It’s been a quiet day. The L&T and I gathered up Todd – family member and fly fisher – and ran uplake for a couple hours of smallmouth fishing.
We were interested in little more than knocking some of the dust off the gear, and – just like the guides suggested – we caught little smallmouth bass pretty much everywhere we went.
It wasn’t high drama, but it was damned fun.
Later, I snorkled around the dock and boathouse, shadowed by an 11″ smallmouth who clearly didn’t want any pasty white mammal competing for his territory (smallies are agressive).
Luckily, I survived my Brush with Jaws, only to face a larger jeopardy.
Tomorrow is a ostensibly a “big” fishing day – guides have been engaged and gear is being readied – but in truth, much of the drama there revolves around the traditional shore lunch.
Some think of the traditional shore lunch as a social event; something echoing back to a simpler time when even people who were fishing for real had time to relax and socialize a little in the middle of the day.
I know better.
The simple truth is this: the guides know that stuffing clients full of steak, potatoes and piece results in people too sleepy to fish.
Thus, the day ends early, and the tip is preserved.
Of course, having uncovered the Secret of the Guide Lunch, my life is jeopardy.
The Traditional Maine Guide Mafia – desperate to preserve their ugly little secret – would do almost anything to prevent the sprea