If you don't already know, I love to fish for Bass. I would do just about anything to spend a day on the lake in search of my favorite fish. The best part of all the time I spend on the water is that I have accumulated a ton of funny stories. I don't have the ability to remember the order in which they came. So, I'll just pass them along as they come to me.
I've always enjoyed fishing in Bass tournaments. It's always fun to fish and the competition part makes it just that much better. So when I started dating my wife I asked her would she be interested in fishin some tournaments with me. She told me she would like to but she had never fished for Bass before. I told her not to worry she didn't even have to fish if she didn't want because i didn't care if we won or not. It didn't take long for her to decide to do it. I found a perfect tournament trail that consisted of men and women. I entered us and we were on our way!
The first tourney came and I was excited. My wife was excited as well and was trying to prepare for what was to come. While Me, her, and a friend of ours were shopping she asked should she get a rain coat. Me and my buddy just kinda laughed and said we don't think you'll be needing it. She decided she should probably get it anyways. The night before the tourney it began to rain hard and the temperature began to plunge. When we woke up the next mornin it was still raining and had turned cold. I told her that if she didn't want to fish it was just fine with me. To my surprise she told me she was ready for anything and began to put on her rain suit. This caught me off guard a bit cause I really didn't want to get out in the cold rain. However, I was definitely not goin to let her beat me out so I decided to get ready. I made a quick call to my Dad to ask him where my rain suit was. Much to my surprise good ole Dad told me he had taken them out and hung them in the barn to air out so they wouldn't smell. Great!! I told my wife this wouldn't be a problem for me at all. I put on a pair of sweatpants under my blue jeans, two t shirts, a sweatshirt and then my fishing shirt. I also put on a ski hat and some gloves. Ready to go!!!
We launched the boat at safe light which is way too early to be on the water in a down pour. The wind had also picked up making life that much better. We decided to head into one of the nearby canals in an effort to avoid as much wind as possible. Everything seemed to be goin just fine. My wife was lookin cute as could be in her new rain suit and was fishin her tail off. I was dry as could be and almost hot. Unfortunately, It only took about an hour before I realized my clothing was soakin up the water like a sponge. As the water made it through my jeans and into my sweatpants I began to get colder and colder. Not only that, my clothes also became heavier and heavier. I was determined not to let it get the best of me!
Just about the time I was about to give in the rain stopped. After quietly thanking the good Lord I told my wife "See, its not gonna be that bad!" She replied "I'm fine but I know you have to be freezin your butt off!" Even though she was dead on I said "Naw, Im just fine!" as I pulled up my heavy britches. About that time we actually began to catch some fish. With every fish I began to forget about the cold and began to have a great time. We finished inside the top ten and was very excited at our placement in our very first trip. I was happy to get dried off and drove home in my underwear. I couldn't have been happier with my wife. She was quite the trooper and we still fish together as often as we can!!
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Fishing
Figured I would post this story. I sent this in to a contest for short stories just to see how I might do. I'm sure I could never win something like that but it sure was fun to write! Hope you enjoy!
Its Saturday night and I cannot go to sleep. I keep tossing and turning and looking at my alarm clock that is set to go off at four a.m. Finally, I dose off about two in the morning just knowing I'm gonna not hear the alarm. I quickly wake up and look at the clock and its three fifty eight. I turn the alarm off and quietly begin to prepare for the adventure I have been waiting for all week. Just as I leave the bedroom and move to the kitchen I see Dad and he asks me "You ready?" I quickly reply with a "Yes sir, lets go!" With the boat in tow we head towards the lake. It seems to take forever to reach the boat ramp. Thoughts of what kind of memories the day will bring fill my head. I haven't another care or thought in the world. We slide the jonboat out of the back of the truck and into the water. Dad hooks up the trolling motor and we are away. The sun has just began to rise and the lake has fog just about five feet off the water. The water is dead calm and there is not a sound to be heard. It was one heck of a sight to behold. As we glided across the water a very large blue heron effortlessly flew directly across in front of me. He was huge with a giant wingspan. I watched in awe as he landed in the shallow and began his day of fishing. Finally Dad said "Ok, this looks like a good place to start!" The shoreline where we were at was lined with trees. Some of the trees were overhanging the water while others had actually fallen to a watery grave. There were also a few lilypads and cattails mixed into the wooded structure. This was definitely a place where I would live if i were a Large Mouth Bass. As the sun burned away the fog you could hear the wilderness come to life. Frogs, birds and other wildlife began to stir. Fish began to break the water and you could see the rings of waves left behind. My mind was suddenly transported back to reality when Dad exclaimed "there he is!" He set the hook and his pole bent from the size of the fish that had taken the bait. Dad said "It feels like a good one" as if I wasn't excited enough already. I was anxious to see this