Welcome back to the diaries. Spring has quickly turned into summer, wet soggy summer around Nimrod's land. But ya know... some guy wrote a song about rain.. its a good thing.
Since the last adventure into the jungle I have shied away from the creek. Things at work and in life have been keeping the Nimrod clan busy as a one legged mule at a man kicking contest. We have managed a few wild excursions but time and laziness, mainly the later, have prevented me from updating the diaries. Feel free to play mule at the man kicking contest the next time you see me.
First we will discuss the Fathers Day fishing expedition we had. Mud and I conjured up a brilliant idea to take Red and Monkey out for a special trip. There wasn't anything exceptionally special about the trip it just coincided with Fathers Day.
Mud and crew loaded up the Mud machine, SS Mud and all, and headed to baseops. I was stuck working the night before. I had planned to squeeze in as much beauty sleep as I could. Yoop quickly pointed out that no matter how much I got it wouldn't help. With the limitation of having to be at a Cub Scout leader party early evening, I decided to forgo most my beauty sleep. When I got up, I can say with certainty, the lack of beauty sleep didn't hurt. Didn't help either but we won't go there.
We loaded up the Shaggin Wagon and made our way to baseops. Mud and Red were ready when we arrived. Monkey and I weren't. After a pit stop and some sun block for Monkey, we all loaded up in the Mud Machine and set off for the lake.
The SS Mud was following us nicely on the trailer. We got to the lake where the SS Mud made her maiden voyage for us. Mud back her into the channel. He kept going back and back. Soon I feared the Mud Machine would get stuck. I signaled him to stop and man handled her off the trailer into the water, wondering where the 10+ inches of rain we had gotten in the last few weeks had gone.
The SS Mud is a fine vessel. Four bench style seats. Well, three Bench style seats and miniature seat at the bow. Mud was on the bench in the stern. Moving forward Red had the next bench and then Monkey. As you've prolly figured out, I was left crunched on to the miniature seat at the bow.
Mud used the electric motor to get us out of the channel and the gas motor fired right up, this time. We move to a sunken island to the north end of the lake. I helped Monkey ready his pole. While I retired his hook on, I told him to dig into the bucket for a worm.
Since I had worked evenings leading up to this adventures, Monkey and Yoop had collected worms out of the back yard at the Nimrod Ranch. Over a few days they had captured about half of an one gallon ice cream bucket. The worms were housed in thea gallon ice cream bucket, in the Nimrod family fridge until we took them along for the adventure of (to end) their life.
Mud and I found a spot we thought would be good and went to anchor. While the SS Mud is a fine vessel, I blame any accessories on Mud. Anyway we each took our anchor and plopped it in the water. As I was feed the rope down, I heard Mud say “the rope is too short.” Rather I thought I heard him say it. As I got the end of my anchor rope, I turned to him and said “its too deep for your rope.”
“Yea, mine too,” he replied.
“Think your gonna need more rope next time,” I proffered.
He replied with a look fit for a wife mad at her husband.
Just then Monkey squealed that he caught a fish. I coached him to reel it in and a short time later he landed the first fish of the day. A nice perch. A bit on the short side, say three inches long at most, but the boy was as proud as a hen who just laid an egg.
We toured the lake, moving from point to point in search of fish. We kept moving, not cause we wanted to; it was because we couldn't stay in one spot cause of the short anchor ropes. I didn't mind, I only reminded Mud once or ten times.
We approached an area where on the maiden voyage yielded us a nice catch of specs. Red caught nice nice 12 inch bass. That was her first bass ever. She had caught one before but insisted this was the first one ever. We messed back and forth, but the discussion ended with it being her first, but not her first all at the same time.
It was a good day on the lake. Which as always beat a good day at work, or at the mall or doing yard work, or one of many on a long list of things that are less enjoyable than fishing on Fathers day with the kiddos.
Stay tuned for more entries. Yoop played the mule and I really need to finish the summer entries before the fall hunting season kick off.. soon enough Nimrod will be back in the woods, Kabekona (or Kodiak Mag) in hand. Chasing the wily whitetail.