Camera hunting with Red

Welcome to the madhouse. Since the last entry, Yoop, Murph and Doc have been in cahoots and succeeding in putting Ole Nimrods bow season on hiatus. Seems they think some minor hand pain that gets progressively worse is a good reason not to shoot a bow. They also don't believe the old adage “If pain is good, extreme pain is extremely good.” Makes me wonder what kind of wimps Americans are turning into.

I was doing my best to not go to see Doc, cause I knew what Doc would say. Yoop made an appointment with Doc and made specific threats to me. I pondered the threat versus going to see Doc. In the end, I felt it was best to give into Yoops demands. I went and surprise, surprise no shooting the bow for a few weeks. Wonderful way to start the bow season.

The following weekend, the Mud crew came out for some early bow season hunt. With Ole Nimrod gimped up... forced on the injured list... taking a hiatus from hunting, however you want to put it I am not able to enjoy fall fully. Since Mud had specifically taken time off to correspond to my weekend off, I felt obligated to participate some how. More on that shortly.

Prior to me being broke, Mud and I had discussed moving our stands to correspond to our current miscalculation of the deer movement for this season. Since Mud is much more of a monkey than I am, he is usually the one to do climbing work. I used my good hand and Mud used his monkey skills.

My stand is in a new bad spot and Muds stand is in a new nearly good spot not far from where I bladed one a few years back. After playing stand switcharoo the ol' wrist was feeling just dandy.

I showed Red how to use the old fashion, non motorized weed whacker and set her off to clear a path to my new bad stand. Checking periodically she was doing great. Winging the cutter back and forth. From a distance she seemed to be enjoying the work.

I did what I could to help Mud finish securing my new bad stand. Once done, we went and checked on Red. I asked her how she was doing. She stopped, leaned on the cutter and stated “this is pretty hard work.” I agreed with her and explained to her I didn't want to bring a power whacker cause of the noise and smell . I left out the part about me forgetting the gas power whacker at the Nimrod Ranch.

Once we were finished we returned to baseops and hung out... me bored out of my mind. Something was on TV, I peeked at my email on the computer.

Finally the clock got close enough that we started to get ready. The game plan for the evening was Mud perching in my new bad stand and Red and I taking Muds pop-in-up blind near Muds nearly good spot stand with my camera with no zoom lens. Great plan.

I loaded everything on my back, I think Red tossed in a garden tub somewhere. Still trying to figure out why when I add one kid to my hunt I quadruple the amount of stuff I bring. Anyone mathemagicians out there please let me know how that works.

We walked with Mud to the corner of the field, we waited a little bit so he could get in the new bad stand. Our thought was if we bumped any deer on our way in they may go to him. Either we didn't or they didn't. Not sure which is the correct answer.

As Red and I stepped off into the thick cover, I began to talk about why I was doing what I was doing. Trying not to touch trees to control scent; not stepping on small sticks and twigs. As we walked I caught myself grabbing trees and stumbling onto numerous sticks. I quickly told mentioned to her, do as I say, not as I do.

Then I asked "How many deer do I shoot?"

She sheepishly replied, "not many." The correct answer even though she appeared uncertain if she should state it. I reassured her that it was correct but since I had been hunting for longer than her, I knew more. She seemed to agree but I had my doubts.

We slowly and not so quietly made our way to the backside of the Family Land. This area is a small ridge that overlooks the east end of the land. There are numerous game trails that cross back and forth.

The evening went well. I whispered Reds ear off about this and that. She spotted 3 different color phases of squirrels. I almost stepped on a tree frog. Not a bad time for two nuts sitting in a camo tent.

As the night crept on, I kept instilling my vast knowledge onto Red. She was soaking it all in one ear and then right out the other. At least she acted like she was listening. As I was talking about looking for parts of the deer, not the whole thing, she said "I think there's one right there."

I replied that it could be, try to move very little and just watch it. If its a deer it will move after a few minutes. About 30 seconds later she said "its still there."

