This year was supposed to be better than 2013 for me. I was starting with a clean slate of no incidents or accidents. That lasted a whole 4 days.
Last Friday night before the cold was due to get here I told Susan I was getting up early to go fishing. She scanned the floor for any loose marbles or parts of my mind I had lost. She isn’t an early rising, get out in the cold lady unless it is absolutely necessary.
At 6:30 a.m. it is dark. Before I got the truck out I went out and uncovered my boat. My motion light came on as I busied around. I went over to where I keep the key to unlock the gate. It wasn’t there. I searched as well as I could to no avail. I went to the boat, got my LED light out and did another search with no luck. I unstacked about a quarter of my wood pile thinking it might have fallen in it but no key.
Undaunted I started in the shop to get bolt cutters. I had forgotten I don’t own any. It was still dark but getting lighter in the east. Digging out my trusty saws, all I went for was a metal cutting blade. The best blade I found needed to visit a dentist for dentures — it didn’t have good teeth.
I was burning daylight as I carried my saw to the gate. The extension cord was about three feet short. More time lost as I had to go to the storage building for a longer cord.
Getting it all hooked up I went to the gate, put it in the lock hasp and commenced sawing. I was making enough noise. I thought I saw my neighbor come to the door to see what was happening. The lock was jumping and I could see shavings falling as it was getting lighter. Man, I was making headway, and then the inside latch on the gate fell off.
The lock was still unscratched. I went back to the shop to get a big set of vice grips which I used to clamp the lock to the end gate for support. I commenced sawing and things were going well.
I just didn’t pay much mind to the lock slowly turning on the tubing until I cut the end gate support in two. The lock still didn’t have a mark on it except it was shiny from the dull blade polishing it. It was getting really light — my fishing window was closing.
Back to the shop. I pulled out my big angled grinder, clamped the lock to the tension bar, fired up the grinder, which sounds like a turbine engine on a jet, and the sparks started flying.
I went through that lock hasp like a knife through hot butter and most of the tension bar also. I left a gate in bad need of repair as I headed for the lake. Came back and fixed the gate. I had all the parts I needed from past fence-building adventures.
This year gets better. A friend of mine, who was going to Disney World for a week, asked me to keep an eye on his motor coach while he was gone since it was supposed to get cold.
I beetle bopped up to the storage stall he keeps it in, checked it all out, then unlocked the door and went in. After I checked out the inside I hit the unlock button to get out, then turned the handle I kept clicking the lock and turning the handle.
I could hear it working but still couldn’t get the door open. The handle I was turning didn’t do anything. Finally giving up I called him in Florida and told him I was locked in the coach and the door wouldn’t work to let me out.
After he quit braying like a donkey he asked me if I could see the knob on the Plexiglas in the middle of the door, I slid it open and there was the door latch to get out. I had spent all that time working the screen door handle trying to get out! Don’t ask — I had a “CRS” moment.
Then this week I was taking my broken three-bank charger out of my boat and messed up my wrist big time. I’m wearing a brace now. Throw in almost getting whopped on the head during this time by the metal bar I’m using to knock pecans out of the tree is making me leery of what is in store for me down the road.
Getting to my fishing place late saw me still catch two plus missing a couple of more. I spent some time just riding around in Little Mineral looking at a lot of new stuff to fish if the lake comes back up.
All of the smaller coves are seeing people pull their boats out as docks are sitting on the sand. Our ramp, one of the better ones on the lake, just had me post a “launch at your own risk” sign. If you back out too far it drops off big time.
I don’t have a rosy report on catching to give you. Even the Six Old Geezers website is lean on good fishing news. My worrying friend Rick, who helped me put out brush Tuesday, says he thinks the shad are dying from the cold. I don’t know yet anyway. Be very careful running around — it’s shallow out there.