Dad was not an outdoorsman.
At all.
I vaguely remember a pop-up camper when we were kids, but
six people in such a contraption scares me a little when I think about it
now. The camper was probably mostly used
for church camping events, and what I remember of them … it wasn’t always
fun. I do remember the smell of the
camper – heavy old canvas, mildew, dust.
Mold is now seen as a threat on par with second hand smoke and asbestos. Perhaps that says something about how
dangerous second hand smoke and asbestos are, rather than how dangerous mold
is. A related smell I can recall from
childhood was the humidifier in the winter; undoubtedly the water source was
far from pristine, but I liked the way it smelled. I guess I remember canvas and mildew in the
same way. The sense of smell can be very evocative.
But Dad was not an outdoorsman. At all. Having recently come across EB White's Once More to the Lake, I vividly recall a camping trip we took
together. I won’t bother to guess my age
or the year, but I believe it was at Miller Lake. I saw a sign for Miller Lake on my short trip to Michigan and the urge to turn in that direction was strong. But I didn’t and wasn’t even sure if it was
the same Miller Lake. It probably was. Not making that turn was probably the correct choice.
We pitched a tent somewhere near the lake – memory suggests
it was only for one night. We probably
had a fire and ate some food that was mostly cooked over it. Mostly cooked in that the food was probably
not completely cooked – I don’t think that mattered. I know I fished in the lake on this trip
though. Dad wasn’t much help with the
fishing, but he knew I loved fishing. I
probably had some exceedingly insufficient Zebco fishing rod, Dad bought worms
and I would cast out into no-man’s land.
Once that proved frustratingly impossible from the dock I might have
moved down the shore until I finally gave up and caught small blue gills right
at the end of the dock. I never seemed
to tire of that.
What I do clearly remember was catching a frog late in the
evening. I had a large treble hook that
I ungracefully perforated the frog with; I wince about that even now. Tying a piece of fishing line to the dock, I
threw the frog out into the lake at the end of the dock. In the morning I pulled on the line and
assumed it was broken. I pulled against
almost no resistance for too long until the line did gain weight. The tugging of a fish was unmistakable. But the line was just loose line attached to
the dock. It cut into my hands with the
fish on it. Without any reel, I picked
up the line out of the water with a huge fish attached. It flopped around violently a few times
before the line snapped. The fish
bounced into a boat tied to the dock, flopped and escaped back into the water –
gone forever. I’m sure my memory is
flawed - all memory is flawed, but looking back what I see is a huge, slimy dogfish. It was definitely some less-than-desirable
bottom feeder. Had I caught the fish,
I’m sure I would have wanted to take it home to eat it. Perhaps it is good that my Dad was not an
outdoorsman. At all. My failure to catch that
fish may well be a childhood blessing.
I can’t fathom why we went camping at Miller Lake. Given my upbringing, I'm puzzled by how I ended up chasing fur and fin with so much of my free time and energy. I somehow doubt Dad even enjoyed that camping trip but it
left an indelible imprint on my memory – and it was important. I hope Dad knew that.
Fishing with mostly people from work is not the same as fishing with Dad. Life at 40-something is vastly different than life somewhere in or around the single-digits. Staying in a condo is not like camping. And while there may be a bit of fishing for small fish off of a deck, there won't be any eviscerating of frogs. Dogfish? Highly unlikely. Sheep's Head? Almost assuredly.
I headed out on my early Sunday dog walk. Everything was breathlessly still, with the tree frogs, crickets and other insects proving a background din. It is amazing how noisy summer can be, and as background it all blends away if not consciously listening to it. I saw a deer in a soybean field which I always take as a good sign; the deer did not think that seeing me was a good sign.
Once back at home I had a few things to wrap up before heading out. And that left me with too much time to sit around, but not enough to do anything else useful - so I decided to attack the hood insulation on my Ridgeline. Mice had made nests in the insulation and used it as building materials elsewhere as well so I wanted to get rid of it and I replaced it with adhesive insulation. Hopefully it works and hopefully the lack of building material means the mice will go elsewhere. I remain at war with the mice.
With the updated insulation complete - and it looked reasonably decent - I headed to Dave's. Dave and I talked for a few minutes while we waited for Steve to show up. Then we headed out to Nick's to meet with other people who are fishing. Nick wasn't fishing this year, but I guess his house still made a convenient, central place to meet. Once at Nick's, I switched to Chuck's vehicle with his son Tyler. Dave was going to be waiting for Tom, who was anticipating being a bit late.