I replied "Ok, has it moved?"

"No."

"Just keep watching."

About 15 minutes later I notice Red still staring the direction of the possible deer. I asked her if it had moved at all and she said "No, I have been watching it since I saw it. Hasn't moved a bit."

Holding in a chuckle, I said "Well just keep scanning the rest of the woods and check on it every few minutes, I bet its not a deer."

As daylight turned into dark, we both spotted a few movements we thought could have been deer. I quietly told Red what I had seen and she said she has seen it also. The movement was in the thickest nastiest cover the Family land has to offer. Ideal bedding area if I do say so myself. I mean if I was a deer I would want to sleep in there.

As the day ended, we both were seeing movement that sure looked like deer. We could never get a clear look at what it was and just as the sun set the movement stopped.

A short time later, I was just about to pack up when Mud called my phone. I turned to Red and asked "Do you think he got one?"

I answered the phone asking if he had seen anything. He said he hadn't and was ready to go. I told him we were packing up and would meet him out at the corner of the field.

I packed and packed and packed and packed and packed. I didn't keep track but I am certain I carried out more than I carried in. Red and I made it out of the wood lot without any incident.

As we meet up with Mud, he asked if we kicked up any deer on the way out. I said no, we were being as quiet as we could be but didn't see anything. Seems as he approached the corner of the field there was a large commotion in the thickest nastiest cover on the family. Turns out Red and I did see something in the thickest nastiest cover on the family land. Too bad whatever it was holed up before we could see it.

All and all it was a great night. Red did awesome, nary a whine or whimper. We had brought a book for her to read in the event a case of severe boredom set in but the book never came out of the bag. I think she was concentrating to much on the cluster of leaves she thought was a deer.

Until next time, keep your feathers dry and heads sharp.

A New Season of Bow Hunting Is Here

Its that time of the year again. The most glorious time of the year. When God was creating times of the year, he set Fall a side and made it his special work. There is nothing about Fall that is not great.

The first relief from the summer heat, the crops stop growing as the they get ready to be harvested. Bear hunting, elk hunting, fall turkey hunting, small game hunting, fall trout and salmon runs. I think I covered it all. Oh wait... I knew I missed something... DEER HUNTING. How could I forget the greatest of the great? At least the greatest of the great we can do on a regular basis in Michigan.

October brings cooler temperatures, colorful leaves, nippy frost covered mornings, and bow hunting. What more could a Nimrod ask for? Besides Mud taking Murph home like he was supposed to, a new sled, a woring tree stand, a large plot of land but I digress.

The hunt is on and I am working. Mostly anyway. I made it out for opening morn, even if briefly. Spent the part of daylight in the woods as night faded into day. Or is it day scared away night? Either way I was there.

You often read how the woods come alive as the sun rises and warms the air. Not this day. It was a clear cool night, and as the sun brightened everything below it, the woods remained quiet. So quiet the only living creatures I saw during my sit was a red tail hawk and a cottontail rabbit.

And no. The Hawk was not eating the rabbit, not that I saw anyway.

Overall it was a great sit. A little short but it was great to be back in the woods with a bow in hand. Was even better since Murph slept in and wasn't nearby to play any of his antics.

I will part with the idea that its on. Oh yea, for certain its on and there are many Nimrod memories waiting to be had in the near future.

Early Season Antics

Short intro... welcome back... lets get to it.

The last few years the DNR has opened a "Early Antlerless Season," commonly referred to as the Early Doe Season. Well, it is unless you shoot a button buck then, you're glad its "Antlerless" not "Doe." The season is 5 days in mid September, before the youth and disabled Veteran hunts.

This season, I am going to be able to go hunting 2 nights out of 5 days. Great percentage there eh? I won't complain, at least I get twice!

