WINTER FISHING

  Wayne called the other day wanting to set up a day or two to go pre fishing for an up coming bass tournament on Brownlee Res.

 I love fishing bass on Brownlee as the Small Mouth are usually hungry and come in some very nice sizes.
 We planned the trip for either Wednesday , Thursday, or Saturday. Tuesday night rolled around and the weather forecast called for blowing winds up to 35 miles per hour. Not fishing weather for sure, so I bowed out of the Wednesday trip. Thursday was much the same so we opted to stay home and let the wind blow itself out and just try Saturday.
 I arrived at Wayne’s farm on a frosty Saturday morning. The thermometer was reading a chilly 19 degrees.
We loaded our heavy shirts, coats, and coveralls into Wayne’s truck, hooked to his bass boat, and headed to the upper end of Brownlee.
We arrived at the parking lot full of already launched boats, the empty trailers telling the story, and a friend standing waiting for his turn to launch.
“Got to watch that ramp,” he said. “It’s covered in ice.”
 Roger was alone so Wayne backed him down the ice covered ramp and launched him. We just locked his truck and hid his keys in a specified place so he could just stay in his boat and go off fishing.
I was laughing to myself. It looked more like the start of the Iditarod sled dog race than a day of fishing. Everyone was bundled up so much you could not recognize them.
We stood around for a while trying to let the day warm up a tad bit before launching the boat. At last we splashed it into the cold, murky water and took off.
“This is a perfect speed,” I yelled over to Wayne as we headed down the lake.
“Ha, ha,” he shouted back, “You wish.”
We were idling out of the no wake zone.
 The big 200 roared as Wayne punched the throttle and the boat jumped out of the water. There is just no going slow in a bass boat. He took us on plane and then dropped the throttle back so we were just holding planning speed. The speed odometer read about 45 miles an hour.
 We both crouched behind our little windshields as best we could to stay out of the biting wind, but it still penetrated every area of your body.
 Once we got to our first fishing place we found out that the boat ride was just the beginning of the day’s misery.  Wayne had fingerless mittens so he had a little warmth, all I had was heavy gloves so I had to take them off for casting and reeling. In just a few minutes my hands were numb with cold.
 At about noon the day started warming just a bit. The water was showing a chilly 49 degrees and warmed to a whole 50 by afternoon.
We managed to find some good fish for Wayne.  He will be going back after them next weekend in the tournament. It is a real challenge to find fish this weekend and hope they will be in the same areas and biting the same baits an entire week later. Only time will tell.
Our final boat ride was just as the sun set behind the mountains on the west side of the lake. Wayne opened the big motor and I could feel the boat lock on the planning pad. The wind roars past your ears and makes communicating almost nonexistent. I crouched low and glanced at the speedometer. The needle was slicing through the 70 miles per hour. Man is that flying on water!
Through the cold air and cold water we still managed a great fishing day. We had so much fun chatting about old times and dreaming about the future.
I felt ten pounds lighter once I got out of all the heavy clothing at the truck.
Winter fishing… fun but has a little price to pay, look at my numb, red fingers if you don't believe it.