Man vs. Nature

So last weekend, I mentioned I was going to be out of town. Well, I was. In fact, I was out of the state.

While I was out of state, I did some fishing. Mrs. Curmudgeon and Nephew's girlfriend tagged along to get a load of the scenery. We went to the same lakes I went to last year, but the exception this year was that I also did a bit of stream fishing on a little creek which ran fairly close the the lake.

Here's the story: Mrs. C and GF are wandering around the perimeter of the lake soaking up sunshine, conversing and exploring. They happened to look down the embankment at the nearby stream and saw about a half dozen trout lying in wait. Of course she started squealing and hailing me hence, and when I saw those rather large-ish (ranging about 16 to 20 inches) fish swimming in that hole, I just had to have me one. Two. Maybe all.

I start eyeballing the embankment I would have to skirt in order to get to the fish's secluded abode, and decide fuck it. I'm going down there. Not sure if I can get back out, but I'm going down. With the help of a fallen tree as a 12 inch handrail, another pine firmly rooted in this 45 degree embankment as a short rope, and the fishing gods who thought I needed the experience I made it down with nary a skuff on my Levis. Crouched down like the great white hunter I am, I approach the glory hole slinking ever so stealthily alongside the fallen pine between me and the water, the anticipation making my heart beat that much harder and my footsteps that much lighter.

Now for you non-fisherpersons out there, there are two reasons fish bite a hook. One reason of course, is that they are hungry. The other is that they're territorial. They don't want none of that flashy critter invading their turf. I would soon find out which category these fish fell in to. I had no worms for bait as some other people who were meeting us there weren't around. So I had been using a lure on the lake with better success than the other patrons, but with less success than what I had last year or any other year for that matter, on these same waters. But I thought I would give these fish an opportunity to grab that same lure.

So I, along with the swarm of mosquitoes who had decided to ride piggy-back, inched as close as possible without climbing over the log shield. I pulled several feet of line from the reel and swung the lure into the water. "ATTACK!!!" they screamed in unison! Well, not really, but since the water was crystal clear, I could see them all swim over and check out this strange creature which interrupted their vigil for wahtever food may be floating down the stream. Above the tranquil yet rather noisy splashing of creek flowing over the waterfall, I could almost hear them say to each other "Ahh. It's a fake!". Off they went. Back into position awaiting more lunch served up in the stream. So I drag the lure around a little. Well, that gets their attention to be sure! They're chasing it! Tapping it with their noses! Even nipping at it! But no, they're don't want to bite it. They want to scare it off.
I bring up the lure. I toss it back. Again they chase it. Again they nip and antagonize this intruder to their space. But alas, they will not bite. Bastards.
Mrs C and GF are watching from the top of the hill and I can see by the look in their eyes, they can't fathom why I haven't pulled any of these magnificent specimens out of the water yet.

After ten minutes or so of being told by these fish's actions they weren't interested, I decide the only way to their heart is to be something appetizing. I make the steep climb up the hill, and amidst the huffing and puffing I searched for grasshoppers in the weeds and dug for worms in the bank, but to no avail. So in the end I retrieve some other tricks which I had up the sleeve of my tackle box. These store-bought fishy teevee dinners in little glass jars will just have to do.

Back down the hill I go. It seems easier this time, and I slip right back into position amongst the willows and fallen pine. Well much to my chagrin, the fish are even less interested in this fake bait than they were in the lure. They don't even bother moving out of position to chase the intruder away unless I manage to tap them with the baited hook. Well enough of that then. I'm outta here. Back up the slope to the lake.
There's a thunderstorm on the way anyway, we need to get out of the mountains before Thor unleashes his fury on us mere mortals. But I got the last word in as I was walking away. "You assholes, that's it. I will be coming back one of these days and I will have worms. You will be mine!"