The Great Fishing Trip ...
The larder was getting a bit empty when I decided to go fishing to restock my supplies. In preparation, I found my tackle box and removed a large, snarled ball of lines, hooks, leaders, flies, plugs, weeds, and tree branches. Pleased that all was in order, I stuffed the tangled mass back into the box.
I paddled onto my favourite lake just as the sun was setting and mosquitoes began flitting across the water. Fish were rising to dine on the mosquitoes, which was a good thing, because the mosquitoes were dining on me. Every wrinkle, every fold of my epidermis was populated with a hungry insect. Not since the days of my youth had so many females been attracted to me.
I untangled a suitable length of fishing line, tied on a bright red lure, and began my cast. A moment later, an onlooker on shore started whooping and hollering. I must admit it was an excellent cast, but I wished they would control their enthusiasm. With all that shouting, I was worried they would scare away the fish.
A moment later I noticed the onlooker was wearing a red earring that looked just like my fishing lure. Then I realized that it was my fishing lure. With some difficulty, I retrieved my hook, and then made another cast.
Suddenly, the line went tight. It was man against fish, and I fought with all my strength. I whipped the rod back and a huge trout came flashing out of the water. The fish flew past, slapped me across the face, and spat out the hook in a final act of defiance. I lunged across the canoe. The slippery trout was in my grasp! Then it popped out of my hands like a greased … well, like a greased fish.
What followed was a lot of splashing, jumping, flopping about, and general mayhem. I had no idea what the fish was up to, but somehow in the excitement, I had fallen in the lake. After a few more minutes of splashing and shouting, I realized the water was only knee deep where I had tipped.
Never one to give up easily, I climbed back into the canoe and continued fishing. Three hours and several hundred mosquito bites later, I hooked another fish. My rod doubled over. The line screamed out from the reel. I fought against the behemoth at the other end of the line.
Finally, after a great battle, I yanked my supper into the canoe. I proudly gazed upon a humongous, glistening, trout.
Back in my youth, I had been quite the accomplished fisherman. If memory serves me correctly, I would often feed multiple families with my catch of the day. I was pleased that I hadn’t lost my touch after all these years!
I must have worked up quite an appetite with my day-long fishing trip. For some reason, even after feasting on the four-inch-long trout I was still a bit hungry.
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