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Monday, December 6, 2010

Trout, The Delight they Cause

Well, it is no secret I love to fish. I mean, what is a better thing to do than stand in the cold Nov. weather casting 60 feet of sinking line knowing that in this river there are large trout bent on eating things.


Ya gotta love it. 55 degrees is close to summer weather and there is not a single residue of snow to be seen. To top it off there are no other fishermen on this entire section of river. I stood there admiring my good fortune knowing full well even if I didn't catch a lousy thing the thrill of being in cold water accompanied only by a few Mallards, a spattering of massive shadows perusing the water and a pleasant natural surrounding of almost no industrial riff raff was a Wisconsin wet dream. Dennis was along but, while he is nothing to look at, he is not intrusive except that he insists on using "spinning" gear which in the world of real fishing("fly casting") he is a lower form.
I am an elitist. Tough shit dude! I know the pull of a fine trout on my 9 weight and the glory in which I can bask when taking a brown trout of some mass. The chicks are in awe. I am a chick magnate with all my manly gear and conquered prey. He is but a bait caster using "plastics" as noted in The Graduate. He is but a worm.

I love it. The moment of contact with this bruiser was magnificent as I stood my ground there in natures motherland on the Sheboygan River. I held as he moved into the backing and the reel screamed. I briefly went to one knee as I finally turned the massive fish. No sooner had he ripped the line out heading east, he turned as if to think going up stream might be a better option. I reeled in the straining line and stood the test as he went air born. The river shuttered with a resounding splash as he re-entered the fast water. The colors glistened and the sound of Beethoven's 9th ripped through my ears.

Victory was to be mine. Like a child, I grinned and looked around to feel the day and revel in the joys of Mother Nature---who probably didn't really give a damn. Dennis stood in hidden admiration as I netted the 8 Lb beauty.

I held the mighty fish in my hands and thanked Lake Michigan for growing such a fine specimen. I took him home, not to mount but to consume. Not my usual ploy but why not? I am a fisherman.

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