A Perfectly Miserable Day

It’s Spring Break at our school this week.  So far it’s miserable weather.  It was a perfect time, however, for our dog Kora and I to head to the woods along moving water.  We hiked during an outright downpour through the woods until we met the river’s edge.  While doing so, we spooked out a barred owl from a low hanging tree limb just a mere 10 feet in front of us.  I hadn’t noticed him until he flew, as he must have held off for as long as possible to avoid flying in the rain.

I had thought of hiking into a different area, but the last time that I took Kora out she could hardly move for the next two days.  So this time I chose a shorter route that was still worth the effort.  We shared the food that I cooked over the small camp stove.  Typically I like to use a small open fire, but I wanted to go stealthy this time, plus everything in the woods is absolutely soaked right now.  Sledging in dry firewood seemed unnecessary, so I pulled out the little stove instead and it worked perfectly.

Kora’s tucked in beside me now on the quilted blanket I put down over the damp ground.  I pulled a corner of it around and on top of her because she was shaking after getting soaked.  She’s warming up now though, and actively watching and sniffing everything around us.  She’s my eyes while I journal.

CLICK BELOW FOR A VIDEO OF

ME JOURNALING AT THE RIVER'S EDGE:

Perhaps the soreness she had felt after last week’s hike was due to the terrain, and the fact that we haven’t been out for a while, although that’s never stopped her before - ever.  Perhaps it was because she’s getting a little older (she’s almost 10 years old), but she’s the picture of consistency when it comes to “getting out of Dodge” and going on an adventure.  Maybe it was due to the Lyme Disease she had as a puppy; now affecting her joints all of these years later.  I’m secretly hoping that this is not the cause, because otherwise, it could be like looking in a mirror.

I myself was just diagnosed last week with Lyme Disease.  Who knows when or where I got it.  The “how” comes from the deer tick, but I don’t really recall when I’ve had one on me; apparently I have though.  Kora had to have a series of treatments to deal with the effects of the disease.  I’m not sure what the ramifications of the disease will be for me.  It was only a week and a half ago when my wrist, ankles, knees, and shoulders began to ache and swell.  I went to the doctor a few days later for some blood work and now it’s a waiting game to see when I can get into a rheumatologist to figure it out.  No wonder it felt like I was slogging through mud when I had tried running two days in a row last weekend.  All I know at this point is that I, “didn’t get it recently”; which I’m taking to mean that I’ve apparently had it for a while.  These are some of the things I’m mulling around in my brain and thinking about while out in the woods today.

In the meantime, a mallard duck flew low along the river’s surface a while back and an eagle flew with the currents of air out over the opposite bank.  Two woods ducks cruised in squawking their “oo-week” call on the bend of the river just down from me.  I’m not sure where they went, but if they swam upstream next to Kora and me, they had no idea we were here hidden up on this bank.  The air is starting to get cooler as they predicted, and the breeze is picking up now that the rain has stopped.  It’s gearing up to reach 20+ miles per hour by this afternoon.  I rather liked the sound of the drops on the tarp I had strung up to protect us, but the wind traveling through the treetops is just as comforting.  Cardinals are calling from the large oaks around me while flickers and kingfishers announce their presence nearby.  Sandhill cranes rattle their sound as gray clouds race away to the east-northeast.  It’s what I guess Winnie The Pooh would call a “blustery day.”

I probably had some other chores to do this morning and I know I had some paperwork.  But I’ll vacuum, sweep, and get a couple loads of laundry in once I get home and dry; so that will at least be something.  I’ll need to get after those other things soon, but after the schedule I’ve had the last few months, I needed to get outside to reset.  Smelling damp, decaying leaves, seeing high moving water after almost 24 hours of heavy rain, and listening to the train engine roar of the wind through the rattling branches is well worth the cold beginning to sink into my hands and creep down through the layers into my inner core.

This outing will be the fuel to spur me forward as I finish out this school year.  A host of things have already been accomplished since last fall, but I still have some other things to rock out between now and this spring.

Virginia Bluebells Beginning To Emerge

A few weeks ago I had thought of canoeing and camping as I’ve done the last couple of years over Spring Break, but the weather this year would have been “tough sledding” - quite literally those first couple of days when we were covered with a layer of snow.  As it turned out, this outing is just what Kora and I needed.  Hiking in and setting up a base camp was doable and necessary for a day like today, and yet not so much work that when the time comes to pack it up that I can easily get it all down, onto my back, and trudge it in my pack to the old Silver Jeep.

To anyone else, today is a terrible day.  The skies are dark, the woods are drab of color, and the weather is gloomy.  It’s the kind of day that guarantees that you’ll have the forest and riverside all to yourself.  It’s what makes it a perfectly miserable day.

