Kayak Fishing - Alabama Style
Saturday we woke up early and put our kayaks into Cane creek to drift and fish the six miles down to lake Logan Martin.
After about a mile, we had to get out and drag our kayaks up the bank into a cow pasture to get around a tree that had fallen into the creek. We slid our boats around most of the fresh cow doo, but bro. Jeremy stepped in a soft spot on the bank where the cows come to refresh themselves, and was instantly ankle deep in a noxious mixture of the stuff. Later on, Chad remembered that he had accidentally left his favorite rod here.
A couple miles later, we came upon an old man and his wife fishing on the bank. There was no sign of civilization... except a truck parked behind them. Chad and Jeremy drifted past and the woman's lap dog barked at them. She said: "it's okaaay, they can fish too. If you don't be quiet, I'll put you in the truck.......all by yourself". She said it over and over until the dog stopped barking. Then she saw me and started again: "I'll put you in the truuuck.......all by yourself," But the dog wasn't barking anymore.
A while later we passed a feeder creek. Chad said, "do you smell that? There's a hog farm up that creek." I was glad we had brought our own water.
We really had a great time, even though the fishing wasn't spectacular this weekend. The creek was beautiful and the company was first rate. We amused ourselves by watching Jeremy stand up in his kayak, and also by crashing through branches laden with spiders. I hate spiders. A big hairy wolf spider crawled past my leg and into the cup holder and I pretended not to notice (only screamed a couple of times). Patience soon paid off when it emerged from the top of the cupholder and I expertly flipped it into the water with my paddle... after a few tries.
Chad caught a nice spotted bass, and with his bare hands, a turtle and a snake. He's a real man. We polished off this trip by realizing we were late for choir practice, and paddled like eskimos back to Chad's house. Daniel was there waiting to tell us he had been bank fishing and caught 12 fish in just a few hours. Oh well...!
After about a mile, we had to get out and drag our kayaks up the bank into a cow pasture to get around a tree that had fallen into the creek. We slid our boats around most of the fresh cow doo, but bro. Jeremy stepped in a soft spot on the bank where the cows come to refresh themselves, and was instantly ankle deep in a noxious mixture of the stuff. Later on, Chad remembered that he had accidentally left his favorite rod here.
A couple miles later, we came upon an old man and his wife fishing on the bank. There was no sign of civilization... except a truck parked behind them. Chad and Jeremy drifted past and the woman's lap dog barked at them. She said: "it's okaaay, they can fish too. If you don't be quiet, I'll put you in the truck.......all by yourself". She said it over and over until the dog stopped barking. Then she saw me and started again: "I'll put you in the truuuck.......all by yourself," But the dog wasn't barking anymore.
A while later we passed a feeder creek. Chad said, "do you smell that? There's a hog farm up that creek." I was glad we had brought our own water.
We really had a great time, even though the fishing wasn't spectacular this weekend. The creek was beautiful and the company was first rate. We amused ourselves by watching Jeremy stand up in his kayak, and also by crashing through branches laden with spiders. I hate spiders. A big hairy wolf spider crawled past my leg and into the cup holder and I pretended not to notice (only screamed a couple of times). Patience soon paid off when it emerged from the top of the cupholder and I expertly flipped it into the water with my paddle... after a few tries.
Chad caught a nice spotted bass, and with his bare hands, a turtle and a snake. He's a real man. We polished off this trip by realizing we were late for choir practice, and paddled like eskimos back to Chad's house. Daniel was there waiting to tell us he had been bank fishing and caught 12 fish in just a few hours. Oh well...!
Brother Jeremy crossing over a tight spot:
Brother Chad w/ a nice spotted bass:
Me probably washing off some "mud":
Chad is a real man. Here's proof:
posted by Ben Black @ 8:43 PM
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