• warning: Parameter 2 to ed_classified_link_alter() expected to be a reference, value given in /home/soloneconomist/www/www/includes/common.inc on line 2968.
  • warning: Parameter 2 to ed_classified_link_alter() expected to be a reference, value given in /home/soloneconomist/www/www/includes/common.inc on line 2968.

Benders fishing camp day 4

To mix things up a little, I asked to go out with Chuck instead of Bob for the morning, 5-7 a.m., fishing session.
In his mid-50s, Chuck designs and builds flow meters for a company in Chicago. He’s an all-around nice guy, someone who is very comfortable in his own skin. His spouse, Rosemary, comes to camp but she mostly stays shoreside reading or doing puzzles while her hubby fishes. You might say she’s a good-hearted woman in love with a good fishing man, who loves him despite of ways she doesn’t understand.
Like DNA, every fishing party has its own unique signature on the lake. The Tres Amigos, for example, can be spotted because they’re the only crew with three in a boat. The Professor and Maryanne like to troll on quiet spots away from the crowd. If you see two people, one man and one woman, slowly putt-putting over a lonely spot on the water, it’s probably them. Each day they set sail for some charted but deserted idyl. Chuck’s signature, on the other hand, is that when he moves, he moves full throttle. Baby, he was born to run.
This has been the best trip ever for weather. Nighttime lows are in the 40s and daytime highs in the 70s. This means that the Minnesota state bird, the mosquito, has not migrated to this area yet.
We’ve had a couple of sprinkles but nothing to keep us off the lake, at least until this morning.
While Chuck and I were casting on the far side of the water a storm cloud suddenly rolled over, the wind picked up and it starting raining to beat the band. Chuck fired up the Mercury and we headed home full throttle, skipping over the lake like a stone going where the sun might be shining thru the pouring rain.
Back at camp, Patty had pancakes on the griddle and rashers of thick, crispy bacon ready to be served. Life ain’t nothing but a funny, funny riddle, thank God I’m a fishing boy.
After breakfast I rejoined Bob in his boat, Skeeter’s Dream. Skeeter is the nickname Bob gave Dad years back. It’s a good one as Dad is as persistent and pesky at catching fish as any flying pest.
Before going any further I should say how much I love and appreciate fishing with my brother. He’s so enthusiastic and energetic; it’s hard not to have a good time. When we’re together I always have a ton of fun and catch lots of fish.
He can also be fairly dense between the ears, however. Every morning, for example, he goes to great lengths to find out who is catching fish, where and how. Then we do the opposite. He ain’t heavy (in the mind), he’s my brother.
Until now, we’ve been spending most of our time on the lake looking for the elusive pike.
“On today’s episode of the deadliest catch,” little brother likes to intone with an Australian accent “we are after the fearsome Northern Pike.” Bob keeps saying we have to catch a northern for Mom. This is partly true; Mom loves the bony/oily fish that many others eschew. But the real reason, I suspect, is because it gives him the chance of catching the biggest fish and the bragging rights that go along with it. Whatever. While the rest of the fish are biting on the lake, the pike strikes have been few and far between.
Yet Bob persists, somewhat to my dismay. While he’s been casting I’ve taken to bottom fishing with a worm and have had some luck. If only he’d stopped pushing about, I know we might get into some fish. Meanwhile, I’ve been sitting at the side of the boat watching time roll away.
And then it happened, it took me by surprise: we set anchor in some weeds and started pulling up bluegill after bluegill. They were good-sized ones, too, some as big as a dinner plate and weighing a full pound. In no time we had our limit of 20 each. It was so awesome it bordered on spiritual, my sweet Lord, Hare fishna.
Oh, I’m almost out of space and haven’t had a chance to tell about the one thing that really drives me crazy about my brother. It’s the way he sings songs and changes the words all around. I wonder where he gets that from?