The trip up was uneventful with conversation around hunting, fishing, work and life. We made tentative plans to see about duck hunting this coming season - something I've wanted to try for a very long time.
Once at the condos, people spread out and did their own thing. On this trip was Dave, Steve, Chuck, Tyler, Chris, Jun, Dan, Tom and myself (and one other who I never got his name). It was a pretty varied group with an assortment of personalities; I guess my own was thrown in there as well. I spent some time fishing and even had one pretty decent bass on, but the fish got it wrapped around the electric line to the pond pump. I lost the fish and my lure, but with it attached to the electric line, I colored it gone.
Dinner was ribeyes of colon-cancer inducing size. Much of my eating at home is wild game so the beef was a nice change. I had made cupcakes for dessert, but the meal was so big that they were largely untouched. Between that and the largely untouched cupcakes I made to celebrate 1/2 my life working for the same company, I think I'm done making anything for anybody for a while.
There was a little bit more fishing and BSing until I decided to turn in - my hope was to fall asleep early before Tom got to sleep. Sometimes my hopes are dashed on the rocks of a hot room, uncomfortable place and a still-full belly. Ear plugs help though and I was eventually able to get to sleep - at least fitfully.
At around 4:30 I just couldn't stand it any more and got up. I tried to be quiet, but ended up waking Steve, who was sleeping in the condo's loft.
Breakfast was a protein bar and a cupcake with some really awful energy drink I got free at Kroger. Life goes on.
Soon enough it was time to head to the water - except I had lost my camera. It wasn't a terribly expensive one, but as a waterproof model I've used extensively on various adventures, I wasn't very happy. I also wasn't keen on giving a memory card half full of my pictures to whoever eventually found it. I was nearly 100% sure it had fallen into the couch, but I couldn't find it despite an exhaustive search. I also learned that the cleaning of the condos was only cursory and skin deep. Perhaps it is best not to peer too intently behind that curtain.
So despite the frustration of the last camera, we headed out and I chalked it up to an unfortunate cost of the adventure.
The boat was only about five minutes away and we got set up quickly. Captain Jack was taking out Dave, Tom, Steve, ??, and myself. I found out quickly that a couple people had very little in the way of fishing experience - be we made the best of it.
The day started out really nice with cool temperatures and a nice breeze.
As soon as we got out into the more open water though, that breeze turned into a wind which persisted through the day. That wind also churned up the water to some rough Erie waves. The waves weren't horrendous, but it was rough. Walking on the boat was at times inelegant. I started the day feeling kind of crappy which was probably less due to the waves than to the lack of sleep and frustration with the lost camera (despite my attempts to rationalize the situation). Additionally, any brief diet change can be a bit of a challenge. Even with the chop of the water, no one got sick although Steve disappeared into the covered part of the boat several times. I thought it was actually worse down there as the smell was ... peculiar.
Fishing started off good as almost immediately I hooked into a reasonably good fish. The captain was busy getting lines ready and I attempted to yank it out myself. I failed...
But our initial drift was really good. We caught several fish by casting, but using "bottom bouncers" was the star of the day. I had not used these before for walleye. Much of the morning I cast just to keep my mind occupied, while paying close attention to the bottom bouncers.
We started another drift and continued to do well, although definitely not as good as the first drift. The other boat limited out early - leaving us to feel a little inadequate - I'd blame the experience of the people on the boat, but with a lack of bites, I think the other boat lucked into a better school of walleye. I might have been a little frustrated if I was the other boat since they didn't go after small mouth or anything after limiting, but had to go back ... and some had to wait due to the driving situation.
The afternoon was slower, hotter, windier and wavier. At some point, Dave and I talked that we should probably end soon. But the captain seemed determine to limit so I was in; I guess we all were. There always seems to be a compulsion to limit out. We went around for one more drift. Once we started that final drift, the captain counted fish and realized we had already limited out. As we were bringing in the lines, Tom and I doubled on two fair walleyes. Back they went into the choppy water and we headed back for the long ride to the dock. The ride in felt almost painful in comparison to the ride out.
