The 27th of the third

WARNING

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It's called Copyright infringement.

http://fineartamerica.com/pinterest-enables-copyright-theft-on-a-global-scale.html

The 26th of my 875th month

The Pike Place Roast burbles away in a pot in an otherwise very quiet household at five AM on a Monday morning.  Why is it that the night before the body says "Get me flat, quiet and asleep or I will not even respond to an Ambien?  You know you're tired and only about five pages of that novel away from blessed sleep.  Then "BOOM" at four thirty you're wide awake for no explainable reason.

  Excuse my while I pour the first cup.  The burbling is done.

I would seem that after 875 months I would have had some things figured out and would not need these nocturnal "What if sessions" with myself.  It's amazing for a guy to remember with absolute clarity the details of what should have been done (and maybe wasn't) about a situation 397 months ago, but not have a clue where the reading glasses are presently hiding.  And they do hide.

The stark realization is that the boat has left port and the only thing one can do is wait.  Photos have for the most part been taken, although there are probably a few thousand still out there waiting for me.  Bills pile up as a fixed income gets more and more fixed and the inflation bugs grow fatter with every passing of a new bill in congress.  Self serving power builders continue to suck the vibrancy out of a once great economy in efforts to change an already proven system.  For what end is the consecration of their own self importance and the deminishment or ours.

In Cory Ford's "Road to Tinkhamtown" he speaks of his own demise, doing what he was put on earth to do, and how he expected to handle the last chapter.  It was his peace.  It's not a dark piece, but a peaceful piece which needs to be read slowly whilst sitting on a stump in the big woods or on the end of a dock somewhere listening to the lap of the waves as the only accompaniment.

Or maybe even at five AM in the morning when the ambien has worn off.  And who else could so butcher the English language as to use some form of the word "Peace" four times in one sentence. 

Usually, when I wake up in the middle of the night worrying about something, over which I probably have no influence whatsoever, I go to the big lake and relive some fishing experience.  That generally gets me back to a least an hour or two of fitful sleep.  Not today!  Evidently.

If I simply set my mind's eye to the water at the edge of the dock from which I depart and cast thoughtful eye to the lure or fly of my choosing, I start to drift.  The water, at the edge, is the color of a short glass of a light fine scotch whiskey.  Clear with a little tint of taste.  And cold.  The sky is overcast at this hour and a dark fly like a red grey ghost is chosen.

Fly lines are usually of a color which can be seen by the angler.  They could be yellow, green, or even orange.  At any rate the dropping of a fly at the side of a boat departing the dock and the extension of a fly line through ever darkening water lends exquisite anticipation.  The whole connection is made visible from fly through leader to the line.  The water moves from the light scotch to a fuller Bourbon  born of age old oak barrels.  Many a land lock salmon has come to feed in such back of the bar shades.  Finally, the India ink of the depths take over and the spell is broken only by the "Put put" of the small outboard. 

 An expanding lake lies before me with more exploration to be done.  And so another day begins here in Shangra La south.

23rd day of the third.

Looks like the earliest "Ice Out" ever!

The 22nd of the 3rd

So much for fish that glow in the dark.  We decided to shift gears yesterday and went looking for strip bass on the Congaree River rather than float amongst nuclear fear.

As you can see it was an absolutely spectacular day.  Normally at this time of year I am looking forward to overcast, rainy, snowy, just above freezing weather on the big lake in New Hampshire.  But this is just bliss. 

These are Chesapeake bay ocean run strip bass.  We were looking for the landlocked kind that make a run up the Congaree from the Santee river system here in South Carolina.  Well, it was a beautiful day but the history channel is not going to do a "Prepper" show on how we catch fish to feed ourselves.

It is spring down here, and the turkeys are in full mating mode.  We jumped on male of the sand bar pictured above and he flew across the river right in front of us, landing in a tree on the shoreline.

The photo is back lit and not very detailed, but you can see the beard coming out of his chest indicating a male bird.  Just a pretty great thing to see.

My host for the day is Phillip, my next door neighbor.  He is kind enough to take me out fishin a few times a year and we do put in the time.  One of these days we're going to catch something.

The 21st of the third.

Still some ice lingering on the big lake.  Weather here is in the 80's again today.

I will be going out to fish Lake Monticello here in South Carolina today.  There is a nuclear energy plant on the shores of that body of water, so must be careful of green fish that glow in the dark.

Certainly hope I was just kidding, but hope to see some of these large mouth bass looking for an education is the attractiveness of artificial baits. 

20th of the Third

Looks like ice out tomorrow?

The day after St. Patty's

We will be in the mid 80's here on the south side of the sun for the next three days, and it will get to the low seventies in Wolfeboro, NH today.  Can anyone say ...............

ICE OUT!

They say that the water temperature is 39, and we all know that the ice in our adult beverages will melt at that level quicker than a cube in the oven.  In the case of the big lake (Winnepasaukee)....that's a good thing.

This is a web cam from this morning at the "Weirs", which is the northern end of the lake.  Won't be long.   Ice out will happen all at once.  The lake ice melts, fills with air holes which in turn fill with water making it heavier than water and Wooooooooooops, the whole mess sinks.  That's ice out.  It will probably go this next week.

Sinking ice pushes the warmer water up from below and the fish life follows the warmer water to the surface........That's when we want to be fishing there.

  Which of course is the purpose of this blog today.  Just commemorating the best fishing trip in history.  Same guys, same lake, same spot and about the same time for 42 years.

  Our last year of that trip was 2010.  Our first was somewhere around 1968 and one or all of us made it every year.

After a long winter (Which this past was not), the lake, in the above state, gets our piscatorial juices flowing and you just gotta be there.

There may still be some snow in the "Big woods", but the lake is ready to go.

This is one of the rainbow trout that took part in one of our over 40 seasons of chasing ice out.

And the really scary thing about that place and that trip is that we, in our little cabal, are ALL still alive. 

Now, here's your homework assignment.  If you go back over the years I have published this blog, you will find the whole story of this trip.  But ya gotta work for it.  Have fun and tight lines.