Here Fishy, Fishy

The base here has three lakes; we’ve only been to the one, Bass Lake, because the other two are closed on a regular basis. I personally don’t have a problem with that—they’re closed because they’re situated near the firing range, and there’s been a whole bunch of Live-Fire Exercises lately. Keeping people away is probably a good thing.

Yesterday the Spouse Thingy and I went out to Bass Lake around noon to do a little fishing without having to worry about getting our heads blown off. When we got there the place was deserted, other than several ducks who seemed to be having a major argument over something—at the very least there was one really pissed off female letting her mate have it verbally. It was the feathered equivalent of some raging, PMS burdened, homicidal human female ripping into the Other Half for gawking and drooling over someone else. She was gunning for this poor guy with both barrels, chasing him from one side of the lake to the other, and eventually managed to get five or six others involved in the ducky little bitchfest.

I admit. I was amused.

About ten minutes after we got there two other guys showed up; they spent maybe twenty minutes on the dock and walked away with 3 or 4 nice looking bass—and neither of us had so much as a nibble. Spouse Thingy jammed his pole into a spot on the dock and wandered up towards the service building—he was just far enough away that me shouting to him would have done no good, when he pole started bouncing. He had one hell of a hit, but I couldn’t get to it fast enough. The bait was stripped. I popped a couple more salmon eggs on it and cast it back out, pretty much in the same spot where he’d had it.

I don’t think he believed me, when I told him he’d had a good bite… not until that pole was bouncing again 2 minutes later and he reeled in a nice looking rainbow trout. I switched bait and ten or fifteen minutes later had an even bigger trout. And an hour later another one.

Heh. I out-fished the Spouse Thingy. He caught first, but I caught biggest and most. Do you think he’ll admit that to his buddies? I didn’t think so…

It was really nice out there—more so because I haven’t been able to handle fishing the last few years. My back hasn’t been able to handle casting over and over (I prefer lure fishing) so I just didn’t go. The entire time we were in CA the last time I didn’t even bother getting a license because I knew I’d get out there and wind up having to quit within ten minutes. That wouldn’t exactly be fair to Spouse Thingy. I still can’t stand there and cast over and over, but I can sit there in lawn chair and do it. It’s a stinky thing, but it feels pretty damned liberating.

I still won’t eat the fish, though.
I don’t think I’ll ever be thatpain free.

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