I love to fish. I would do it for a living if I didn’t depend on what I do for a living putting food on the table and clothes on the backs of the boys, but I do depend on what I do for a living to do this stuff, so I don’t do it for a living, but I do do it a lot.
And standing next to a pond or lake as much as I do, it was inevitable that inevitably I would fall in the water. I accept this risk as part of the fishing and standing by a lake or pond process. I just didn’t think it would happen to me…twice in the same day.
For some reason, the day this happened, I had decided to NOT wear my nifty waterproof, snakebite proof, (pretty much nature proof) boots and instead put on these crappy old tennis shoes – not that I’ve ever been anywhere near a tennis racket, but that’s not the point.
The point is, like the moron I tend to be, I showed up to a gunfight with a knife.
The fishing started out about as vanilla as you could imagine, I caught a fish. A bass, if you must know, but what happened next can only be explained as nature taking advantage of me not wearing my nature proof boots.
With the fish off the lure, I attempted to toss it back in the water. For reasons I’ve yet to determine, the fish made the decision to not go into the water, but instead go into the tall grass along the bank where it had no chance of making it back home on its own.
Being the ever aware nature lover that I am – no not THAT kind of nature lover – I started to cuss at the little twerp and went over to pick it up and put it in the water so it could be with the other NORMAL, non-amphibian, fish. In doing so one of my feet decided it was curious about the temperature of the pond water. This did little to diminish my swearing at the fish – it was, after all, his fault I was now up to my right knee in stinky pond mud.
I pulled myself out of the stinky pond mud and wrote the entire episode off as just a freak accident and continued my fishing. A little later I noticed I was standing in the same spot I was when I slipped in, only now the ground was all wet and slippery from me pulling my previously insubordinate foot out of the water.
I was also thinking that maybe I should be careful and not get close enough to slip in again.
Apparently thinking about not doing something and actually not doing it are two different things, so in I went, again. This time I had no fish to blame so I blamed the pond and it’s obviously freakishly strong gravitational pull.
By this time both my feet were soaking wet, my jeans smell like hammered poo from the stinky pond mud, and I’ve only caught one fish. I decided it was time to change tactics and fish with a worm and bobber – as this would mean I would simply be sitting there and not actually walking around the pond. But worms and bobbers have a certain drawback in early spring…Bluegills – the STD of the aquatic world.
Bluegill are nothing more than little slimy jerkfaces that serve no other purpose than to be food for other fish. This is important to remember because, if your hands are all slimy, the next time you cast you may just throw your whole stupid rod into the stupid pond because of all the stupid slime.
And then you will have to wade out into stinky pond mud to retrieve it, but it won’t matter because you were already wet from slipping into the pond two times because you forgot to wear your nature proof boots and nature doesn’t like you.
At this point I pulled up stakes, thanked my buddy for letting me harvest some of his stinky cow pond mud, and headed back to the barn…