First sit came the first night of the season. After Monkey got off the big yellow machine, Yoop got him and Munda ready for the trip to base ops. I was stuck in a boss meeting and after beating our heads together, getting little accomplished I rushed home. Grabbed the Blunderbuss, jumped in the Shagin' Wagon and set off for base ops. Yoop had done a good job, Monkey and Munda were ready to rock when I got home.

We got to baseops, made a quick change and hopped in Gray Beards Green Goblin. Started her up and took of for the family land. Pulled into the muddy, picked cornfield, and thought better about just turning around in the mud. The Green Goblin is a beast, but a 2 wheel drive beast. Grey Beard would not take kindly to me burying it in to the axles in the field, even if his boots never got dirty. So I tender footed it into a safe, solid parking spot.

Started the Nimrod pre-hunt rituals that I had not done in way too long. I fell right into the groove. Took off my boots to put on knee high rubber boots. Then realized my rubber boots were still in the cab of the Green Goblin. I hobbled stocking foot to get them out and put them on. Feet were already wet and muddy though. Grabbed the blunderbuss out of its case then set off for the stand.

This ladder stand was placed late season last year by Mud and I. I remember thoroughly thinking through where I wanted it and why. I was eager to get in and see if my hard work would pay off. Tonight the wind was out of the north west, which is an odd directions, but worked perfectly with the stand. I sat down about 5pm and had only until 7:30pm to hunt. Had to get Monkey home to bed for his day at the institute of higher education.

It was a misty, gloomy, breezy night. The night was uneventful. I did get a visit from the monster squirrel that nearly attacked me last season ( see it here: http://nimroddiaries.blogspot.com/2009/10/2009-bow-opener.html). He didn't realize I was in the tree as he wandered around gathering his nuts.

The next hunt, came the next night. The preparation was identical to the night before. As I scanned back and forth, forth and back, I realized that who ever had placed the ladder stand was a fool. Only had one clear shooting lane, and couldn't easily see the main crossing over the creek. I have a meeting with the fool to discuss his choice in stand placement.

After a few hours of back and forth and forth and back, my eyes were getting tired. Really tired. I decided not to waste a fine night in the woods. I tightened the safety strap and started checking my eye lids for holes. Not finding any, I fell into a trance where I got a cat nap and still maintained uninterrupted vigilance of any approaching deer.

As the sun set, I realized the deer were not playing along. As I watch God's great sunset I came out of the trance and started thinking about food. Yoop had some pizza waiting for me at baseops. Pizza and a cold daddy pop sounded pretty good.. but pizza would have to do.

While the taste of the cold cheese, chewy crust, overly sweet sauce danced in my head, I was nearly knocked out of my stand by a loud, menacing snort. The noise came from behind me and caught me so off guard, I was glad I had tightened by safety strap before the siesta. I slowly turned, expecting to see Murph with a dumb grin on his face, but instead I was greeted to a waving white tail.

Huh.. the deer did want to play... just not under the rules that I had set. I grabbed my blunderbuss, gathered my things and went home. I don't play well when others make the rules.

Fathers Day

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.

Hand fishing the jungle.

Welcome back.. I hate how Spring comes, ya make grandiose plans and they get interrupted by life. Mainly family but Life in general. Life is to my plans like Murph is to the execution.. not good.

Midday, while Monkey was at his institute of higher education and Yoop and Munda were doing midday girlie things, Ol Nimrod set off for a quick adventure.

We had bunches and bunches of rain over night, to the tune of 3 to inches. Once Lake Nimrod in the front yard soaked in, my mind turned to a small creek nearby. Heavy rain, run off, brook trout... eating the increased amount of food.. oh yea!!

Rushing out the door, I grabbed my swampers and bug spray then set off to the creek. The sled is waiting for repairs; more accurately waiting on me to get around to replacing some parts. So it was the 2 wheel drive monstrosity Yoop has under her ownership. The old Yoopmobile decided to call it quits on us during a trip back from Yooperland. After a long and hard search we found the perfect replacement.