See you along The Way…

Kora - My Partner For Adventures!

Two For Two

It happened on two different days in two different months in two different types of weather.  Although the outcome of both were similar, the result of the outings were two different species of bass; so there was that.  I fished in two different bodies of water, using two different methods, creating two different memories.  So when you wind those facts up into a tight little ball, I guess you could say that I went, “Two For Two.”

The first outing was a brutally hot July summer day.  It was the kind of day that once the morning air burned off, seemed perfect to slide into a pair of old running shoes, slather down in sunscreen, throw some gear into a small backpack, and fish a local creek of moving water.

The cool water is moderately clear in that creek and the bed ranges from sand to gravel; with a few intermittent mucky spots where the water slows in swirling pools on its way to the larger Rock River.  It’s the kind of creek that keeps you guessing and honest in all of its various forms.

Within numerous bends that came in succession I caught a half dozen little small mouthed bass.  It was where the creek split around a pile of brush lodged atop a heap of gravel that I had my first fish of significant size.  It was also where I quietly crept over the gravel bar to the slower moving and deeper channel.  I cast my large spinner up into a nice looking pocket.   The pocket required some precision; one where I’d either come away with a snagged lure hooked in some hidden underwater structure, or lure a fish up from its perfect hiding spot.  Fortunately it was later.

The small mouthed bass jumped several times while racing to and fro within the confines of the channel.  I knelt down on the gravel bar where I had been standing and lifted out a chunky 14 ½” bass.  It was a mindful connection to hold onto such a beautifully marked fish.  I removed my backpack, lifted the fish in front of me, took several pictures, and released it back into the water.

On such a warm day, it was fun to wade and fish with minimal gear while pretending I was just a kid again.  I didn’t fish quite like this as a young boy, but it was definitely the same spirit of adventure, connection, and freedom that I had felt long ago that was spurring me on around each bend.

The next fish that made an impression on that hot day hit within a deep run on an outside bend.  I had cast up along a small point of rocky structure before having an immediate strike.  Right away I could feel the smallie’s strength and it took a little time to bring it up to my hand; aerial acrobatics resembling a big man’s belly flop competition rather than an olympic diving event!

A wide back of muscle from a lifetime spent in moving water graced my finger tips.  The smallie measured at a respectful 16” with camouflaged and mottled markings and I allowed myself a picture with the fish before easing it back into the creek.

My second outing was on a chilly October afternoon; 40 to 50 degrees cooler than that day in July.  I launched into a nearby lake in my trusty kayak.  The colors of the trees along the shoreline were picture perfect.  The leaves weren’t brilliant, but they weren’t drab either.  They were a blend of purple, orange, and yellow with the correct amount of blue sky and reflections to create an imprint on one’s memory.

Not far from the launch I worked a drop off.  Within the first 10 casts I had a solid hit that pulled drag while the fish dove deep.  I wrestled with my large hooped landing net that was weaved within the kayak’s bungee cords, and positioned myself to land the fish.  It’s quite a spectacle to balance a paddle in your lap, keep from being blown by the light wind into the shoreline, reel in a fish, all while trying to prepare a net!  Fortunately I lacked a crowd so any minor gaffe escaped a critical eye.

Once I brought the fish up to the starboard side of my kayak, I could see that it was a largemouth bass; with its distinct difference of light and dark markings on both sides of its lateral line.  However, it kept diving back into the murky depths and pulling drag with it, so it took a little bit of time to scoop it up into my net.  By then I was gently bumping against the rock lined shoreline.

Once I had the fish in my net, I gently removed the lure and held it up for a few pictures before sliding it into the water and watching it disappear below the shadow of my kayak.  It was my longest largemouth bass to date, measuring at 21 inches.  For that reason it was both rewarding and memorable.

After that experience I worked my way along the Northern shore just off the drop-off.  I caught a few smaller bass and a 17 ½” within this section before making my way into a smaller bay.  I fished that section of water hoping for a cruising bass or pike but was simply left to the Canadian geese and mallards who watched me with caution.

It was at that time that the sky began clouding over, the sun was tagging the horizon, and the temperature dropped even more.  I was beginning to become chilled, so I drifted down through the main channel of the lake towards the boat launch.  Doing so, I caught a nice 15” bass before losing another at the kayak and calling it a day; loading my gear back into my Jeep.

I had two different outings, on two different days, in two different environments, catching two different species of fish.  Although both adventures centered around water, which easily tugs at my soul, the different excursions melded into one as I went two for two.

See you along The Way…