It never ceases to amuse me that we end up fishing near Cedar point - one of those places I felt was like near heaven-on-earth as a kid. I'd rather fish now, thank you very much.
Back at the dock, we took a few pictures and unloaded the fish to the cleaners. While it took a long time to catch the limit, the quality of the fish seemed better than in some of the past years. I'm not sure how many fish qualify of "a mess" but that is a mess of fish. They will be good eating in the weeks ahead.
Chuck and Tyler had found my camera when they dropped some cashews in the couch back at the condo while they waited. After assuming it was gone, getting it back was like winning the lottery! The lack of a camera while fishing meant that I didn't get many pictures through the day as I turned my phone off due to the water and a weak battery. Less pictures means more living in the moment. No complaints.
We ate at the restaurant at the dock - more expensive than fast food, but we had time and the food was quite good. Captain Jack sat down with us for a while - he was all work on the boat, but quite talkative with a beer after. And he got us 20% off our food.
Feeling better, we went and picked up our cleaned fish before heading home. Much like the boat ride in after fishing, the drive home felt painfully long compared to the ride north. Back at Dave's I unloaded my stuff and headed home. My feet ached from trying to stand on the rocking boat all day. I guess a small price to pay for a day of fishing.
Unpack, clean up a bit before heading to bed (and work in the morning).
This fishing trip always seems like a bit of a whirlwind. It is fun - although I think I like the group a little smaller than it was. One boat of five is a better fit for me. Still, I had a great time and would miss it if I had the opportunity and to go and didn't.
Even if fishing with a group of guys who all are getting a bit grey is a lot different from camping and fishing with Dad, it is still time well spent. Time will tell if there are to be any lingering memories. And in the end, there were only a few sheep heads caught.
I headed out on my early Sunday dog walk. Everything was breathlessly still, with the tree frogs, crickets and other insects proving a background din. It is amazing how noisy summer can be, and as background it all blends away if not consciously listening to it. I saw a deer in a soybean field which I always take as a good sign; the deer did not think that seeing me was a good sign.
Once back at home I had a few things to wrap up before heading out. And that left me with too much time to sit around, but not enough to do anything else useful - so I decided to attack the hood insulation on my Ridgeline. Mice had made nests in the insulation and used it as building materials elsewhere as well so I wanted to get rid of it and I replaced it with adhesive insulation. Hopefully it works and hopefully the lack of building material means the mice will go elsewhere. I remain at war with the mice.
With the updated insulation complete - and it looked reasonably decent - I headed to Dave's. Dave and I talked for a few minutes while we waited for Steve to show up. Then we headed out to Nick's to meet with other people who are fishing. Nick wasn't fishing this year, but I guess his house still made a convenient, central place to meet. Once at Nick's, I switched to Chuck's vehicle with his son Tyler. Dave was going to be waiting for Tom, who was anticipating being a bit late.
The trip up was uneventful with conversation around hunting, fishing, work and life. We made tentative plans to see about duck hunting this coming season - something I've wanted to try for a very long time.
Once at the condos, people spread out and did their own thing. On this trip was Dave, Steve, Chuck, Tyler, Chris, Jun, Dan, Tom and myself (and one other who I never got his name). It was a pretty varied group with an assortment of personalities; I guess my own was thrown in there as well. I spent some time fishing and even had one pretty decent bass on, but the fish got it wrapped around the electric line to the pond pump. I lost the fish and my lure, but with it attached to the electric line, I colored it gone.
Dinner was ribeyes of colon-cancer inducing size. Much of my eating at home is wild game so the beef was a nice change. I had made cupcakes for dessert, but the meal was so big that they were largely untouched. Between that and the largely untouched cupcakes I made to celebrate 1/2 my life working for the same company, I think I'm done making anything for anybody for a while.
There was a little bit more fishing and BSing until I decided to turn in - my hope was to fall asleep early before Tom got to sleep. Sometimes my hopes are dashed on the rocks of a hot room, uncomfortable place and a still-full belly. Ear plugs help though and I was eventually able to get to sleep - at least fitfully.
At around 4:30 I just couldn't stand it any more and got up. I tried to be quiet, but ended up waking Steve, who was sleeping in the condo's loft.
Breakfast was a protein bar and a cupcake with some really awful energy drink I got free at Kroger. Life goes on.
