Fishing With the Girls

 About a month ago, I was getting desperate to go fishing. I tried to get several people to go with me down to Kepler Lake, near Palmer, but for one reason or another, it didn't work out, so I went by myself. I won't say that it was a mistake to do that, but I will mention that it was a real challenge. For one thing, the john boats, while large enough in length and width, don't have much depth to them. I guess because they are flat bottomed, kind of like me, they don't want the seats to be too high in the boat. As a result, unless you are young and limber or an athlete of some kind, they can be incredibly uncomfortable to sit in for any length of time.

They all come with oars, but for an additional $5.00 per hour,  you can rent an electric motor to push you around the lake. In retrospect, perhaps I should have just stuck with the oars, although that would have provided an additional challenge. As it was, I was sitting in the stern of the boat, facing the front, and having to reach my seventy three year old arm around the back to try to steer the boat.  Of course I had to twist my body into a pretzel like shape in order to do that. To add to the confusion, there were five forward speeds and three reverse speeds. I spent the first hour just trying to get the boat to go where I wanted it to. When I thought I was in neutral, I would look down and see the wake from the forward motion, so I would adjust the throttle handle some more and end up going too far and ending up in reverse. I was kind of like Yo-Yo man going back and forth in the middle of the lake. Meanwhile, I was watching other people who had mastered the throttle pulled up to spots where they were catching fish with obvious delight.

After hour two, I finally got close to some downed trees in the water near the beach where the stocked trout were hanging out. I even managed to catch a few of them before the wind blew me further into the trees. Branches were breaking off in the boat and I had to keep reeling in and putting the boat into reverse. There was a mushroom anchor in the stern, so I finally decided to toss it out. Unfortunately, there was more rope than I needed for the depth, so I was still blown into the sticks. With the anchor out, I put the boat into reverse and promptly wrapped the anchor line around the prop. You would think that I hadn't owned a boat for over forty years. I did manage to catch eight or ten little stocked trout, and had a good time, all things considered. However, in order to keep from further pain and discomfort, I sat in the stern of the boat facing the motor and ran the boat into the camp in reverse the entire way.

I'm not a quick learner, but I had a fairly good idea that I didn't want to rent the boat by myself again, so I convinced my youngest daughter, Autumn to go with me. She agreed and her older sister Liz wanted to come along, so I was on my second outing to Kepler Lake last Thursday. Of course the seats were still too short, even with two cushions to sit on, so my knees were almost up to my neck, but at least I didn't have to steer- that was Autumn's job. She suffered the same confusion I had experienced trying to get us from Point A to Point B. Of course when it's happening to someone else, it's kind of funny. We finally found a spot to fish and I dug out a jar of salmon eggs. I had used them last time with great success. I baited all three of us up with eggs from the jar I'd used before and we started fishing. Unfortunately, the fish weren't the least bit interested. After pulling in the line a handful of times and losing her bait, Liz said, "I smell dog crap!" If there is any manner of crap within a two mile radius, Liz will either smell it, step in it or somehow manage it get it somewhere on her clothes or body. She' like a crap magnet.

For whatever reason, my sense of smell is shot, which I was glad of in that particular case. She kept complaining and I explained that it couldn't be dog crap, we were well away from any dogs. Then Autumn started in. "Oh my God! I smell it too! That's gross!!" 

It dawned on me that there couldn't possibly be dog crap in the boat, or any other crap that I could discern, but possibly it was the older jar of fish eggs. I held it up to Liz and she confirmed that was the cause of the offensive smell. I tossed the eggs and opened a new jar, but still, the fish weren't interested. Fortunately I'd bought some nightcrawlers and put one on Liz's line. She no sooner threw it out than her bobber disappeared and she had a trout on. Then she caught another one. I was still trying to bait my own hook, but  I had to take off Liz's fish and bait Autumn's hook. For most of the next hour and a half, that's what I did. Of course Autumn was having a hard time fishing because the wind was blowing the boat all over the place. With two tackle boxes, three people, three rods, a back pack, an anchor, a five gallon bucket and a cooler all crammed into that tiny space, it was no wonder I almost knocked my tackle box over the side  and kicked the can of Vernors I was trying to drink. I had dirt from the worms on my hands and had eaten several bites of my peanut butter sandwich before I realized how scuzzy they were. When I was young, it wouldn't have bothered me so much, but as it was, I tossed the remainder of the sandwich overboard and hoped a huge trout didn't come up and eat it.

Of course all the trials and tribulations we endure on a daily basis, while mildly irritating at the time, make for the best and funniest memories at a later date. The bottom line was, we made it back to the launch site in three hours. Liz had caught four, I had caught four and Autumn had caught two, but would have had many more but every time a fish bit her line, she was messing with the motor and couldn't decide what the priority should be. We all had a good time. 

 Fortunately Liz didn't have to use the five gallon bucket. She did, however make a mad dash for the outhouse when we landed. Her shoulders were looking pretty crispy, which didn't seem to bother her. Autumn wore a black jacket and black pants out on the water, so though it was hot and sunny, she didn't complain. I never wear short sleeve shirts outside on sunny days because I'm tired of burning my skin until it looks like pork rinds.

Now we're planning on trying out Summit Lake up in Hatcher Pass tomorrow. When we were there in early June, the lake still had ice and snow on it. I'm hoping that by now it's fishable. No doubt there is a story to be told about how that's going to go.