Tuesday, June 2, 2009
I tell ya, I'm going freakin' stir crazy. Looking out the door at the beautiful weather, nice local water conditions, just me and the dog and my John Deere green cast. I'm simply going bonkers.
Since I can't fish, I can play with my gear. My fly boxes are rearranged, my leaders are in order, my wading gear is neatly folded, my rods, reels, and lines are cleaned. I even blew up my float tube to see if it survived the winter. And I definitely need to get away from the TV and the computer. The Tyra Banks Show? Shoot me now!!! And you should see the Cabela's online whishlist I've accumulated. It's probably on a par with what this little ankle owwie will cost me in medical bills.
UNC Medical confirmed the fracture last week and stuck me in a colorful cast. Two weeks in it and, hopefully, a walking boot for another couple. I ought to be back at the stream in earnest by the later part of June. Correction. I will be back at the stream in earnest by the later part of June, dammit.
But, being the impatient sort, I set up a 4wt and hobbled down to the pond, today. I stood (well, more correctly,leaned) in the shade by the kiddie's beach and tossed a small yellow bream popper, practicing roll casts. I don't know about you, but I have enough problems getting my feet tangled in stripped line under normal circumstances, but toss in a third, awkward aluminum appendage and off-balance footing and it's truly hilarious.
After about a half-hour my rolls were looking a little better and had I caught about a dozen bluegill, some of fairly surprising size, that had dared to interrupt my casting practice. I had forgotten that the bream here are so healthy (though not on a footing with Geezer's pigs) as I have only fished for largemouths in this pond for the last year. Sorry, I took no pics as I was seriously short of hands as it was. You try managing a noodley flyrod, balance on a crutch, get a hearty fish to hand and release it from far enough from the water's edge so as not to get your cast muddy. Seriously, it could be on America's Funniest Videos... or maybe Dancing with the Stars.
It was fun, but hot, and under normal circumstances I'd have stayed a while, but this darn cast gets itchy enough without sweat rolling down inside it. (I can't wait to smell it when it comes off. Actually, maybe I can). What really sent me home, though, was the appearance of the first tick. I really didn't need one of those guys taking residence under the fiberglass for a couple weeks. A fractured ankle is one thing. Lyme disease is another.
All in all, it was great to get out, even if I did fish in the kiddie pool. It helped secure my sanity (or my version of it) for another day but, more importantly, it helped me appreciate how much I love the sport and how much I take my health and wholeness for granted. When I do get back to normal, help me remember that.