A Fishing Story (Or Fighting With the Weather Gods)

I haven't gone fishing much this year.  The weather's been gross or it's too cold or whatever.  Yesterday morning it looked perfect - mostly cloudy with occasional sun poking through the clouds and warm for February 24th - so off I went.

I got to the boat ramp where I like to fish about 9am.  On any given day, I am alone at any of my favorite spots.  There might be cars in the parking lot with boat trailers attached, but those guys are all out on the lake.  I see them from time to time as they pull out of the lake and more arrive to put in, but still pretty full of solitude.  Yesterday, the place was empty.  Yay.

So, I get my gear out of the car, head for a good spot, put a worm on the hook, and cast out toward what we call The Point - where the creek enters the river.  There's a little wind blowing toward the shore, so not optimum for a good long cast, which is what you really need to get past the rocks to deeper water where the fish are hanging out right now.  No big deal.  I simply moved over to The Ledges - rock formations along the river where the water is easily 8 feet deep right off the edges, dropping to 30 feet shortly thereafter.  The Ledges also have awesome places to sit, which works for me.

Anyway, I was sitting in my favorite spot, trying some different things to no avail when it starts to sprinkle.  No big deal   Like I said, it was pretty warm.  And I was dressed for a bit of sprinkle activity.  I looked up at the sky and it seemed like this drizzle activity might be short. 

Then it started to sprinkle more.  I debated packing up and heading for the car.  But it had been so long since I went fishing, and I REALLY needed to go fishing.  I arranged my stuff so it would get the minimum amount of wetness and stood up so I would present the smallest space for rain to hit.  Shortly thereafter, the drizzle stopped.  Cool. 

I wiped off the rock, put a towel down, and resumed my relaxed and casual enjoyment of fishing. 

Then it started to sprinkle again.  Eh, I was already a little wet, so I kept fishing. Then I heard a rush of sound from down the river.  I stared off in the distance and sure enough, it was raining really hard about a half mile south of me.  But the wind wasn't coming from that direction. 

Except the wind I was feeling was not coming from the same direction as the upper level wind moving the clouds.  In less than a minute, the rain started coming down in earnest.  I shrugged and angled myself so my jacket would deflect most of the rain from my legs. 

It started to rain a little harder, almost as if some demented god from my books was thoroughly against my fishing that day.  I looked up at the sky and said 'Oh, come ON, I'm just trying to fish here.'  No sooner were the words out of my mouth than those demented weather gods decided to show me who was in charge.  The sky opened up and dumped a bucket.  I quickly became drenched.

But I wasn't going to let the weather win.  Screw you, I'm fishing here.

Then the spot where I was sitting, on the downslope of a rock DUH, became a tiny creek, soaking the only dry spot left on my person - my butt - thoroughly.  

And I started laughing.  And laughing.  And laughing.  If there was anyone on or near the lake at that point, I must've sounded like a crazy woman.  Sitting on the river bank, rod in hand, in the rain.  Laughing like a maniac. 

Not long after, the rain let up.  Since I wasn't getting any bites, I picked up my stuff and moved to the creek side.  It started raining again over there, but I was already soaked, so it didn't matter.  Unfortunately, the fish weren't biting over there either.  Finally, I gave up and headed for home. 

As I was driving west to loop east and get back to the house, I saw copious amounts of blue sky off in the distance.  I could've turned back and resumed fishing.  Except now I was cold and wet and I had to use the bathroom.  Plus, once I'm on my way home, I might as well go home.  I wasn't home twenty minutes when the sky was totally clear of clouds and crap. 

I could've gone back out, but the urge was lost.  And the fish weren't biting anyway.  Better luck next time.  When it's warmer. And a little drier.  ;o)