knew which box on the counter contained more of the lure i was ostensibly seeking that day. (..now if i can get them hitched up with a certain little company out of dodge center mn, so i don't have to send my buddies in the midwest trotting off to the hardware store everytime i lose a damn jig ...)
after conversation had thinned out, he packed up his gear, gaviving me the only fish he'd caught, a silvery pink rainbow trout, and went home.
i've introduced my buddies to the fancy sporting goods shop...
a shop which might need a piece of artwork to stick in among the trophies and stuffed varmints as a gesture of thanks to the cosmos,since it's hard to say whether two paths will cross again. and then again, who knows?
...he might have been the fellow i saw on the same pond one evening last spring.
it was lovely to be watching a bobber disappear with the spring light, bucket of bluegill supper at my feet. a fellow came down to the shore. he carried a pole and a used plastic grocerybag. we didn't speak. civility was properly addressed with the brief nod. i watched him indirectly. after baiting up a small hook using something nondescript brown not a worm nor crawler, pulled from a bag in the bag, he cast out far with a fair weight set a generous foot up from the end. the lump at the end of his line wasn't red nor magenta nor orange, like most of the troutbait i see out being used in the neighborhood.
within ten minutes, he'd pulled in his first foot-long trout.he cast again. i don't recall if he was enjoying a bottle of beer as he fished, could have as easily been water or soda pop. within another fifteen, he'd pulled in a second fish slightly larger than the first. apparently that was enough. he packed up his gear and drove off. i recall thinking; that was a fisher worth emulating. no waste, no noise; that certain elegance which marks all masters of their trades. have long puzzled what bait he was using.... think i've now found out.
good stuff..(links)..
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