Saturday, May 19, 2012


I stole this from my wife's blog Moving On To The Past. She writes better than I do so why I figure why not just steal her stuff?

I pushed off from shore, stepping into the khaki green jon boat at the last minute, completely unaware of the struggle that would shortly ensue.  The jet skipped us over the rocks and barely submerged logs in mere inches of Meremac river water, glistening as the early evening sun reflected images of trees and sheer bluffs on its banks.

I sit at the bow facing the stern, hair tentatively pinned atop my head, loosening strands whipping in the wind.  I shut my eyes as the boat approaches the most shallow areas.  I can see the pebbles on the bottom.  If we stop, we're stuck.  Finally we reach Fish Trap Rapids where we meet up with neighbors also enjoying the quiet evening.  The girls are innocently playing on the gravel beach, swim suits damp from water play.  We're going fishing, slowly following the banks rich with grassy vegetation, fallen boulders and trees, bark peeling and sun bleached.

I am trying artificial bait, using something tiny and white with a treble hook.  It has a nickname, which I won't mention in polite company-or impolite for that matter.  At any rate, I don't typically use anything but worms so I'm not optimistic but I like to cast, particularly with a spinning  reel. It's light, you can feel everything, even the smallest nibble and control is much better.  I seem to have pretty good hand-eye coordination.  I can usually put it exactly where I am aiming (as long as I don't have a moving target)!  

Suddenly I have a hit.

I'm fighting it.  The rod is bending and my husband is yelling, "Keep the rod tip up" to keep the tension tight. I'm thinking, "Don't lose him!"  as I reel and pull.  I'm wishing our boat had those deep sea fishing straps,what if this guy starts pulling me in!   My brow is full of sweat, I'm bracing myself against the side of the boat.  I'm winning.

The river is pretty clear, aside from the mystery foam, seeds and occasional leaves that float down with the current,  I can start to see the beast beneath, struggling as much as I am.  I am confident now, I can do this. He breaks the water, caught solidly through the lip. I yell to get the camera, I can't let this opportunity go undocumented. 

I'll warn you, scroll down to see the photo.  I'm a mess by this time.  My hair is trashed and I'm exhausted.  I look like crap. 







I hope you enjoyed my Big Fish Story!  LOL  :)

I did catch the first, in fact four of them.  We would be lucky to have popcorn fish bites from this but it was fun!  A bald Eagle flew overhead.  He must live here because the guys tell me he is there every time they go fishing, which is often.  A beautiful heron was posing on the beach as we passed, watching us as much as we were marveling at him.

Neighbor's boat 

One of the many beaches

Have a wonderful weekend.


  1. Thank you for the visit to my muddy truck photo. I never knew about the Buchanan's mud run before. Nice to have a source for my photo. Also nice to have fellow bloggers in the area.

  2. OMG, I found you through a link to my blog and what a treat. Busy mom = less blog time but I will check back. Your pictures remind me of the White River, I lived in the Arkasas Ozarks, but only 11 miles from Missouri, neighbor. T

  3. Thanks, Geezer. I haven't been posting much in a while. I've gotten fairly busy, too. My wife, on the other hand, is putting stuff up all the time over at hers,

    She wrote this post and as I said, she's a way better writer than me.

    The Ozarks are great, aren't they? We live on the northeast side of them, about 60 miles southwest of St. Louis. We spend way too much time (is that possible?) on the Meramec River up where it's skinny and clear. You guys probably have boats with pumps down your way, too, so you know how it is.

    I've been reading your posts and I really enjoy them. Thanks for stopping by.