The new beast has everything but the kitchen sink and transfer case and fuel efficient engine and driver side rear door. It does have some very comfy seats, lots of room, neat over head interior running lights, a radio (major improvement for my sanity on that one) and a bed. Yep a bed. Would be the perfect hunting and fishing rig if it had a transfer case, but I will have to be content with a bed instead.

Anyway, I set off from the house in the Shaggin' Wagon. With in a few minutes I was at the parking area of the creek. I looked at the water and realized I should have brought my chest waders not swampers. I grabbed the fly rod, soaked myself in some skeeter dope and set off toward the creek.

The trail is not new, its actually rather old. I think its where the Indians used to park their cars when they came fishing before the white man invaded their land. Yet once I got about a foot into the trail I could barely make it out.. it was a jungle. Spring was certainly here and the warm wet weather had done its work. Everything was green and thick. Nearly impenetrable. I worked my way through the knee high weeds, using the fly rod as a machete.

I searched back and forth for a spot to cast from the shore but there were no places open enough to cast. I checked the depth with my pole and found it a little too deep for my swampers.

I tossed the line out and it quickly got caught is some deadfall. Tried it again and the line wrapped around a branch above me. I took one step into the water to clear the overhead limbs and was reminded about the depth of the water when the cool creek water filled my swampers. I decided a few hand thrown casts would count as a day fishing and gathered my gear then headed back to the Shaggin' Wagon. I reached the beast, took off my swampers and watered a nearby wild flower. Packed up my stuff and called it a day. Two hand tossed casts, that never reached the water, were more than enough to call it a good day fishing.

All Cooped Up

What up cool cats? Hope y'all have been funkin' it on the real. Nimrod has been cooped up quite literally. Yet again I come back, and yet again you come back. You know around here we keep on truckin'.

A few days back Monkey and I were out working in the yard. “Working” by the way, is a covert term I often use to get out of the house and it rarely involves actual work. Yoop and Munda were in the house cause the weather was not great to have the little lady outside.

While working on the swing with Monkey, Yoop come out and said, you really need to build the chicken coop. She had been nagging me for, oh I don't know, about a month to build the coop, but I had just been putting it off.

I said “I know, whats the urgency this time?”

“Number Four was just in the sink.”

“Was the water on?”

“No. Just get it done.”

This conversation has happened before, but something about it this time made me think she really meant it. Maybe because it came with out the normal threat of having me sleep with the chickens all I knew was for my own safety I should really build the coop. It would also be nice to step out of the shower and not have 5 chickens staring at me like they had plans for me once I fell asleep.

Monkey and I finished our work for the night and after everyone went to sleep I put those Reefer drafting skills to work. After a short time I had a rough, very rough sketch of what I was planning on building. Good thing Yoop didn't wake up.. she thought I had drawn the plans a few weeks earlier. Instead I had watch some hunting shows on the DVR. Don't tell her, my personal safety may rest in your ability to keep your mouth shut. Pretty please!

OK enough groveling. The real reason I caved into Yoops demanding demands was I didn't want my Turkey season to be interrupted by messing around with poultry housing.

The next morning I retrieved the required building supplies and started making the poultry Mansion. My building skills are nearly as good as my hunting and fishing skills, so I knew this was going to turn into one of the all time best chicken coops created by mankind. Numbers One thru Five were not going to know what to do with themselves... it was going to be awesome!

The build started out normally. Measure once and cut twice is the adage I learned long ago when building. Even Monkey was in on the action. He would help me measure and then run like a deer who caught whiff of a Nimrod fart when the saw was in my hand. He also contributed by not letting me get too much in a groove, asking repeatedly to be pushed in his swing. Usually as I was getting ready to make a cut, for the second time.

Late afternoon the basic structure of the Mansion was taking shape. It had been hard but miserable work, especially since the weatherguy ordered record high temperatures for the area. I emailed the weatherguy to voice my displeasure over his choice in weather. He responded claiming that I had emailed him asking for the warm weather because chickens had been staring at me in the shower. While the peeping peepers were annoying I would not have hung my laundry out is such a way. Checking my sent messages I was not able to find any I sent him. My brain gears were turning.

