Disclaimer: It has been a long, long time since I filed a fishing report. I'm a bit rusty.
I stayed up really late on Sunday night after the Bills game. I wasn't so excited with the big win that I couldn't sleep. It was a documentary on Ronald Reagan that held my interest until 5am. My phone rang twice at 11am on Monday which woke me abruptly from my short slumber.
Jojo and I had made plans last week to fish in the late afternoon until after dark on Columbus Day when Joe was finished working. According to his employer, he wasn't scheduled to work. When Joe discovered this he was of course really excited and amazingly enough he waited until 11am to call me.
Groggily I returned his calls. When he said he was on his way to my house I panicked a bit. I wasn't packed to fish by a long shot. I haven't wetted a line since Father's Day and I procrastinated in preparation Sunday. Slapping together a 3730 box of lures was easy. Two Believers, a Toothy, a gooey plastic thing, two tubes and a jerkbait will cover just about any trip. Tracking down all the bits and bobs needed for a fishing trip proved more difficult.
Here's a brief conversation I had with myself as the Jojo arrival clock was winding down to zero: I've done this before, lots of times before, but what do I need to fish? Think, moron. Think. Rods and reels. Check. Replacement hooks (probably not, but we might get lucky.) Pliers. Scissors. Leaders. Check, check, check and check. C'mon what else? There's important stuff I'm forgetting... Uh.... Oh (expletive deleted) I told Joe I'd make lunch. Damn it. I probably have everything. Make lunch.
I love ham sandwiches. When Claudette's catering was still in operation Joe made the best damn ham (hey, that rhymes) sandwiches ever. So there was a bit of pressure on me to reciprocate. The key to a great ham sandwich is simple: Purchase good ham. Sahlen's smokehouse is what Joe always used so that's what I went with. The sandwiches were great.
My dogs went crazy as I was bringing my fishing equipment downstairs from my office slash tackle room. He's here. I still wasn't dressed so after inviting Joe inside I asked him about the weather. "It's hot," said Joe with an emphasis on hot. Oh, great. Let me fire up my sarcasm machine.... I just love the heat, but at least I didn't have to pack any clothes.
After a few more necessaries, I was ready to go. On the 290 I remembered those last little key fishing items I had forgotten. My prescription sunglasses were sitting next to my door and the sun screen was in the cupboard. Wonderful.
How about some fishing writing? Why not?
We started drifting directly in front of Sheridan like Joe does. We drifted and drifted. Joe jigged and I drop shot. Not for bass, for musky. I was that tired and hot and squinty, for lack of a better term.
When we reached the Launch Club I removed my drop shot rig and tied on a casting leader. Boy is it hot. When we drifted to the second canal Joe's phone rang. It was his lovely sister. (Jenny Wilczewski might be nicest person on the planet, and I say that without even a sniff of exaggeration. She is wonderful times one million.)
As Joe listened to his sister his facial expressions changed from giddy kid going fishing to serious Joe. "Change of plans," he told me while ending his call. Joe's brothers had some truck trouble in the Southtowns and they needed his help.
I hate to admit this but I was kind of excited about getting off the water. Heat and I do not agree on anything whatsoever other than how I like my chicken wings prepared.
The plan was for Joe to drop me and his boat off at my house, head down south, attach the trailer his brothers were towing, tow the trailer to their family's cabin, detach the trailer, play with their new puppies (PUPPIES!!!! (There is nothing better than puppies and I'll smack anyone who says differently. (Not really, but PUPPIES!!!!))), where was I? Oh, yeah. leave the cabin, grab the boat and return to the river. And he did just that. I took a wonderful nap while he drove all over hell's half acre.
Around 8 o'clock we pulled into Sheridan. Tommy Reinhardt was there and Carl was on his way. We chewed the fat with Tommy and tried to pump each other up to catch a musky. After some noise we went fishing, again.
It was glorious out. There was a slight south breeze. The air temperature was perfect. The company was perfect. The weeds weren't too bad. The only boats out were musky anglers. Everything was perfect except for the lack of muskies. Tommy quit just after Joe and I did at midnight. Maybe Carl caught something. Great report, huh? Did anyone make it to the end?
I was going to ask if you remembered your sunglasses for the second part of your trip but then realized 8pm is after dark now! Glad you were able to get out.
I managed to catch a low 30"s fish just before 1:00. Stayed until 1:30 and called it. It certainly was a good night weather and weedwise. No other action. Guess while I'm signed in I'll report that I caught a 48" last Tuesday which took the sting out of missing the meeting. No picture since there were no other boats around so I practiced recording the measurement. I have no video skills like others so I didn't post it here, but it is on my Facebook page..