Soon enough it was time to head to the water - except I had lost my camera. It wasn't a terribly expensive one, but as a waterproof model I've used extensively on various adventures, I wasn't very happy. I also wasn't keen on giving a memory card half full of my pictures to whoever eventually found it. I was nearly 100% sure it had fallen into the couch, but I couldn't find it despite an exhaustive search. I also learned that the cleaning of the condos was only cursory and skin deep. Perhaps it is best not to peer too intently behind that curtain.
So despite the frustration of the last camera, we headed out and I chalked it up to an unfortunate cost of the adventure.
The boat was only about five minutes away and we got set up quickly. Captain Jack was taking out Dave, Tom, Steve, ??, and myself. I found out quickly that a couple people had very little in the way of fishing experience - be we made the best of it.
The day started out really nice with cool temperatures and a nice breeze.
As soon as we got out into the more open water though, that breeze turned into a wind which persisted through the day. That wind also churned up the water to some rough Erie waves. The waves weren't horrendous, but it was rough. Walking on the boat was at times inelegant. I started the day feeling kind of crappy which was probably less due to the waves than to the lack of sleep and frustration with the lost camera (despite my attempts to rationalize the situation). Additionally, any brief diet change can be a bit of a challenge. Even with the chop of the water, no one got sick although Steve disappeared into the covered part of the boat several times. I thought it was actually worse down there as the smell was ... peculiar.
Fishing started off good as almost immediately I hooked into a reasonably good fish. The captain was busy getting lines ready and I attempted to yank it out myself. I failed...
But our initial drift was really good. We caught several fish by casting, but using "bottom bouncers" was the star of the day. I had not used these before for walleye. Much of the morning I cast just to keep my mind occupied, while paying close attention to the bottom bouncers.
We started another drift and continued to do well, although definitely not as good as the first drift. The other boat limited out early - leaving us to feel a little inadequate - I'd blame the experience of the people on the boat, but with a lack of bites, I think the other boat lucked into a better school of walleye. I might have been a little frustrated if I was the other boat since they didn't go after small mouth or anything after limiting, but had to go back ... and some had to wait due to the driving situation.
The afternoon was slower, hotter, windier and wavier. At some point, Dave and I talked that we should probably end soon. But the captain seemed determine to limit so I was in; I guess we all were. There always seems to be a compulsion to limit out. We went around for one more drift. Once we started that final drift, the captain counted fish and realized we had already limited out. As we were bringing in the lines, Tom and I doubled on two fair walleyes. Back they went into the choppy water and we headed back for the long ride to the dock. The ride in felt almost painful in comparison to the ride out.
It never ceases to amuse me that we end up fishing near Cedar point - one of those places I felt was like near heaven-on-earth as a kid. I'd rather fish now, thank you very much.
Back at the dock, we took a few pictures and unloaded the fish to the cleaners. While it took a long time to catch the limit, the quality of the fish seemed better than in some of the past years. I'm not sure how many fish qualify of "a mess" but that is a mess of fish. They will be good eating in the weeks ahead.
Chuck and Tyler had found my camera when they dropped some cashews in the couch back at the condo while they waited. After assuming it was gone, getting it back was like winning the lottery! The lack of a camera while fishing meant that I didn't get many pictures through the day as I turned my phone off due to the water and a weak battery. Less pictures means more living in the moment. No complaints.
We ate at the restaurant at the dock - more expensive than fast food, but we had time and the food was quite good. Captain Jack sat down with us for a while - he was all work on the boat, but quite talkative with a beer after. And he got us 20% off our food.
Feeling better, we went and picked up our cleaned fish before heading home. Much like the boat ride in after fishing, the drive home felt painfully long compared to the ride north. Back at Dave's I unloaded my stuff and headed home. My feet ached from trying to stand on the rocking boat all day. I guess a small price to pay for a day of fishing.
Unpack, clean up a bit before heading to bed (and work in the morning).
This fishing trip always seems like a bit of a whirlwind. It is fun - although I think I like the group a little smaller than it was. One boat of five is a better fit for me. Still, I had a great time and would miss it if I had the opportunity and to go and didn't.
Even if fishing with a group of guys who all are getting a bit grey is a lot different from camping and fishing with Dad, it is still time well spent. Time will tell if there are to be any lingering memories. And in the end, there were only a few sheep heads caught.