Between refills on daddy pops, measuring once and cutting twice and pushing Monkey on his swing I was sweating like a pig heading to the market. The sweat was in my eyes and all over my hands but Ole Nimrod keep on truckin'.

After the frame was built I started putting the Devils fence on the frame. I quickly figured out where this stuff got its name. Its sharp, poking and gets caught on any piece of clothing you get near it. Working the Devils fence around the frame I began to wonder if doing this myself was worth the scrapes and pokes I was getting all over my body. Then I remembered I couldn't trust such an important structure to anyone but myself.

Over all things went well, I only had to measure twice a few times. The only time I sustained any sort of injury was when I was nailing the staples holding the Devils fence to the frame. I was concentrating on getting the fence lined up perfectly and when I started to tap on the staple something bumped be from behind. This caused me to increase the velocity of the swing and tap the tip of my bow hand index finger with the hammer. The blood blister formed instantly and brought back the familiar feeling of pain. Ahhh... blood blisters are good for the soul.

Instantly, after a minute of adult content spewing from my mouth, I turned to see what had bumped me. No one was around. Monkey had gotten bored helping from the swingset and was inside with Yoop and Munda. Both Fido's were also in being lazy in the excruciating heat. One through Five were still cooped up in the can. Weird.

A few more hours of wrestling the Devils fence, I finally finished 90% of the Mansion. It was missing a roof, but I didn't have enough lumber to make one. It will require another trip to the hardware store. I strutted like a spring Gobbler into the house to get Yoop and Monkey. I walked them out, explaining the Mansion was missing its roof but that would be coming tomorrow after yet another trip to the hardware store.

Yoop and Monkey circled the Mansion, checking out all the angles. Monkey squealed his approval and then ran to the swingset. Yoop continued her assessment making a second loop around.

“Its better than the dog house you built while we were in Texas,” she quipped.

“Gee thanks,” I responded knowing the jab wasn't a compliment at all.

Side note on the Texas dog house, I built it the morning of September 11, 2001, after watching my fellow Americans being attacked in NYC. Instead of being square and solid, it turned out more of a rhombus shape and was not overly sturdy. I must add it held up for about three years before old Muttly broke it.

Getting a bit impatient by Yoops hawk like surveillance of the Mansion, I asked “So, what do you think?”

“Not bad, especially for you.”

“So its good once I get the roof boards tomorrow?”

“Sure, but how are we going to get One through Five inside at night?”

“These doors on the back, there are two so you only have to open one to get the eggs once the start laying,” I replied confidently.

“Oh ok. How are we going to feed and water them?” Yoop professed.

“Right... hmmm...” I rambled

How were we going to get in and out to feed and water them? Or put them up for the night away from natures scavengers? I know I would not have over looked such a vital piece of the Mansion during the drafting phase. Brain gears were working overtime now. Weird.

I went and checked out my drawing and found the faint, erased lines of what originally were going to be a side door. How did they get erased? I pulled my pencil from my ear and found no eraser on the end. It wasn't me but then again why would I set myself up for failure?

By this time Yoop, apparently content with smashing my pride in workmanship, had gone to push Monkey and Munda on the swingset. I assessed the problem and grabbed the Devils fence cutters and cut a hole in the fence.

I fashioned up a door frame out of mismatched boards that were all to short. I measured once and cut twice on some small boards for a door. Screwed it all together and hung it on some hinges. Considering it was Nimrod made it turned out surprisingly well. Even swings smoothly. Sometimes even a blind squirrel finds a nut.

The next morning I got the roof boards and put the roof on. After nearly two full days of being cooped up building a coop I was finally done and could fly the coop.

The Mansion was a thing of beauty. I sat back, opened another daddy pop and thought Nimrod may just spend the first night in the Mansion himself...

