Hot Night Of Fishing

On the hottest day of the year, nothing sounded better than to be wet-wading for smallies in one of the many local streams in the area. I chose to fish the South Branch of the Zumbro River which runs through Oxbow Park just north of Byron. I hit the water by 6 p.m. when the sun was down far enough to create some shade behind the trees that edged the stream. I started fishing a shallow pool using a 1/16 oz jig and my favorite plastic, the reaper. After just a few casts I picked up my first smallie. An eight incher that shook off just as I pulled his head out of the water. From that point I began my trek up stream.Since I had the early success with the jig and reaper combo I had decided to stay with that until I lost my third jig to rock tangles and no more fish to show for my efforts. I had brought along three different Rapala minnows as an alternative lure. I had never caught a bronzeback using stick baits before, but I knew a couple of people that swore by them. Since these were shallow diving floaters I thought they would be the perfect change from the snag happy jigs.As with my earlier start with the jig, it didn’t take long to connect with my first Rapala smallmouth. He was about 10 inches and scrappy. A good start for my Rapala run I thought. I made a few more casts into the riffles before I started walking a stretch of quiet water which is usually barren of fish. My intended goal was a pool just above small rapids about a quarter mile upstream. From there I would turn around and make my way back to the car.As I mentioned earlier, because of the high sun I stayed tucked in tight to the shaded edge and alternately casting across the stream or straight up stream within the shaded area. It was a cast into the shadows that produced my next catch. Just after the lure hit the water and I began to reel in the slack I felt this weight pull against the line. I started to reel in faster and made a quick set of the hook but I must have pulled the lure out of the bronzies mouth. Thinking I had just missed a heavy fish I continued my retrieve when I felt the weight once again on the line. This time I made a better hook set and the fun was on! Fighting against my light action rod and 6 lb test line this pig of a fish first took off for the middle of the stream. Realizing that he couldn’t get there he circled around and made a swirl on top of the water showing me his muscular back. Next he decided to make a run down stream. Not wanting to have him break me off I started to back reel some line while he worked to gain release. I didn’t want to play him too long so I worked him over to where I could lip him, get a measurement and let him go. Having not landed a fish with a stick bait loaded with hooks in his mouth, I mentally reminded myself to be very careful of the hooks. I wasn’t positive, but relatively certain that I had previously pinched all the barbs on the hooks being I am strictly a catch and release guy. It was a good thing too. With one shake of his tail, Mr Smallie managed to “slide” one hook along the side of my thumbnail between the nail and the skin about an 1/8 of an inch deep. Now what was I to do? My good hand was now holding my largest smallmouth bass ever, (about 19 inches), while being attached to the very same stick bait as the fish. The first thing I managed to do was cut the line above the bait. There really was no sense in having this bait pulled from both ends while I attempted my own quick release. Next I managed to release the bass from the bait, but still holding on to him with my left hand while I tried to figure some way to measure his length. I had managed to come fishing without suntan lotion, bug repellent and a tape measurer. I’m guessing the heat of the day must have bake something important in my head but I’ll be darned if I can figure out what it might be.Anyway, I ended up holding the fish up against the bottom of my short pants and making a visual mark for later measurement. Once that was done there was nothing left to do but let my fish go. I would have given him a kiss too but as I mentioned, I was not thinking clearly last night. Now, what to do about this Rapala that was stuck to my thumb? First I grabbed my hemostat out of my wading pack and clamped it to the hook so that I had more leverage (and some distance from the rest of the hooks). I made a couple of vain attempts to pull the hook straight up. Next was to angle it or twist it. With the hook plainly still in my thumb I began to wonder about the process of wading back to the car and driving until I found someone that could help me. This was a very unappealing idea as there was still plenty of good fishing light left in the sky. Taking another crack at self-help, I grasped the hemostat and managed to “slide” the hook out along the thumbnail just as it had gone in. Excellent Dude! Upon determining that there was no severe blood loss in progress, I rinsed my thumb in the stream, retied my lure and headed on toward my pre-determined goal.My fourth and last bass came at the eddy of the small rapids I had trekked to. It was the hardest hitting fish of the four. He really caught me by surprised as he must have swooped in from the side. As happens so often, the hardest hit came from the smallest fish of the day, a six inch smallie.I made a few more casts on my way back to the car, but I knew that I was done for this day. I had hooked up with the biggest smallmouth bass of my life and I was so thankful that most people just don’t get out and wade the local streams. During the evening of the hottest day so far this year I was by myself enjoying the cool water, the wide variety of birds and of course some very exciting fishing.

PARTY NIGHT - A Short Story

“Why are you going to Davy’s house first? I told you to pick me up at seven so that we could be over at Jen’s party by eight.”

She listened to some lame explanation about Dave needing a ride home.

“But that’s way out of your way! It’s going to take you at least an hour just to get back here again.”

Bridget never did seem to think things through before she took off on some hair-brained mission. Davy wasn’t even Bridget’s boyfriend. Just some guy whose locker was four down from Bridget’s. Apparently Bridget and Davy were also in the same science class and often did projects together. Bridget was explaining something about how Davy had been helping her with some math homework and he had missed his ride with his buddies.

Bridget was trying to apologize and explain why she would be even later. She hadn’t had a chance to get home and shower yet let alone get something to eat. Joni just looked at her cell phone in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me”, exclaimed Joni. “This is the first big party of the school year and you’re telling me that we are going to be late because you’re doing some good deed for a study buddy?”

Joni rolled her eyes as Bridget tried to apologize yet again. Joni could hear Davy in the background saying something about being sorry for causing so much trouble.

“Well, just when do you think you will be getting here?”

Bridget started running through the list of things she needed to do and places she needed to stop at before she could pick up Joni. In the background Joni heard Davy again. This time he was louder, more direct. Something about slowing down.

“You don’t have to do all of that stuff tonight Bridge!” Joni practically screamed into the phone. Joni’s mom stopped at her bedroom door with her hands full of laundry to see what all the drama was about.

A strange sound on the phone caught Joni’s attention and she cocked her head as if to improve the reception. She thought she heard the sound of tires screeching, but then there was a definite scream and thud as if the cell phone had been dropped.

“Bridget? What’s going on?”

Now the sounds seemed more muffled but it was definitely a metal on metal sound. There was another scream but Joni couldn’t be certain if it came from Bridget or Davy.

“Bridget! What’s happening? What’s going on?”

Now there was a very faint sound of traffic in the background and a crackling noise that Joni couldn’t place.

“Bridget! Bridget!”

Joni pushed her cell phone closer to her ear in an attempt to capture the sounds. There was that crackling and hissing sound that seemed closest while further away there seemed to be voice but Joni couldn’t make anything out clearly.

Suddenly there was sound that Joni had only heard on TV before. It sounded like an explosion of some kind, but this was Bridget’s phone, not the television. Before Joni could begin to process her thoughts there was a terrible scream that reached through the phone and seared through Joni’s mind and reached to the very marrow of her being. Then the phone went dead.

Joni looked to her mother, her eyes wide with fear. “Oh my God, Bridget’s phone just died.”