Hot doesn't even begin to describe
it...This wasn't just your run of the mill early July weather...This
was that oppressive, thick, damp heat. The kind that takes your
breath and makes you sweat without without moving an inch or lifting
a finger. The kind that causes everything to wither and curl. The
trees, corn, tobacco and beans are showing the effects of the
prolonged heat wave and dry weather. Literally 100 degrees in the
shade and to make matters worse, the central air had been zapped by a
lightning strike during last night's pop up storm...My nerves were on
edge and the prospect of coughing up thousands to replace the A/C
unit had my already short fuse burning fast!
The inside temperature wasn't
much relief...The termostat read 87 degrees in the living room. Cold
showers helped and the idea of lying perfectly still on the couch
surrounded by fans and ice packs and a cold glass of tea seemed the
rational thing to do. But, then there's the issue of two 14 year old
boys being here and being 14 year old boys, they didn't care if it
was 20 degrees or 100! They were bored and asked if we could go
fishing...Fishing in this weather???
We loaded the rods and tackle
boxes and headed to one of my favorite ponds. By the time we walked
the couple hundred yards to the pond, my shirt was soaked with sweat
and I was re-thinking the prospect of lying on the fan blown couch
and second guessing my decision to go fishing...
The two teens spread out around
the pond and I made my way along the dam and cast next to the mats of
floating moss...Locusts and peepers singing and an occasional
bullfrog would chime in. The air was thick and not the slightest hint
of a breeze... “Maybe the fish won't bite and the boys will be
ready to call it an evening and we can leave soon”, I thought to
myself...just then, a small bass took my Rapala and fought hard as I
reeled him in. The boys started to enjoy some success as well as the
heat didn't seem to bother the little bass as they eagerly struck
their baits.
The boys and I talked back and
forth across the pond and gradually, the thoughts of replacing my air
conditioner and money drifted from my mind. Even the heat seemed
tolerable as we cast and reeled and laughed and swatted bugs away
from our faces...As I knelt to change lures and looked out at my son
and his buddy, I almost felt guilty for not wanting to take them
fishing...this is the kind of stuff that boyhood is made of and in
today's world, too little fishing between fathers and sons and
friends goes on...
Evening is turning to night and
we'll have to pack it in soon. A few more casts to be made. A likely
looking patch of cattails...My Culprit worm is flipped into the water
and as it settles into the depth, a slight tug on the line. I can
immediately feel some heft to the fish and a quick flick of the wrist
and the hook is set deep! The big bass makes a hard run and peels
line from the bait caster as the rod bends...I yell to the boys that
it's a good one, not completely sure that they believe me or not. The
fight continues for a minute or two and the big ol' girl is hoisted
on the bank. I hold her up and the boys yell their approval with
hoots and holloring and I'm amazed at the size of the fish in my
hands. The largest bass of I've ever caught. My fist is easily
swallowed by the huge mouth as I remove the hook. She's a hair over
24 inches long and I can only imagine how much the big gal would've
weighed a couple months ago when filled with eggs before she
spawned...A few photos were nabbed and I quickly released her back
into the warm water and as she swims away, I think to myself that I'm
glad I chose the boys and the pond and the heat over the couch and
the fans and iced tea...