After years of wanting, Cousin Galen finally took me fishing. Packed up the rods and the kiddies and lit out for Lake Temescal last Friday after work. I'd never been there and had no idea it was such a gem. Early evening and most of the swimmers had gone home, leaving the lake placid and duck-strewn for us anglers.
Clare brought spritzes and a lovely grin.
Chicken livers: irresistible to everyone but catfish.
The Catfish Hunter awaiting his prey. From the tying of lines to where and how to cast, Cousin Galen has it down.
Dropped our lines and had some snacks (and hoped somebody else would go looking for snacks as well).
For my birthday I was given a copy of Dr. Arpad Gerster's Notes Collected in the Adirondacks: 1895 & 1896 and it's renewed an obsession with the lakes and lands of the Northeast. Not being from there really allows one to romanticize and believe there might be pockets such as this still in existence. Wooden canoes, canvas tents and knee-high lace-up boots...its a heaven I hope to explore someday soon.
Night fishing with a radio and a few bottles of wine. Who can resist that kind of lure?
Not this guy. Franklin reeled him in and the joy was palpable as he was laid flipping about on the deck. I think we all hoped it would happen, but you can't beat the feeling of when it actually does.
Back at home, Galen showed us how to filet him, avoiding the bones and slicing away the skin. The good stuff then went into a container with milk to soak for a few hours and lose its fishiness. A day later and we patted it dry, rubbed it with mustard and bread crumbs and cooked both filets over a campstove. Can you beat that?
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Who's got bait legs? I've found a new love. Or maybe I just love anything slightly sporting that takes place on a body of water. In any case, I'm hooked and intend to keep fishing on the list of prominent hobbies. Which will require a bit of gear: we got our rods from Galen's garage sale, but I know tackle and whatnot can be easily found and I picked up a rather nice, almost vintage-looking wooden net at Sports Authority with minimal hassle. The real hassle came from the Park Policeman in Temescal who took the 10:00 curfew very seriously and assumed that the prevalence of gray hairs and lady-like manners meant we were still in high school and should be treated as the warrant-less delinquents we obviously are. Oh, Park Police won't you ever learn? We save our transgressions for the really big fish.