fish and he was quick to not disappoint me. The Bass broke the surface and launched itself into the air shaking with everything it had trying to throw the hook loose. When he reentered the water he dug for the depths as Dads drag peeled from his reel. I began to coach Dad as if he was a little league player. I shouted "Don't force him" and "Keep your rod bent!" Finally, after what seemed to be at least an hour Dad brought the monster alongside the boat and said "Grab him and don't miss!" Inspired by the fact that Dad intrusted me to bring this prize of a fish he had into the boat overwhelmed me. I reached into the water and grasped the fish by the bottom lip and began to raise him into the boat. He splashed me one last time with his tail with what seemed like one last attempt at freedom. With a grin that went from ear to ear I turned to hand the fish to Dad. He seemed to have the same exact smile on his face as I did but there was something a bit different about it. We got a camera out of the tackle box and snapped away a few pictures of the trophy Dad had landed! Dad gave the fish back to me and said "Here you can release him." I took one last look at this amazing fish and then gently eased him into the water. After a second or two the fish realized where he was and took off with haste. As the fish disappeared into the depths Dad said "Just think how big he will be the next time we catch him!" We fished well into the afternoon while catching a few and losing a few. However, none came close to the size of the first one. Finally, it was time to go and we stowed our gear and headed back to the truck. With the boat loaded and smiles on our faces we returned to the house. We both couldn't wait to tell our story of the big fish and show off the pictures.
Twenty something years later and I still remember this and every fishing trip that Dad and I shared. We still go fishing together on a regular basis and I still get just as excited about every trip. However, it took me becoming a Dad myself to actually understand the difference in my smile and Dads that day. Thanks Dad!
Its Saturday night and I cannot go to sleep. I keep tossing and turning and looking at my alarm clock that is set to go off at four a.m. Finally, I dose off about two in the morning just knowing I'm gonna not hear the alarm. I quickly wake up and look at the clock and its three fifty eight. I turn the alarm off and quietly begin to prepare for the adventure I have been waiting for all week. Just as I leave the bedroom and move to the kitchen I see Dad and he asks me "You ready?" I quickly reply with a "Yes sir, lets go!" With the boat in tow we head towards the lake. It seems to take forever to reach the boat ramp. Thoughts of what kind of memories the day will bring fill my head. I haven't another care or thought in the world. We slide the jonboat out of the back of the truck and into the water. Dad hooks up the trolling motor and we are away. The sun has just began to rise and the lake has fog just about five feet off the water. The water is dead calm and there is not a sound to be heard. It was one heck of a sight to behold. As we glided across the water a very large blue heron effortlessly flew directly across in front of me. He was huge with a giant wingspan. I watched in awe as he landed in the shallow and began his day of fishing. Finally Dad said "Ok, this looks like a good place to start!" The shoreline where we were at was lined with trees. Some of the trees were overhanging the water while others had actually fallen to a watery grave. There were also a few lilypads and cattails mixed into the wooded structure. This was definitely a place where I would live if i were a Large Mouth Bass. As the sun burned away the fog you could hear the wilderness come to life. Frogs, birds and other wildlife began to stir. Fish began to break the water and you could see the rings of waves left behind. My mind was suddenly transported back to reality when Dad exclaimed "there he is!" He set the hook and his pole bent from the size of the fish that had taken the bait. Dad said "It feels like a good one" as if I wasn't excited enough already. I was anxious to see this fish and he was quick to not disappoint me. The Bass broke the surface and launched itself into the air shaking with everything it had trying to throw the hook loose. When he reentered the water he dug for the depths as Dads drag peeled from his reel. I began to coach Dad as if he was a little league player. I shouted "Don't force him" and "Keep your rod bent!" Finally, after what seemed to be at least an hour Dad brought the monster alongside the boat and said "Grab him and don't miss!" Inspired by the fact that Dad intrusted me to bring this prize of a fish he had into the boat overwhelmed me. I reached into the water and grasped the fish by the bottom lip and began to raise him into the boat. He splashed me one last time with his tail with what seemed like one last attempt at freedom. With a grin that went from ear to ear I turned to hand the fish to Dad. He seemed to have the same exact smile on his face as I did but there was something a bit different about it. We got a camera out of the tackle box and snapped away a few pictures of the trophy Dad had landed! Dad gave the fish back to me and said "Here you can release him." I took one last look at this amazing fish and then gently eased him into the water. After a second or two the fish realized where he was and took off with haste. As the fish disappeared into the depths Dad said "Just think how big he will be the next time we catch him!" We fished well into the afternoon while catching a few and losing a few. However, none came close to the size of the first one. Finally, it was time to go and we stowed our gear and headed back to the truck. With the boat loaded and smiles on our faces we returned to the house. We both couldn't wait to tell our story of the big fish and show off the pictures.
