2013-08-06_0839
It took us a long time to get the kayaks strapped to the roof of the Rav 4. After an hour of fiddling with the straps, moving the kayak holders, and adjusting the bars we were finally on the road.
We stopped for some food at McDonald’s, where I learned it is basically impossible to order an “ice water.” The lady said I had to also purchase a soda.
“But can’t I just get an ice water and you charge me for a soda?”
When I got to the window they handed me our food, a coke for Claire, and a sprite. I slowly drove away, perplexed, without an ice water.
We hit traffic immediately– an accident on 131– and took a construction-laden detour up Division.
It was quite some time after that we were finally on the open road, joined on all sides by other cars making their way north.
The sun set as the city turned to suburbs turned to trees and farmland.
An hour from our destination, we stopped for gas. I picked up some beef jerky and a coffee to combat my droopy eyelids. Now that I’m on one cup a day, any additional caffeine is extremely effective. Within a few miles I was tapping all over the steering wheel, speed metal I’d never heard stuck on a loop in my head.
We got to the cabin late. It was dark and smelled like pine trees.
Lucas was in the kitchen; we were greeted by Ruger and Rory, their tails wagging and slapping everything. Mark and Becca emerged from their room and said “hi” before going back to sleep. Claire and Lucas did the same; I grabbed my fishing gear and headed for the dock.
No way I was going asleep anytime soon, thanks to coffee and the constant urge to go fishing.
IPH0214
The night sky was huge and dark, filled with more stars than I’ve ever seen. The water was calm, the surface only broken by what I assumed were fish feeding.
I fished in the dark, enjoying the silence and solitude as much as I actually fished.
A few feet from the dock where I sat, a huge splash erupted near my topwater prop bait– but that was all the action I got.
Even a hotdog on a hook– my go-to night fishing bait– was ignored.
I laid my rod down, hotdog on the bottom somewhere in the lake, and watched the frequent meteors overhead. Almost every 90 seconds, a strip of gold light appeared in the sky, quickly dissipating. One very large meteor was so bright and big I couldn’t help but gasp when it passed overhead.
At 2 or 3am I stood up, walked back to the cabin, and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the fish we’d catch a few short hours later.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *