Bull Ridin'

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The Boys See the Elephant

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There was an expression in the Old West to describe what it was like for a tenderfoot to come west and see firsthand the grandeur and enormity of the country, and of life in it. He was said to have "seen the elephant." And once you've seen the elephant, well, it puts everything in its proper perspective.

Sunday was warm and beautiful, and the boys were aching to get back to the bass lake. It was business as usual: a little fishing, catching those jewel-like Bluegill that swarm around the dock in clouds...

And a lot of swimming.

Then it happened. They saw the elephant. This guy came in with his buddy and hoisted up a nice bass for all to see. This is the biggest bass the boys have seen taken out of this lake, and it proves that they're in there.

The boys were all eyes. So I'm wondering whether they'll be content after this with those tiny Bluegill, or whether they might get the sudden urge to venture out and find their own elephants. Especially after learning that these guys had caught a mess of little Bluegill, too, which they were going to use that night as bait for catfish that run way bigger than that bass.


Once you've seen the elephant....

Founder's Day Parade, 2011

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I love small town life. It was time again on Saturday for the Founder's Day Parade. I was disappointed that there were no horses in the parade this year, but a fatal horse virus making the rounds dictated that horses be left at home. So the Rodeo Queens rode in trucks. But there were still the marching bands, the tractors (one of which stalled out and had to be hand-cranked back to life), the vintage cars, the kids scrambling for candy, the trick riders on their vintage Harleys, Smokey the Bear, and, of course, the Wild Women, whose motto is "Well-behaved women don't make history." They helped make this parade another one for the history books.

flymage, June 2011

One of the good ones.

flymage

Trout Lake Report: On Trout Time Now

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Lake uncrowded for a Friday evening; higher than ever; channel is windy, fish are down; wind sits down at dusk, a few fish reluctantly get up; lose a fish, catch another in channel on Flashback Hare's Ear; chase rises down the channel into north lake; find several pods feeding eagerly; stay with Hare's Ear, find if can manage to plunk fly right in middle of exploding rises, take is instantaneous; net two more nice fish in short order; pods spread out, catching slows; paddle out thinking it's still early, get home later than ever; on trout time now.

"The Fish," by Mary Oliver

THE FISH

The first fish

I ever caught

would not lie down

quiet in the pail

but flailed and sucked

at the burning

amazement of the air

and died

in the slow pouring off

of rainbows. Later

I opened his body and separated

the flesh from the bones

and ate him. Now the sea

is in me; we are

risen, tangled together, certain to fall

back to the sea. Out of pain,

and pain, and more pain

we feed this feverish plot, we are nourished

by the mystery.

"The Fish," by Mary Oliver, from American Primitive.