It’s a foggy morning and I mean foggy……( these Texans don’t fool around) here at Choke Canyon state park. I road the bike over to the boat launch and the wailing of Sandy Denny’s rendition of Dylan’s Knocking on Heavens Door on the shuffle……for you youngins a shuffle is kinda like a reel to reel …..only portable. Sandy’s singing fit perfectly with the fog and the thick humid air, but Clapton’s Layla provided a better vibe to the ride,even though it’s about stealing your bros girl…..details ….pesky details
I got back to the campground in time to watch a scenario that every couple who are not professional truck drivers have endured…..the “ahh crap we have to back into a spot that is not the size of an abandoned Walmart parking lot”. They started off as the loving couple of 33 years who raised 2.3 kids behind the white picket fence in a white clapboard home……and the backing up was very loving too! For about 27 seconds……I craned my neck with my faced pressed against our side window trying to see what caused the conversation to go from ” looking good honey ” and “crank it a little more to the left sweetheart ” to ” the other LEFT!!!!!! ” to” MY LEFT OR YOUR LEFT ASSHOLE” to ” THE TREE….THE TREE….CANT YOU SEE THE Fing Treeeeee!!! I have watched enough NFL coaches to read lips and he was not saying ” I love you too honey “. ……….I could see the wife step out of the side view mirrors prying eye and behind the trailer and do a MAGNIFICENT DOUBLE BIRD!!
After spitting out my coffee I quickly look to see what Ward Cleaver was up to, he was blocked from view but I’ll bet you $10 it was this:
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* photo courtesy of Ron Jeremy
The funny and the good thing is all couples seem to survive this part of RVing that makes you both crazy for at least a few minutes….I guess you could think of it as the RV worlds way of creating………quite time………I know there ain’t a lot of conversation at our camp afterwards .
The trees around here have a mind of their own.
And these are everywhere!!
The comedian Brian Regan does a skit about walking into spider webs……..I’m that guy….I was fishing the boat dock and walked into a huge web…….well……at least one strand….I stumbled around,flailing away, teetered on the edge….almost falling in the lake which would have been far more embarrassing than my little “salsa” move down the dock……the “move”,,,,, ,that was now causing a few snickers from the audience on the opposite bank , an audience that I had not noticed until now……being a doofus is painful at times. Shortly after my little strut down the runway two fellas pulled up to trailer there boat after a morning of fishing…these were the first less than friendly Texans I’d met, they kinda grumbled/ muttered when I asked “how’s it going”…..perhaps they didn’t catch anything or maybe they were jealous of my expertly placed casts….one after another my casts landed……..on the edge of the reeds….right were the lunkers hung out!! As they cranked the boat up the trailer,I walked down the dock to retrieve one of my now “almost famous “casts that was hung up on a reed……my buddy says “if your not getting hung up,you’re not casting where the bass are”……….I looked down, unhooked my topwater plug…..and made a mental note that bass most likely did not hang out in 3/4 of an inch of water………the area I’d been deftly casting into for 20 minutes was 3/4 of an inch deep!! NICE!!! I stole a glance at the boat trailer dudes and felt their distain…..as I gathered up my gear and trekked up the ramp…I felt half a dozen sets of eyes…….”eyeballing” me……was it my arachnophobia induced rumba down the dock? My casting to an area tooooo shallow for water spiders to even hang out?………..At the top of the ramp I turned to regard the lake a final time, it was then I noticed a minor detail I missed in my excitement to wet a line…….the 4 foot by 6 foot sign…..proclaiming….
“ABSOLUTELY NO FISHING FROM THE DOCK “
In an effort to conceal my identity I walked towards the parking lot,abandoning my bike and Wyoming Cowboys sweatshirt which I had purposely “displayed ” across the handle bars……perhaps everyone would think I was with the Winnebago with Maine plates……..I’ll come get the bike…..after dark…..after…I rub mud on my truck license plates
Our traveling companions and Karen as well….wondered why I insisted on a zero dark thirty departure to a Garner State Park……”you know….traffic can be tough…..and ..ya know…we wanna get there early…for a good spot”………but mainly before any of our fellow campers awoke……..and whispered ” there’s that dolt from Maine…..or was it Wyoming? ??? He marched right passed the Absolutely No Fishing Sign…….who does he think he is? Dick Cheney?”
We arrived at Garner SP and Maria who check us into some great spots on the river, we had water only sites but we were in “save some money mode” and $12 a night was the way to do it……..well , we could save money if I wasn’t buying every sticker for my cooler from every town and SP we stayed in for $4.50 a throw, and oysters,and rum…and…
Maria was a self proclaimed aficionado of all things fishing,so Larry and I beat feet back to the Ranger Station the next day to get the true skinny from a local fly fishing expert. We entered the station and were greeted by Maria’s smiling face…….or was she smiling at Larry? Maria had taken a shine to Larry yesterday………of course Larry had laid it on with a grain shovel when we checked in. It reminded me of my youth……watching the “players”….my friends who had the “gift” of BS…….. I would listen to them blow smoke up some gals dress and think ” you’re really gonna buy the load of fertilizer girl?” I guess we all like flattery…and attention……and Larry was/is an expert….I suppose I’m a bit jealous
As Larry and Maria cooed , giggle and engaged in high school banter , I day dreamed about big fish on a fly rod!! ……. I snapped to as I heard Maria announce ” Guess how many fish I caught on my best day fishin?” Maria paused for dramatic effect…and then proclaimed ” 283! I told my husband I was ready to go home cause my arm was sore from catching sooo many fish” Larry’s eyes rolled in his noggin like
I did a quick math problem in my head and arrived at a fish every 1.7 minutes for 8 straight hours…..my bull shit alarm echoed in my head as Larry asked what kinda flys do you use in this river?
“Flies?? Flies?? I don’t fly fish honey…..proclaimed Maria
Huh?
Maria looked around the deserted station before offering in a hushed tone
“Corn”
“Corn works best sugar britches” Sugar britches? Who the hell talks that way? Maria apparently.
“So Maria……..the trout only eat corn? Bass? Corn also? Bluegill? Corn as well
We half heartedly thanked Maria and slinked back to the Jeep……. ” how the hell do you keep corn on during a backcast “? A question for the ages
In search of supplies the next day we entered the feed store and noticed deer corn spilled near the display for ….feeders……down south ,they feed the deer….then when the deer get comfortable with the free lunch….and waltz into the clearing with the feeder that whirlybirds the corn out like “pez” dispenser on steroids….. you BLAST em!! Seems a bit one sided to me, but what do I know ,I’m not a hunter.
Maria said corn corn and more corn…….if it’s corns what they want….corns what they’ll get….behold…
We calls it……DCP…..Deer Corn Pattern !
drill a 3/32 hole in the corn…..hook….super glue…and you are in business!
I beat the river into a froth and watched the minnows peck at the DCP in the gin clear water on every cast…….I could see the bass or trout….some kind of bigger fish…ignore every presentation…..BASTARDS!
I didn’t catch any fish….but I was comforted in the knowledge that I was not” caught”
using a DCP ..maybe I needed the blue colored corn like you see at halloween??
* aka Jeremy W.
Round the bend 