Twenty something years later and I still remember this and every fishing trip that Dad and I shared. We still go fishing together on a regular basis and I still get just as excited about every trip. However, it took me becoming a Dad myself to actually understand the difference in my smile and Dads that day. Thanks Dad!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Mako's Greatest Day!
Mako was the name of my dad's dog. He was a thick Bull Terrier breed. If you don't know the kind of dog just think Spuds Mckenzie, cept black with white spots. He was like a tank and solid muscle. A bit crazy when he was young, to say the least, but a very good dog. He cost a lot of money and paid us back two fold with some of the crazy stuff he did. Just a good tempered all around pooch. That is why my parents decided to breed him and make some money!
Well, Mom and Dad got a call from a lady that was very interested in using Mako for stud service. They sent her pictures so she could see his markings and she decided she wanted to do it. The next Saturday she came to the house. One of my crazy aunts was also visiting us at the time. I waited with anticipation to see what the ladies dog was goin to look like. Her and my parents reached an agreement and the lady walked to her car. When she returned she had her dog on the leash. She was a pretty female and was all white. The lady also had in her hand a ziploc bag that had another ziploc and what appeared to be some sort of small tube.
Much to our amazement the lady got Mako and took him around to the other side of the barn. She didn't take the female dog with her. It took a few for us to figure out what she was goin to do. Oh my goodness! Lets just say this lady had taken this step of the breeding process in her hand! My aunt kept askin my Mom and Dad what she was doin around there. We were laughin at the thought of it and my aunt askin questions didn't help matters at all.
Well, Mom and Dad got a call from a lady that was very interested in using Mako for stud service. They sent her pictures so she could see his markings and she decided she wanted to do it. The next Saturday she came to the house. One of my crazy aunts was also visiting us at the time. I waited with anticipation to see what the ladies dog was goin to look like. Her and my parents reached an agreement and the lady walked to her car. When she returned she had her dog on the leash. She was a pretty female and was all white. The lady also had in her hand a ziploc bag that had another ziploc and what appeared to be some sort of small tube.
Much to our amazement the lady got Mako and took him around to the other side of the barn. She didn't take the female dog with her. It took a few for us to figure out what she was goin to do. Oh my goodness! Lets just say this lady had taken this step of the breeding process in her hand! My aunt kept askin my Mom and Dad what she was doin around there. We were laughin at the thought of it and my aunt askin questions didn't help matters at all.
The lady returned from around the barn. Mako was following her and panting as if he had ran a marathon. When the lady got close we noticed that she had a ziploc bag tucked under her arm pit. She was also in quite a hurry. She asked Dad if he could help hold the female dog still and he said he would. So, as he was holdin the dog the lady took out the tube thing and filled it with the specimen she had collected from dads dog. She then took the tube and inserted it into the female dogs you know what. Then (this is the kicker) she proceeded to put her mouth on the other end and blow the specimen home to its targeted area!!! I can tell you that we all were a damn fine sight to see at that moment. My aunts face was worth a million dollars. She kept sayin "Oh my!! ewwwe, gross!" The lady then told us that this is the best way she knew of to make sure the breeding process would take. I can tell you this, I never would have a need for a puppy that bad! However, she did make a friend for life out of Mako!!!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
The Hog In the Barn!
One day not too long ago while I was at my parents house my Mom yelled there was a hog in the yard. My parents live within the city limits so its kinda unusual. Now remember we are talkin bout a small town and not a big city so its only a bit unusual. I quickly decided I should go outside and catch it. Not that I've ever caught one before, I just figured this one would be the first. By the time I got my boots on and ran out the back door the hog was all the way across the grove. Way too far out of my range so I decided to give up.
Well, about a week later Mom went out to the barn to feed the dog. She came flyin back in the house and yelled that there was another hog and this time he was in the barn with the dog. I knew this was my chance to shine so I put my boots on and headed to the barn. When I entered the barn I couldn't believe what I seen. The dog was asleep next to his food dish and this giant hog was asleep right over by him. As soon as I seen this mammoth of a hog I decided he probably didn't want me to wake him up let alone catch him. He was much bigger than me, white with brown spots. He also had tusks that were sticking out about an inch and were broke off. I wasn't sure how he broke em but I knew I didn't want to find out. So I headed back for the house.
I told Mom I would need some help in apprehending the suspect and that me and Dad probably couldn't pull it off without a trip to the hospital. She agreed and decided to call one of our Cowboy type family friends. After a bit of laughter he told her he would be right over. He arrived with a cow trailer and backed it in the yard. I quickly showed him the hog and he said he had a plan and it wouldn't be a problem. He proceeded to get a rope and to boards that were about three feet tall with handle cut in them at the top. He handed me the rope and gave one of the boards to Dad. I basically understood what the rope was for but the boards had me a bit baffled. When I asked him what the boards were for he told me they were to hold in front of you in case the hog charge at ya. That way he wouldn't hit you and hurt ya. Then I asked him how come I didn't get a board and he replied "Your young enough to get out of the way!" Great plan!
