The bait was stored in the fridge with great care, in hopes that fish morsels they soon would lay bare.
I was early nestled all snug in my bed, while visions of rainbows swam through my head.
When soon the alarm I arose with such clatter, I sprang from my bed, no more sleep would much matter. Away, to mirror I flew like a flasher. I opened my eyes – and threw up – I LOOK LIKE TRASH! (ER...)
Arriving at Wal-mart “The_Coach” did appear, with a big red truck willing to drive, and no jeer. We drove up the canyon so lively and quick, we knew in a moment it must be Soldier Creek.
Still early for me, my first “comfort break” came, Coach whistled and shouted called me a name. On Rainbow, on cutthroat, to the top of the ice. We didn’t much care if the fish were naughty or nice.
The fish were all dressed in scales fin to jaw, all covered with slime and cold our hands did need thaw. Limits of trout we had slung in a sack, my son looked so happy, just needed a snack.
His eyes how they twinkled, his pimples so merry. He landed a cutt, biggest he’d caught at the Berry.
Coach’s pole went all bent like just so, but he’d caught this dinky rainbow… He spoke not a word, lines straight to his work, as I’m sure he was thinking – Roghet is a JERK!!!
I lay my finger just under my nose, and with a quick twist, up my nostril it goes. I was pleased and content, no skunk on the shelf, I laughed merrily, in spite of myself.
We caught 3 cutts and lost count of the bows, but smaller ones were shallower this day shows. The cutts were hanging near the bottom, 22’ feet deep, along with larger bows mid depth they did creep. Cutter bugs worked, didn’t much matter if waxies or crawlers, but white was thus favored as to the colors.
The ice was at least 10 inches thick, we found out the hard way it could be quite slick. And as nice as it was that it be so clear, the cracks of expansion made us cry, “Oh dear!”
We loaded our sleds and walked back to the car. As fishing trips go, this beat others by far! Away we all flew, and to end this epistle, I took this last photo of our big fishcicle.
If you are like me, you want Santa to bring, many opportunities to go catch THIS big thing!
We were heard to exclaim, as we drove out of sight, HAPPY FISHMAS TO ALL – AND ‘MAY YOUR LINES THEY BE TIGHT! (‘THIS POEMS COPYRIGHT’)
Anyways…. I lack the time to make this all rhyme… The ice at Soldier Creek was as clear and solid as I’ve been on. It was very hard to hand drill thru. We thought there was still a big patch of open water to the South East, but we drove on the dam road a bit to see and it was frozen clear ice except for a small patch of open water right in the middle. We turned around there, but the road was passable with 4WD. Folks were fishing in pretty much every bay we saw.
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