Hooked on fishin'

Spring has sprung and it seems like summer is here. The first half of the Spring Turkey season is winding down and I am gearing up for the late season. I still have a week before my season starts so I needed to find a way to burn off some energy. Yoop suggested Monkey and I go fishing a little bit at the fishing hole. It sounded like a good idea and he seemed to think so also. Game on.

Monkey and I gathered our fishing stuff, stole the tub of chicken worms and set off to the fishing hole. Surprisingly the heep started right up... guess we weren't the only ones rearing to get out of the house. We made it to the fishing hole in a few minutes, Monkey hoped out of the Heep and ran to the lake. He was about to take a step into the water when I reminded him its not summer and we shouldn't just jump in.

After a few minutes of convincing him that letting him get in the water would get me in hot water with Yoop, he finally gave up and wanted to go fishing. He picked out a nice plump earthworm out of the chicken worm tub. Crazy Yoop has been collecting worms out of the leaf piles behind the house. In her mind the effort is two fold; it will make it easier to find worms to feed the chickens and cheaper than buying worms when Monkey and I go fishing. Gotta love that girl!

I worked Monkeys chosen worm onto his hook, and asked if he wanted to cast it out or if he wanted me too. This is a valid question as he is still working on his casting technique and this was the first time out for the season. He confidently state “I can do it” yanked the pole out of my hand and walked to the water.

When its safe to do so, I like letting people work on there own at learning and perfecting of a skill. So I stepped back and let Monkey do his thing trying to cast the worm out into the lake. At first I expected him to just cast it out half way across the lake using perfect form... he is part Yooper ya know.

As I readied my pole, I watched the young Nimrod out the corner of my eye and he ended up getting my full attention. He readied his rod, took a good stance, wound his body up and spun around in perfect discus form. The worm, hook and bobber ended up on the shore about 20 feet away from us. Not to be deterred he reeled in his line and readied for another attempt.

He again readied his pole, took a good stance, wound his body up and spun around in perfect discus form. This time went a wee bit different than the first. I was looking out into the lake expecting him to place it perfectly along the break where the fish were hanging out on this rather cool windy spring evening. While starring intently at the setting sun, I felt a tap on the back of my shirt. I swatted at it never taking my eyes off suns blinding effects on the lake.

After a few seconds of not seeing the worm, hook and bobber land in the lake, I turned to Monkey and wondered what had happen. His approach and spin seemed to be prefect the second time around. When my eye caught him I realized something was amiss. He had the looked of terror in his eyes.

“Did you hook yourself?” I asked,

“No daddy... I got you!!!”

Instantly, after a few seconds to think what happened, I realized the bump on my back was the chicken worm and hook smacking me after another mis-cast by Monkey.

“Dude.. don't move” I told him.

Turning with his rod while reeling in for another attempt he replies “What?”

“STOP!!!” I squealed, hoping he would comply instantly.

“Daddy, what do you want?” he asked, still turning and reeling.

“Monkey... just stop everything NOW, before you hook Dad instead of a fish.”

“Oh.”

Thinking I finally got his attention I start to carefully move to take the hook out of my shirt. Not one to do thing behind anyone's back, including my own, I quickly realized I was not going to be able to remove the hook while working blindly behind my back.

As I started to take my shirt off, Monkey stated “Dad you can't do that... no one wants to see it.”

“What?” I responded.

“Daddy leave your shirt on, no one wants your shirt off.”

“Its OK, buddy, I have to take it off to get your hook our of my back, or else you won't be able to fish anymore,” I answered, in an attempt to explain the severity of the situation. It didn't seem to help but he put his rod down and walked off to find something to play with near the water.

After I removed the monstrous hook I breathed a sigh of relief. A hair closer and that size 16 hook could have pierced my kidney. But Ole Nimrod is a machine.

We continued fishing until just before dark. Monkey got back in the groove from last year and was making some nice casts. Just before we left I told Monkey the fish must not be hungry tonight.

He replied “No dad, the fish must be sleeping already.”