It’s been a while so I decided to share another story…….see, I don’t just wait for bass pro shop gift cards!!!!!! Anyway, here it goes:
When nature calls. The part of fishing that no one likes to talk about. I’m not talking about little nature. I am talking bout big nature. The kind of nature that seems to happen when you couldn’t be farther from shore. I think there is a built in switch fisherman have that triggers sudden and violent pains during the first hour or two of a fishing trip. I remember one of these episodes not long ago. We had barely got started and all of sudden some invisible being kicked me in the gut. I uttered those words shared by fisherman and bank robbers alike….”let’s hit the bank”. As I looked across the horizon from a stooped position, I could see I was probably a few hundred yards short of keeping all the clothes I came with that morning. We steamed ahead and I made a cat-like leap only a desperate man with my body shape could make. After remaining still for a few seconds, to make sure I wasn’t done before I even started, I headed off into the thorny under-brush. I usually like to be selective about the area I am about to destroy for the next three years but time was not my friend.
With my back against a tree straining to hold me upright, I saw colorful stars and made more noise than marching band on New Years Day. Just as fast as it started, it was over…..or was it…….I was dangerously optimistic. After another 20 minutes of sweatin’ to the oldies, I grabbed for the greenest leaves in my limited perimeter I could find. Unfortunately for me, the spot I chose was apparently very good fern land. We usually carry a little toilet paper for just such an occasion, but it seems I was in too much of a hurry. Anyway, after making the situation much worse than it was, I started to notice some disturbed dirt around the perimeter of the newly scorched earth. Great, I thought, Chiggers. I moved away slowly. One chigger bite on the bulls-eye and you will spend the rest of your life trying to kill every Chigger in your state, cause that’s one itch you can’t scratch. I made it back to the boat with one less sock and a much better outlook on the rest of the day. We caught a lot of fish that day and in between bites, while enjoying my 7th can of Vienna Sausages, I began to wonder what causes these outbreaks. The back side of fishing is not as fun as all the other sides, but it is inevitable. Be careful out there.
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