When it Rains it Pours

     Yesterday I headed out for the first time this season to a favorite trout lake. I had checked my gear the day before, inflating the pontoon boat and float tube to check for leaks (wait for it...), retied knots and went over my gear. With the truck loaded I went to bed for a sleepless night.

      3:30 AM Couldn't have come quick enough. I was on the road for the two hour drive to meet an old friend and hopefully catch a trout or two. Smoking a dried out cigar from my vacation in February and listening to the Nightwatchmen (Tom Morello) I watched as the sun began its march to noon. I was happy and content and thought to myself, "this is gonna be a good day,"

      I was welcomed at my destination with calm waters, the cry of loons and not another soul insight. Excitement took over as I quickly began gearing up. The rods were rigged, waders donned and the pontoon boat ready to be inflated. I pumped up both pontoons only to hear the horrendous hiss as air was escaping one of my bladders. No problem. I always pack my belly-boat just in case. To my horror it too had a leak.

     I waited until Kent showed up to try a quick patch job as I was all out of Aquaseal but to no avail.

     As I begrudgingly drove home I thought whoever coined the phrase, "a bad day of fishing sure beats a good day of working," probably never had a run of bad luck like that. Sitting at a railroad crossing waiting for a train to pass I noticed a fresh deer carcass near the tracks, "you and me buddy!"