Actually, when I go fishing I’m a little scared I will catch something. Yeah, then I’ve got to be all brave around the guys, and grab that fish, and yank that hook out of his mouth. No gros! allowed here. People watchin’.

So John across the street and his outspoken friend Darko took me fishing. I, in turn, took the weekend off at church. (Which was a little crazy). Then Friday afternoon we loaded Darko’s truck with our poles and tackle and food and drink.

It was a good time. Good partly because we didn’t catch nuthin’. Though they wouldn’t agree, I’m sure. The point was to pull some salmon out of the river at the falls… there were lots of fishermen there, anglers they like to be called, I guess. And they all left empty-handed, shoulders sagging, head drooping— all angled.

‘Cept me, of course, for reasons explained above.

The first day, Saturday morning, the guys coaxed me out of bed at 3:00 a.m. My goodness, how the stars shine at three, when there’s no city to out-swell them. I wasn’t shining quite so bright… but the stars almost made it worthwhile getting up early.

In the pitch black one could barely make out the shoreline. I sat in my folding chair, with my pole stretched out over the water. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. It was freezing! This is craziness.

At 9:30 a.m. we packed it in and grabbed breakfast at a little greasy restaurant. Then back to the cottage for a game of Risk and a three hour nap. Then back out to fish.

Standing on the shore does limit your ability to conquer the lake. I think I need a boat next time.

But still, I had a blast. There’s something cool about getting away from it all for a while, the sound of frogs and geese, the crisp air. Leaves were already changing in Saubo. It was beautiful.

Can’t wait for next year.

~Jason