Giant Bugle-mouthed Salmon Caught

It was one of those special early autumn days when a person needs to go to water. A light breeze out of the south-west, not prohibitive to an angler, a gentle nuisance maybe, kissed across Little Green Lake. An algae bloom had taken the lake with a vengeance so the water visibility was no more than a foot, and likely not that. While the air was fresh, the algae still alive and prolific, was still enjoying its own day in the sun. The cloudiness of water kept the game fish, as near as we could tell, tucked away in the depth waiting out the  miserable .turbidity.

The fish simply could not see our lures no matter how well they were presented. Jeff thought by making a great din of surface noise, he might attract a fat bass but while his lure rocketed through the soup like a torpedo from a U Boat, not a single fish of prey took a moments notice. Dennis chucked a an array of plastics, including the always popular Wonder Worm, but in a moment of honestness admitted he only had one strike that I suspect, in my always suspicious way, was a submerged log put there to encourage naive fisherman. It was a sad day.

In an act of desperation, I decided to put on a rather large spoon, a bait that a self-proclaimed sophisticated fly-fisherman like me commonly views in disdain. It was attached to my bait caster with the 25 pound test line in an anticipation of catching the one musky in the large, but pea-soupy, but still pleasant lake. Knowing Big Green Lake has Lake Trout, I pondered with my always active imagination, wondering if just maybe there were Lakers here. I casually chucked the quarter pound glimmering chunk of metal outward in all directions but soon became distraught as Ann payed me no attention----- I was fishless and thought inept.

All that could be done was to head to the dock some half mile off, all the while trolling my flashy deep-diving spoon. I leisurely fiddle-farted around taking in the bird life and marveling at the aesthetic vistas, but also day dreaming of the glory days catching Dolly Vardens in the deep arctic.

Then it happened! A strike of unimaginable proportions, a strike not unlike a Blue Marlin, a strike that instantly placed me, the gallant fisherman, into the realm of The Old Man and the Sea.  Mostly Ann would have said, "Ya, old man for sure, but the sea?" The rod was nearly ripped from my hands as the monstrous fish ran the line almost to the point of smoking the reel. I held as Ann claimed I had just hooked one of those logs. "No, no," I screamed. "This is a fish, Look at it driving the line, It thrashing and diving. This thing is for real". "It is a Snapping turtle she said. "No, no. This thing is a fish. Has to be a Musky or a huge Northern. What else would take a big obnoxious spoon?" I was beside myself and wanted so badly to see the mighty white whale, I was searching for an appropriate metaphor, grabbing another harpoon, yelling at the crew. "Hold fast you louts!" My first mate only grabbed the camera thinking she wanted to see the log I was about to boat. Finally, n a brief moment of comprehension she too realized this was the big one. "He's running under the boat. Cast the line over. Your pole is going to break. Give him line." she barked from the fore deck.

The fight was on. I looked for sharks not wanting to suffer the fate of the Old Man in the Cuban sea. I didn't want to just be left with the bloodied head of a prize. Finally, Ann was totally convinced as a huge froth of water erupted 15 feet off. The swirl moved the water like the outlet of the Wisconsin River power plant  dam. Then the tail broke the surface, the six inch across tail, the red colored tail of a Musky. This was the real deal, the prize, a massive fish, a once-in-a-life time monster. It ran the the reel numerous times some times pulling 150 feet of line. It could almost not be stopped for the shear power of the beast. On surfacing the next time I could see the fish was foul hooked in the tail of all places. That is when it rolled over and there it was the full view, the massive full view of the single biggest fish I have ever caught. The scales where the size of a fifty cents piece and the fish was a rich golden color.

I was a giant Bugle-Mouthed Salmon the like of which I have never seen. a near record breaker. In a moment I got out the never-before-used net and as I brought the fish alone side after the 20 minute fight it was netted. It had a mouth big enough to swallow a baseball and glistened in the evening sun radiating the vicious monster it was. As the other fishermen approached in disbelief (I had told them it was a forty pound Musky) I slowly hoisted the brute aloft wanting to gloat for I knew they were indeed fishless.  Ann snapped a few shots of me all full of myself. Seeing the fish was not half eaten by sharks, would not show well mounted, and certainly from my own experience, not taste well---even if Antony Bordaine would have tried.  it was returned to the sea.

