The past couple of weeks have brought many hunters and fishermen down to the ferry. Some hunters I see every year, and they have nicknamed me the "River Queen." It makes me smile and helps me remember who I am talking to. This year I haven't seen many animals riding in the back of trucks. However, I did see an impressive five-point atypical mule deer. Horns were straight on one side and laying over massive thickness on the other side. It was an impressive rack! I had another encounter with a 5x5 mule deer recently, only this one wasn't in the back of a truck, it was in my yard, and very much alive.
I was in the yard cleaning up things that one tends to save for another time or another project, I turned around to go to the house for a break, and there he was. A 5x5 mule deer, he came out of the brush right across the road from me. I took a quiet spot and leaned on the old outhouse to watch him. My first thought was, "Once again, you don't have your camera," and my second thought was, "You should have your gun; he is as big as your last one." I watched as the deer wandered down to the river's edge for a drink. He then ambled up in the willows, turning right toward me. He tousled the willows with his horns as if he was cleaning his magnificent rack to impress the does in the field. Then again, maybe he was sharpening them to keep his territory clear of any unwanted competition. He would fight with one bunch of willows and then move closer to me and work over another set of willows. He kept doing this until he got to the ferry. Once there, he looked around and kept strolling along the river. At this point, he was about fifty feet from me, and I was enjoying watching him so closely. He kept meandering down the river, right past my chicken coop. I continued to enjoy him slowly making his way down the river; it was a truly fantastic site. It reminded me of how blessed I am to live on the river.
These days the river is moving slower, and to be honest, life, in general, has seemed to slow down. This means more time to fish. I am the type of fisherman that throws my line out ten or so times, and if nothing bites, I am done. I have things to do. My latest fishing story, the one where the big one got away, is sad.
My grandson and I were fishing for Walleye and Pike. Ethan was giving up because nothing was biting; he must have learned that from me! I cast the shiny blue-green lure that I got for my birthday, a couple more times. I was using this blue-green lure because when Ethan and I checked the minnow trap, it had four crawdads and two smallmouth bass minnows. We never use what's in the trap as bait; it's more of a science lesson. My grandsons always tell me it's time to put them back now, makes me grin, anyway, back to the big one that got away. I cast out, and it was my last planned cast, I was reeling the lure in nice and slow. I could start to see the lure and thought, "not today; nothing is biting." Then bam, a huge walleye came out from the rocks and hit my tempting bait. My heart started racing; it's been a while since I caught a walleye this big. I didn't have far to bring him in; however, the net was out of my reach. I whisper-yelled, "Ethan get grandma the fishing net," but he was just as excited as I was, so he sat there staring at the fish.
I repeated louder, "Ethan get the net, I can't bring him up over the rocks." While Ethan was getting the net, I, of course, was inpatient and had to try to bring him over the smaller rocks. SNAP! The end of my pole brooked off down to the second eye. Pop! The line went from the broken fiberglass rod. It took a second for the fish to leave, but the net didn't arrive in time. It was a big thick female, so I tell myself it is good it got away, and then I think how amazing it would have been for dinner. Next time I will be ready!
In case you are wondering, it was two feet long, maybe three feet. I can't say for sure; I have not told this story very often.
