It's kind of embarrassing to put up a winter TR after the that tour de force by Junglecock, but this'll have to do.
WB25 and I decided to take advantage of the President's Day holiday and spend some time on the water, and try to get him his first NY feesh. Glista wanted to play too.
You might want to take note of the black bag. You'll be seeing it again.
It was friggin' cold. Even the car was complaining. But it was supposed to warm up later in the day.
So away we went. Note the black bag again. And the cool waterproof backpack.
It wasn't as crowded as we feared, nor as empty as we hoped, and we found a good spot to swing some fur and feathers while dodging ice floes. Not a lot happening for a while.
This is the spot where a cool picture of my thermometer showing the nearly freezing water should be:
But I forgot, because as I was digging around my bag for it, WB called out, and I saw he had a fish on.
He landed a nice lake-run brown. Purdy feesh. First NY fish for WB. A nice little baptism, welcome to the area, all that. Pictures were taken.
We went off to find Glista, who had wandered off to a different pool. He had landed one too. Here's Glista; maybe he'll post a shot of the fish later.
So now, I'm thinking, it's my turn. We've only been out for a few hours, and it's just starting to warm up, although our feet might have been hard pressed to believe that. We wander down to a new hole. WB was the first in the water. Literally.
As in a literal baptism. And not a little Catholic-style sprinkling either, but a pretty solid Holy Roller-style dunking. Well, a good sit down, anyway.
Glista did baptize in the wilderness, and preach the baptism of the joy of Western New York lake run fish...
Remember that black bag that I mentioned earlier? Here it is again.
And here is what it contained (the camera stuff, not the other bags):
WB was way tough about his immersion, and laughed it off. He did, however, seem concerned about the lens that may or may not have been his wife's, and that he may or may not have been supposed to bring. And the fancy waterproof backpack that his camera stuff should or should not have been in.
Even wet, in sub-freezing temps, WB was willing to fish more. We decided, however, that it was lunchtime, and we'd meander off to a restaurant. Skulli would have to wait for his first fish of the year.
Glista did, however, stop to drool over some feathers we passed.
Lunch (including WB's first 'beef on weck,' a local delicacy) was had, conversation was had, beverages drank, and they were good.
Skullion Childs, out.