The three of us entered the barn. When he seen the hog laying there he said it was definitely a big hog. He told me him and Dad would get his attention and all I had to do was slip the lasso end of the rope around the hogs neck. Ok, my next question was what should I expect the hog to do once I put it around its neck. He said "Well he's gonna try to get away, so don't let go!" Keeping to the unbelievably intricate plan, I eased up to the hog. He was laying on his side so I realized there was no way to put the rope all the way around his neck without him pickin his head up off the floor. I figured I should just touch him with the rope first to let him know I meant no harm. Little did I know that a gentle touch from a rope meant be afraid for your life in hog language. The dang hog lept to his feet faster within a split second. Somehow in all my steppin and fetchin scared panic I wound up with the dang rope around his neck. He hit the board Dad was holdin one time and almost knocked him off his feet. Before he managed to pull me out the barn our Cowboy friend grabbed that sucker by his back feet. The two of us pulled the giant from the barn and out to the trailer. This is where the fun began!
Well, about a week later Mom went out to the barn to feed the dog. She came flyin back in the house and yelled that there was another hog and this time he was in the barn with the dog. I knew this was my chance to shine so I put my boots on and headed to the barn. When I entered the barn I couldn't believe what I seen. The dog was asleep next to his food dish and this giant hog was asleep right over by him. As soon as I seen this mammoth of a hog I decided he probably didn't want me to wake him up let alone catch him. He was much bigger than me, white with brown spots. He also had tusks that were sticking out about an inch and were broke off. I wasn't sure how he broke em but I knew I didn't want to find out. So I headed back for the house.
I told Mom I would need some help in apprehending the suspect and that me and Dad probably couldn't pull it off without a trip to the hospital. She agreed and decided to call one of our Cowboy type family friends. After a bit of laughter he told her he would be right over. He arrived with a cow trailer and backed it in the yard. I quickly showed him the hog and he said he had a plan and it wouldn't be a problem. He proceeded to get a rope and to boards that were about three feet tall with handle cut in them at the top. He handed me the rope and gave one of the boards to Dad. I basically understood what the rope was for but the boards had me a bit baffled. When I asked him what the boards were for he told me they were to hold in front of you in case the hog charge at ya. That way he wouldn't hit you and hurt ya. Then I asked him how come I didn't get a board and he replied "Your young enough to get out of the way!" Great plan!
The three of us entered the barn. When he seen the hog laying there he said it was definitely a big hog. He told me him and Dad would get his attention and all I had to do was slip the lasso end of the rope around the hogs neck. Ok, my next question was what should I expect the hog to do once I put it around its neck. He said "Well he's gonna try to get away, so don't let go!" Keeping to the unbelievably intricate plan, I eased up to the hog. He was laying on his side so I realized there was no way to put the rope all the way around his neck without him pickin his head up off the floor. I figured I should just touch him with the rope first to let him know I meant no harm. Little did I know that a gentle touch from a rope meant be afraid for your life in hog language. The dang hog lept to his feet faster within a split second. Somehow in all my steppin and fetchin scared panic I wound up with the dang rope around his neck. He hit the board Dad was holdin one time and almost knocked him off his feet. Before he managed to pull me out the barn our Cowboy friend grabbed that sucker by his back feet. The two of us pulled the giant from the barn and out to the trailer. This is where the fun began!
When we stopped at the trailer the Cowboy guy told me to drop down on my knees on top of the hog and don't let him up. I know, I said the same thing "Excuse me, What?" Well he repeated his self and I decided to man up. When I put all my pressure on the hog he kept trying to get up. I told them that the hog was bigger than me and if he gets up I was gonna run like hell. At this time the Cowboy guy got out his trusty ole pocket knife and opened up a big blade. I said "Well hell, if your gonna kill him why didn't ya just do it in the barn?" He replied "I'm not gonna kill him, I'm just gonna cut off his manhood so hold him good!" Ok, wait, since when is cutting his manhood off better than just killin him? When he cut them the poor hog started yellin and kickin. Then once he cut them off the hog seemed OK again. There must be somethin about bein a Cowboy that makes ya think you should play with them after you cut them off. He held them up to me and asked me if I wanted them. "Um, that's a big no!" I replied. He laughed for a second and then said "lets put him in the trailer!" The hog seemed just fine in the trailer and was off to his brand new home. Needless to say I haven't decided to catch any other hogs after that one!!
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