In an after thought, Ann made note of a film she had seen called the Sent of a Women, then made comment on how I was now covered with the sent of a Carp. It appeared this was not going to play well for any of my future plans for romance. Ya, did I care? 30-40 pounds of Salmon and now I was a real man.

The Pope--What do we have Here

Every now and then somebody comes along that really gets my attention, not often, but here and there. He or she doesn't have to be a politician, and usually is not a religious person of the traditional bend, but this individual is possibly going to make a difference.

He even has the politicians, and maybe even Bill OReilly, thinking twice about some of the stupid positions they are taking---probably not. Was in Santorum who told the Pope to stick to religion and let the scientist do the science stiff? Turns out the Pope has a masters in engineering or something.while Ric S has a hold of a degree in stupidity.  In any case, it is good news the Pope is setting aside the nonsense about gays, about the churches unpleasant history of pillage, and most importantly taking potshots at unfettered capitalism. He thinks the average man is IMPORTANT. Imagine that. He thinks every individual deserves a chance and that the wealthy should not control every aspect of life on earth---even if the Catholic church has an unpleasant history of doing just that.

I think he is, like, so over the above approach and has even said there are many acceptable religions, and agnostic and atheists are just alright. The environment is part of God's creation and needs to be protected from the wrath of man---cool. None of the greed is good bullshit. 

Now if we can get by this one, which will be difficult because some folks still have the 13th century attitude that some infidels still need to be killed off. Oh shit. 

However, I still have one bone to pick and that is I would like to see the following go away and the fact that this shot was taken in Manila where the Catholic church still has its greatest sway gives me pause, It may be a ways off before he begins to talk about birth control and excessive population issues. Oh well!

Sustainable Options---Revolution Watch

While I really have little faith in Amurikn's ability to scale down to a sustainable living style, I occasionally run into concepts, or creations that seem to have value. For instance, the idea of not being able to go to a lake and take out my boat for an evening of fishing, or just paddling is discomforting. When I am told that the use of gasoline may one day be restricted due to cost or shortages, I find my casting arm twitching in frustration and almost anger. I mean, do they think that I will have to, like, walk or peddle my bike with the float tube in my cart? (which I did a few years ago)

Walking is becoming tiresome and not really possible because the doctors told me my ankles were "worn" out from too much "play" as a youth. Riding the bike is now frightening, at least until I get a  tricycle of some expense.  I was scolded by some friends, after being clocked at 38 miles per hour last year, that this was not wise and bordered on stupidity----imagine that?. That was an ah-ha moment in view of the fact that a good friend hit the Schwan's truck last year and broke his neck. While I know the coppers wanted to ticket him, the cyclist, for speeding, it was still a wake up call. It looks like the bike is now out as I am scared and close to 72.

Then it happened. A photo arrived from a friend cleanly demonstrating that there was an option. All I needed was a horse and buggy and  tailor. With this rig I would be back in the game in no time. I have a small shed in the back that may have, at one time, been a barn for a horse, so all I would need is a nice nag and a broken down buggy, Yes, I would have to have some hay but there is grass all over the place and no doubt I could use the animal to mow local lawns ---for a small fee. Plus, there would be an immediate supply of garden fertilizer.

No sooner had I realized the possibilities here when my brother Jeff introduced me to an electric lawn mower, a rider at that, made in the seventies that could mow the lawn as well, push snow and plow the garden. I can charge the batteries with the photo voltaic's free electricity and then live like a king. At first I was left in a dichotomy because the horse would also do these things but in addition take me and my boat to the lake. It was then I realized that brother Jeff sure as hell could probably gear up the mower to pull the boat. Wow, two options for a sustainability life style. I am more optimistic everyday. No fertilizer though.