A good day on the lake

Yesterday was a good day on the lake.

I decided to make a quick, early morning kayak-fishing trip as soon as I saw the stars shining down from a cloudless sky. Around seven I grabbed my little tackle box, stuck it on its Velcro strips in front of the kayaks cockpit and dropped my ultralight rod, with a reel which I've had since 1958, in beside my canvas creel and the new net Brad gave me for father's day.

It only takes about 5 minutes to drag my nine foot kayak on its little lawnmower wheeled cart from our house to Eckman Lake. The put-in that I dug out several years ago is getting overgrown with weeds and grass, so it took a little effort to slide in, but soon I was gliding across the smooth, glassy water. The sun was just starting to peek over the trees on the east shore, so I stopped in a sunny spot to rig up my rod. I've used the same home made spinners for years now; the orange and black beads and brass blade seem to work better than anything else I've tried. A few days ago I'd decided to bend down the barbs on the treble hooks to make it easier to release fish without harming them.

I decided to try a few casts, even though I was still quite a way from my favorite spot. On the second cast a big trout hit my lure, hard! My reel handle was spinning backwards, (the drag hasn't worked for 20 years!) and the kayak was turning, starting to follow the fish. I hope he doesn't jump, I thought, remembering the barbless hooks and how easily they came out. Then I could feel him shaking his head and suddenly he was gone. I reeled in and exchanged the spinner for another one with barbed hooks.

I paddled to my “sweet spot,” lining up a bush on the south shore with a power pole on the north side, a cat road on the west with a road sign on the east, and I was ready to fish! It was still in the shade so it felt much cooler, and there were clouds of steam rising from the water.

I used to think that my “sweet spot” was the old creek channel, but after running some temperature checks with a digital thermometer I found just one tiny spot that was ten degrees cooler than the rest of the lake, so it probably is a fresh water spring and the cold water attracts the trout.

A few casts later, I hooked into a ten incher and he did a typical Rainbow Trout fight, a couple of fast runs, splashing and jumping all the way. I reeled him in and released him by grabbing the hook with needle nose pliers, turning it upside down and letting him flop loose without touching him. They come off much easier with barbless hooks, but then as I had just found out, so do the keepers.

A slight north wind had started up, blowing me past my spot. I paddled back to the south far enough so that the wind would carry me back across it and started casting.

Another big fish hit, and as soon as the kayak started to follow him and my reel handle began its knuckle busting, backward spin I knew it was a keeper. I saw the taut four pound test line began to rise and I knew he was going to jump. He cleared the water and I got a good look at him before he took off on another run that made my line sizzle through the water. This is a good one! I thought, as I slid my Father's Day net out and put it in my lap.

He had towed me over to shallower water and then he did something that Rainbows seldom do, he went for the bottom. The bottom of the lake, especially in the shallow water, is covered in great blobs of moss and I tried to keep him from getting tangled in one. He managed to get a fair sized glob tangled in the hooks and then took off for deeper water, pulling me and my boat behind him. I began to think that there was no way I could ever land him.

He jumped again several times, and he kept trying to get behind me, spinning the kayak around in a circle. I could tell he was tiring, he was fighting both me and the glob of moss hanging from the lure. I usually try to land a fish on the left side of my boat but this one just wouldn't co-operate, so I switched my rod to my left hand and picked up the net with my right. Several times I got him in close enough to make a stab at netting him but he was almost too big for the net and I kept flubbing it. Once I had him in the net, but he flopped out before I could lift him into the boat.

Finally I got it right and put him, still in the net, between my legs on the kayak floor, broke down my rod and paddled for the boat dock where I always take out, and home.

The beautifully colored Rainbow was 19 inches long and weighed 3 pounds. I had a half of one of the bright orange fillets for lunch today.

The Lake

The weather's been so lousy and I've been so lazy, that I've either been in front of the TV or the computer for weeks now.

I had almost forgotten how great it is to drag my kayak over to the lake, the little home made wheels rattling over the roadside gravel, sliding it in through the grass and reeds, and heaving a sigh of relief as I glide out onto the early morning, glassy water.

Usually there are streamers of mist rising from the warm surface and some mornings there's a fog bank sitting over the lake, until the sun rises far enough to burn it off.

My senses welcome a flight of Canadian Geese honking overhead, their wings beating the air, the deep thrum of a large Bullfrog somewhere along the shoreline, the warning cry of a mother Osprey when I near her power line nest and the splash of a feeding Rainbow trout as I stop paddling and let the north wind push me to my favorite fishing spot.

Sometimes I don't even fish, I just sit and relax, watching Kingfishers diving for minnows or Otters poking their heads out of the water and curiously looking at me before submerging (and probably catching more trout than I will.)

When I let the wind carry me into the shallow water at the lakes edge, I can watch schools of minnows and tadpoles, clouds of freshwater shrimp and insects swimming through the moss and water plants, and once in a while a startled turtle will slide off of a log where I interrupted his enjoyment of the morning sun.

When I'm fishing I release most of what I catch, sometimes keeping one for breakfast the next day, or if it's a really big one, taking it home to brag about. My casting skills are deteriorating as the Parkinson's advances, and as far as tying a blood knot with my shaky hands, forget it!

I'm just glad that I can enjoy myself on the lake, whether I'm fishing, or just drifting with the wind, watching and listening.

Roadkill Raccoon

No, Carol didn't hit me!

My old droopy eye lids were sagging down over my eyes so much that my peripheral vision was just about nonexistent. (Gravity seems to be the enemy of getting old.)
The eye doctor had suggested that I get a Blepharoplasty ( Easy for him to say!) over a year ago, but I kept putting it off. Finally, a couple of weeks ago I gave up and made an appointment for the surgery.

He explained that he'd cut away the excess skin that was drooping over my eyes and after some healing I'd be like new again, and look years younger! “As long as I don't look like the runaway bride!” I told him.

I remained semi awake through most of the surgery, floating happily along on the anesthesia. The swallowing problems I have because of Parkinson's caused me to start coughing and gagging at one point, but it passed and he didn't cut off my nose or anything, so I guess it wasn't a big problem.

At home after the surgery, I faithfully applied ice packs for 20 minutes every hour for the first day to keep down the swelling, and slept with my head elevated. The next morning when I looked in the bathroom mirror, a strange black and blue and yellow image peered out at me. It looked like a raccoon that had been in an accident... a roadkill raccoon!

Carol and I are going to our great-grandson Aiden's fourth birthday party today and I think I'd better keep my sunglasses on, or great grandpa might just scare the heck out of him!