If you have something to say, post a comment. I will not respond to anonymous commenters, so if you care to joust with the GROUCH, open yourself a FREE GMAIL account and get yourself an ID so I'll know who you are.

If you'd like to be a guest contributor, email me at:
Opinions of the guests are not necessarily the opinion of the GROUCH!

Thursday, October 7, 2010

The Right Place at the Right Time

Tuesday I was way back up in the back end of Cub Creek bass fishing. This time of year, Cub Creek is a treacherous place to be with nothing but lots of shallow water and billions of huge stumps. The bass will come into this shallow water and lay on these stumps as they begin feeding for the winter, but you'd better know where you are going before tackling the creek in low water.

I was sitting in a bend in the creek on the edge of a large flat hitting one target after another with my Balsa B when a young guy and a girl in a flat bottomed aluminum boat slid by. He was moving rather briskly and I thought to myself that he had better be careful.

At that moment I heard a CRASH! I looked around and this dude had cut corners from the channel onto the flat and had ended up centered on the top of a huge stump. The boat was almost completely out of the water and he was stuck but good. He was probably about 100 feet away from me and he looked over at me and said, "Well, I guess I can't go that way."

He walked from bow to stern a couple of times scratching his head but it was obvious he was going nowhere. It was then I noticed he didn't even have a trolling motor or a sonar on the boat. I'm not even sure if he had a paddle.

"You think you're gonna be able to get off that stump?" I shouted.

"Well, maybe we could get out of the boat and push it off." he suggested.

I could tell the young girl with him didn't think too much of that idea. The water temp was 65 degrees and she was already wrapped up in a hoodie. I trolled on over toward him, careful not to get up onto the flat myself. I carry a large rope with hooks on each end for the specific purpose of towing something. I handed him the rope and instructed him to secure it to the bow of his boat and I secured my end to the transom of mine. My big Mercury didn't even groan as I pulled him free.

He thanked me for the rescue and said, "It was a good thing I hit that stump where I did cause I have not seen another boat in here all day."

I agreed, "You might very well have been sitting here at this time tomorrow!"

I tried to point out some places to him where he should not go and cautioned him a couple of times about the shallow water and the stumps. He asked me how long I had been fishing in Cub Creek.

"About 50 years." I said, probably at least twice as long as he had been alive.

He told me he was not a fisherman but rather a deer hunter searching out some places along the creek bank to try out later and he proceeded on upstream and out of sight. I slowly proceeded on downstream toward the main river hitting each stump I could find with the crank bait.

About 45 minutes later here he came back the other way. He waved as he passed and I noticed him hit several more stumps and churn up the shallow bottom on his way out. On some places on the creek there is only one place you can go and ONE PLACE ONLY. I smiled and shook my head as he disappeared around the bend.

I know he made it cause I passed him on the main river on the way home. There's always something to smile about on the river.

No comments:

Post a Comment