Thursday, November 13, 2008

The Fish That Sunk Me

Hello faithful readers!
Things to this point have been kind of quiet- Hence, the lack of posts! But, no fear- I have a story for you!

"The fish that didn't get away"

One of the local lakes by us was drained this summer. There was an invasive weed problem that they are trying to get under control. Their thinking was to remove the fish (it was quite a productive fishing lake), drain the lake, let it freeze, refill it, restock it.

My husband and I have been watching this lake disappear all summer long. Even with the majority of the lake drained and with only a few remaining "pot holes" we still continued to fish it. The lake bottom is nothing but boot sucking mud. You can only get so close to the water before you sink to your knees in the thick oozing mud. So, we would stand on a misc piece of wood: log, or plywood left by other fisherman to try and get as close as we could to the water's edge and launch our bait 20+ feet to the water.

You wouldn't believe the fish that were still in there! We started out by catching blue gills hand over fist. Every cast produced a fish. We didn't keep any (too small to bother with) but it sure was a fun time! Then I switched baits and tried using a spoon bait. On my second cast I landed a (roughly) 30" Northern Pike! This particular lake didn't have a size restriction so that bad boy was fair game! What a leaper he was! It was an impressive fight! I kept reeling, and reeling....Until... (isn't it ALWAYS something???) it ran out of water and reached the edge of the mucky lake bottom. There it sat, beached, 20ft away from me... There wasn't anything I could do- The mud was to deep, thick, squishy, GROSS! I tried to drag it carefully on the line through the mud but it didn't drag, it only buried itself. Then, "tink!" The lure came flying out of its mouth and back at me. There sat my precious fish, right on the water's edge... There I helplessly sat and watched it. And then it made one good "flop" and back to freedom in the water it went. I could have cried!!!! I jumped up and down on my little 12" square piece of wood saying all kinds of choice words to my husband.

My impressive fish inspired him to try fishing for something bigger than we were used to catching. After around 15 minutes of nothing, we decided to take a chance and try the other end of the lake. No small feat because we had to walk as far away from the sucking mud as we could so we didn't get stuck.

On our journey, I of course walked too close and got stuck. I was soo stuck I had to take my knee high rubber boot off, balance carefully and try to pull the boot out. It wasn't working. My husband had to come dig it out for me!

Within 5 minutes of fishing at our final destination my husband landed an enormous large mouth bass! I was so happy for him!! It was great to watch until.... The same thing happened: reel in fish, fish ran out of "lake", stuck in mud, 20ft away. This time, I thought I was seasoned enough to help him- I tried to help him pull the line carefully and drag it through the mud back to us. No luck! This time the line broke! There sat his prize fish... only difference being now it had his prize lure hanging out of its mouth!

I looked at him, he looked at me... and I said: "I can get that for you?", "but, you OWE me"....

I took off my boots (why bother, they would have came off anyway!), emptied out my pockets, took off my sweatshirt... and off I went.

The mud was beyond words. I instantly sunk almost two feet into it. Because of sinking so deep I couldn't go anywhere, so I crawled on my hands and knees towards the water's edge to the fish. Praying that it wouldn't flop itself to freedom in the meantime. I was like a bulldozer shoving mud away from me just so I could move an inch closer. The mud stunk like nasty fish, it had bits of lake weeds and dead snails and clams in it.

Luckily, I reached the fish (which now too was black as night covered in mud!) I grabbed it and tossed it back to my husband. Then I started my journey back through the mud to safety.

When I made it to "dryer" land (still mud, just not sinking mud) My husband wanted to take his prize and quit fishing. I told him NO!!! I *technically* just started fishing in this spot, and I would like to keep trying! He just shook his head and started his journey back to the truck with his fish.

There I stood, my clothes covered in mud up to my chest, mud up to my elbows, I'm standing in the mud in my socks (remember- I took off my shoes) fishing away... I kept getting my reel clogged with the mud from on my hands.

I didn't catch anything... (go figure)

So I grabbed my boots, (it didn't pay to put them back on with me being so dirty) and walked back to the truck. The entire time I was worried that I would step on a shell or glass or a rock and cut my foot open then needing some kind of antibiotics. I made it back without further incident.

My husband was talking to some lake "looki-loos" when I arrived. I got a round of applause from them for my bravery! I was sooo embarrassed!!

Because I was so covered in mud, I couldn't ride IN the truck. I had to ride in the bed of the truck all the way home. My husband was so amused, he made a call and stopped by his parent's house so his dad could get a good laugh at me- and see the fish of course!

The fish was a 20" female large mouth bass that weighed over 4lbs. It was the largest fish (of that species) my husband had ever caught. And it was the largest fish (um... the ONLY fish) I have ever mud crawled for!