Today is Wednesday, on Monday I had "The One That Got Away" in wind gusts of 25 mph in a small 16 footer. Well, it's the same 16 footer on the same Bear Island Lake with the same driver--my friends mostly silent but occasionally dryly humorous husband. The sun was shining as we trolled back and forth and back and forth. At least the wind wasn't blowing my line under the boat, into the motor and onto his back--sufficiently hooking my first catch of the season.
I caught a few more of those 'average' fellows that I spared from the hot skillet. And then, this one came along:
A small, 1 1/4 pound, large-mouth bass. According to my expert guide, this WAS a keeper because it was the largest large-mouth he'd seen in Bear Island Lake. He caught plenty of small-mouth, a few walleye and a couple northern's, but I caught the large-mouth. Imagine THAT!! Has no correlation to my own big mouth AT ALL!!
The day was nice, but of course I'd forgotten the camera so can't show you (right now) a view of the north woods surrounding a rippling lake, but it is divine.
We'd been out some 3 hrs, went back for lunch and I managed to get in and out and back in the boat all under my own power, which is pretty good considering I'm not a petite woman (anymore). After another hour on the water, sitting on a pad on a wooden bench, my back was screaming at me through the nerves in my neck and head. My escort was considerate enough to take me back without complaint.
We arrived at the dock and he asked if I needed help to which I replied, "let's see." I proceeded to attempt one foot, then the other foot, then stood on the seat, pointed a foot (any foot) at the dock and fell face first. Without missing a beat or cracking a smile, he said," Circle one, yes or no. You're beginning to hurt my eyes."
I grabbed hold of the extended hand and CLIMBED onto the pier.
"I wanted to do it myself. I used to be able to," I said to his back as he threw "OK" over his shoulder and proceeded on. OK, as in, yeah sure.
I did used to, honest!