Thankful Outdoors: Peaceful Moments on the Lake

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MARSHFIELD, WI (OnFocus) – I had an opportunity this week to experience a few hours of solitude. These few hours of isolation felt odd at first, but I felt like a guy who had a refresh button pushed by the end evening.

The only person I spoke with that evening was a gentleman and his black lab with whom I had a brief conversation at the boat landing. The following 4 hours were just me. In true fashion of being alone, I found myself expressing out loud the occasional expression of “oh missed that one, that was a good hit, and of course the favorite – that feels like a good one!”

My fishing skills seemed to have declined over the last couple of weeks; I missed way more fish than I caught on this peaceful evening. Is my age catching up with me and reaction times are slowing down or was it that I was so drifted off into thoughts that I wasn’t paying attention?

It had been around two years since I last recall being alone in the boat; I thought about that musky solitude outing where I spent the majority of a day on the water all by myself. Fished through wind and rain, the only food on board was some snack sticks and a half bottle of Gatorade. That outing produced only one musky sighting late in the afternoon, and during times of break on throwing big lures, I would try for crappie, I had success on the crappie bite.

My outings with the boys continue to dwindle as they grow older, and they find interest in other things. This old Ultracraft has given us so many memories together and has been a priceless purchase in my life. As I drifted over areas of fishing cribs that the boys and I had found on this lake the last time we fished it, I wondered if I would find the bite there again tonight.

Tonight though, I didn’t even hook up the electronics to pinpoint those locations. I was content with just drifting through the area based on memory. I had missed a few bites in this area. The most action for the evening was along a shoreline that had memories of an ice fishing outing a few years back with the Sebold gang and Nehlrich.

When the bite got real slow, I looked at the back of the boat and could faintly hear the voice from a new fishing partner this year who often mocks me with the comment, “There ain’t no fish in here!” whenever we are in a slow fishing time.

The desire to use the boat has drastically reduced this year,  as I still heal over the loss of Boone. He was a bird dog, but he sure loved to go fishing. It’s been months since he passed, but these “first times” of things sure hit me yet.

As I watch, the days get shorter, and the leaves start to get slight yellow coloring to them. I mentally prepare myself in the thoughts of not having Boone around for bird season. I’m sure I will find myself sitting on a stump this fall, taking a break and be in a state of solitude, and memories of him will come rushing to me.

The livewell only had one keeper in it; that fish was released to be caught another day. I didn’t want to disturb the peacefulness of this no-wake lake, so I o

nly used the trolling motor as I made my way back to the boat landing.

Even though I was all alone on that lake, I had felt like I had a boat full with me as I reflected on the many memories that had come to me over the evening. The evening of solitude brought calmness to me that matched the surface of the water!

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News Desk
Author: News Desk

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