Montana got sprayed by a skunk last week. We found a recipe to rid her of the odor and it worked on about 95% of the smell. Of course even 5% of a skunk's nasty devil juice is enough to keep her outside for the week so that's where she sits, outside. You've never seen a more attentive, plaintive looking hound in your life. She's got more patience than I do. I admit it, I'm bored.
My latest diversion is creating a mountain bike track in the green belt behind the house. Who cuts dead dusty grass and then shovels rocks for fun in the summer heat? I need a quarry. The DMV still hasnt' sent me the tags for my boat. I'm the dumbass who kicks himself everyday for mailing it into the massive Sacramento bureaucracy rather than braving the lines at a DMV but then again, standing in line at the DMV is about as fun as a rectal exam but at least I would have my tags by now and I could fight with my wife about something substantial like going Sturgeon fishing or taking the boat to a lake. There's no Salmon to chase nor Rockfish nor Abalone. But I know what it is: I've got my Deer Tags and I want to go scouting.
Sure my kids are a blast but I just get tired of "pretending" to be on Ax Men or Monster Quest. I mean, Tanner's all set to go-Camo overalls, boots, ammo bag, stick gun, etc. but he won't stop talking for five seconds! And his plans change by the minute. First he wants to be a scuba diver so I make him a tank out of a crystal geyser bottle and a garden hose. But wouldn't you know it, now he needs a trail cam to try and get photos of a chupacabra so he drags out the portable DVD player. Now that doesn't belong outside so I have to grab the real one for him and hope he doesn't dunk it in the pool. I used to think I would be one of those Dads who could say no to everything, and I still am to some extent, but I've also learned that just making him a damn scuba tank from a garden hose, baseball belt and plastic water jug is easier than convincing him that he doesn't need scuba gear for a 10" deep, blow-up backyard pool because you can't. The line between reality and pretend is thin indeed. I do enjoy going there for awhile but sometimes I just want to live in the real world without being attacked or on fire or playing super hero:)
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
If it be said that I only write of hunting and fishing, let it be said, for these are the fuel for my existence.
Another Memorial Day has passed and thus another storied Eagle Lake expedition. It's no longer a trip as the family has grown as have the families of all those who attend. No longer can two or three dudes pack into a truck and make the trip like a pack of lone wolves on an extended hunt. Nowadays the packing is a two week fiasco. "Hon, do we need to bring the "Pack N Play" for the little one?" "Of course". Along with bags of toys, changes of clothes and night time stories. Actually the kids ended up on the short end this year. I brought: three fishing poles, my dog, my rifle and enough ammo to defend Waco for a few days, my guitar and song book and my fishing backpack and fillet board. The kids didn't get: the quad, the bike and trike nor their mini "Lightning McQueen" fishing poles (I don't know what they did with them and they scare me when they start flailing a hookless weight around each other). All in all we actually packed suprising light what without having to camp. The cabin we rented was recently remodeled and besides having to have "Lynyrd Skynyrd" turn our hot water on after I found some wires loose in the hot water heater closet, it offered most of the comforts of home. Plus it had a nice mule deer buck mounted over the living room, various fishing books and an old fly rod on the wall for the perfect ambiance. Oh Yeah, I never touched my guitar nor fired a shot from my rifle-next time I'll have to throw Tanner's bike on top of the pile.The Rivalry is still alive and well however. Lately it's been Heyman & Pattyo vs. Nelson and the Rings on this trip and thus it was this time around. Saturday morning began dubiously. Heyman needed a jump so he drove me back to my truck where I could grab my booster box. Once he was charged, he sped off and left us outside the no wake zone with a clogged impeller. Peanuts boat has been plagued with problems and he had hoped a new engine rebuild would solve his worries once and for all. Unfortunately, we couldn't get on plane with Archie calling it correctly from the first failed-full-throttle, "It sounds like something is clogging the impeller" he stated matter of factly. Rather than miss the dawn bite making the repairs, we limped to the tules and wet our worms. Final score for the morning, Heyman 5, Nelson/Ring 3. Even though we came up short, Heyman didn't have a limit and the foreign object was successfully removed from the impeller.
Sunday morning we got the jump on Heyman and the rest of the Tule Belle Duck Club. We knew we were early when Shrimp Island "The Secret Spot" didn't light up like times square and we got a front row seat to the hottest trout fishing on the West Coast. Peanut had two in the box before we could see without a flashlight. As he was re-rigging, I watched his bobber dunk and took my turn on his second rod. If you snooze you lose and it was someone else's turn anyways:)
We had a limit by 6:45 am. We took a victory lap past the Heyman and basked in the full moon of a Pattyo "Bare Ass". Oh sweet victory is ours!
Monday morning was more of the same and we were back at the Cabin by 7 cleaning our fish and packing up. The old saying really is true: time flies when you're having fun. And so it was that we were headed home, smelling of trout and already making plans for next year.