Thursday, January 27, 2011

mississippi monster

tell about a fishing or hunting experience


Have you ever gone fishing on a whim? I have.  No bait. No poles. No plan. Just go. One time that comes to mind was when I had been living in south mpls when I was 19. I was at a friend’s house when out of the blue he said, “let’s go fishing.” Wha? Where’d that come from? Like I said, no poles. No bait. No plan. But we gathered the necessary equipment: pole? We found a long stick out of his backyard.  Bait? We cooked up a batch of corn meal mush. Plan? What plan? OK, make that the mighty mississip. He claimed to know of a hot spot on the river. Unfortunately, there was a 20 foot drop down to the river. As I stood at the top next to the rock wall, holding my stick with a ball of homecooked corn meal mush attached to a string dangling from the end, my thoughts went from, “this is insane!” to “there is no way I’m going to catch a fish with this!” oh how wrong I was proven to be.
After what seemed like forever, I felt something tug on the mush at the end of my line. I was completely taken by surprise, screaming, “I’ve got something! Something BIG!” my friend reassured me that it was just a stick that had been floating by and then snagged on my line. He told me to give my stick a good tug to remove the debris. I tugged….hard. whatever it was did not shake free.
As I continued to hold onto my stick with this excessive force trying to pull me into the river, my friend did nothing but continue to reassure me that I did not have a fish on the end of my line. OK, whatever you say! After all, you’re the expert fisherman here. I’m just a dumb girl.
After fighting this force for about 20 minutes I suggested that my friend take the stick to see if he could work it loose from whatever was snagging it. He reluctantly took it, and as soon as he did, he yelled, “you’ve got something! Something BIG!” well, duh! Didn’t I say that about 20 minutes ago?  He immediately began pulling the line in with his hands, but being that there was a 20 foot drop to the river, it couldn’t be lifted up out of the river without the risk of snapping the line and losing whatever happened to be at the end. He handed the stick to me and told me to walk it along the wall until we got close enough to pull it out of the water. So there I was, walking an obviously big something downriver with about 5-7 strangers now gathered around watching for what I might pull from this muddy water.
After about 10 minutes I was able to get close enough to the water to allow us to pull the angry fighter to the edge to get a good look at it. It was the largest, ugliest, palest, dirty carp I had ever seen. OK, so I had never seen a carp before this one. But it was still pretty darn ugly. And BIG. And it was def the ugliest FISH I had ever seen.
Because we were still about 5 feet above the surface of the river, I had to continue my journey downriver with this mighty guy. I soon was stumbling over boulders, and could no longer hold onto my stick without ending up in the river with the fish. That would have been bad. Really bad. So I handed the stick to my friend so he could pull it out and we could figure out what to do with it. He was able to finally get it onto shore, but the carp was flopping around so much that he couldn’t get hold of it. I don’t know that I would have wanted to try to wrestle with it. The thing could have taken on mr. hulk Hogan and probably win. In hulk’s prime wrestling days.

The next thing that happened, I’m not sure I want to share with you all, but I will. I’m claiming right now a disclaimer that it was not me who actually did this, and I do not take responsibility for my friend’s actions. The next thing I knew I was holding my fishing stick, as my friend picked up a huge log-sized stick and began whacking this huge, defenseless, innocent carp over the head.  I screamed for him to stop, but he insisted that it would be the only way we could ever get it home. I told him there was no way I was bringing that ugly thing home, and more importantly, there was no way I was going to try to eat that thing. It came out of the missisippi, for goodness sakes!  In south Minneapolis! No way! No how! Nuh-uh! Not this girl. But he continued the brutality until the carp laid there, still and lifeless. Either it was a good faker, or it was dead. As a doornail. Poor thing. I kinda felt bad for it. Kinda.
Well, being that we had arrived at our fishing sight on motorcycle with no way to actually bring this large creature home, we decided to leave it there for the time being so we could come back with my friend’s car. As we were preparing to leave, we noticed several seagulls gathering around our catch, along with a number of homeless people. We took one more look at the beast before leaving, and one of the homeless kids who were there asked what we were going to do with the fish. We told him our plan, got on our motorcycle and left.
Upon returning to our fishing site about 10 minutes later, there was no sign of our fish. Anywhere. No seagulls. No homeless people either. they had all left the area. We drew the conclusion that because that jumbo beast was just way too heavy for any seagull we knew to fly away with it, it had to have been the homeless people who snagged it. They were eyeing it with a look of hunger in their eyes earlier, so it was a sensible conclusion.
I don’t know if my friend was actually going to eat that thing or not, but I knew I was not. But I do know it got eaten. Probably by those who needed it the most. I felt bad about how the thing died, but in the long run it was for a good cause. I just hope they enjoyed the cornmeal mush that was in its tummy. That probably was the only healthy part of the entire meal.  Mmmm yummy!
Not!

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Thursday, January 27, 2011

mississippi monster

tell about a fishing or hunting experience


Have you ever gone fishing on a whim? I have.  No bait. No poles. No plan. Just go. One time that comes to mind was when I had been living in south mpls when I was 19. I was at a friend’s house when out of the blue he said, “let’s go fishing.” Wha? Where’d that come from? Like I said, no poles. No bait. No plan. But we gathered the necessary equipment: pole? We found a long stick out of his backyard.  Bait? We cooked up a batch of corn meal mush. Plan? What plan? OK, make that the mighty mississip. He claimed to know of a hot spot on the river. Unfortunately, there was a 20 foot drop down to the river. As I stood at the top next to the rock wall, holding my stick with a ball of homecooked corn meal mush attached to a string dangling from the end, my thoughts went from, “this is insane!” to “there is no way I’m going to catch a fish with this!” oh how wrong I was proven to be.
After what seemed like forever, I felt something tug on the mush at the end of my line. I was completely taken by surprise, screaming, “I’ve got something! Something BIG!” my friend reassured me that it was just a stick that had been floating by and then snagged on my line. He told me to give my stick a good tug to remove the debris. I tugged….hard. whatever it was did not shake free.
As I continued to hold onto my stick with this excessive force trying to pull me into the river, my friend did nothing but continue to reassure me that I did not have a fish on the end of my line. OK, whatever you say! After all, you’re the expert fisherman here. I’m just a dumb girl.
After fighting this force for about 20 minutes I suggested that my friend take the stick to see if he could work it loose from whatever was snagging it. He reluctantly took it, and as soon as he did, he yelled, “you’ve got something! Something BIG!” well, duh! Didn’t I say that about 20 minutes ago?  He immediately began pulling the line in with his hands, but being that there was a 20 foot drop to the river, it couldn’t be lifted up out of the river without the risk of snapping the line and losing whatever happened to be at the end. He handed the stick to me and told me to walk it along the wall until we got close enough to pull it out of the water. So there I was, walking an obviously big something downriver with about 5-7 strangers now gathered around watching for what I might pull from this muddy water.
After about 10 minutes I was able to get close enough to the water to allow us to pull the angry fighter to the edge to get a good look at it. It was the largest, ugliest, palest, dirty carp I had ever seen. OK, so I had never seen a carp before this one. But it was still pretty darn ugly. And BIG. And it was def the ugliest FISH I had ever seen.
Because we were still about 5 feet above the surface of the river, I had to continue my journey downriver with this mighty guy. I soon was stumbling over boulders, and could no longer hold onto my stick without ending up in the river with the fish. That would have been bad. Really bad. So I handed the stick to my friend so he could pull it out and we could figure out what to do with it. He was able to finally get it onto shore, but the carp was flopping around so much that he couldn’t get hold of it. I don’t know that I would have wanted to try to wrestle with it. The thing could have taken on mr. hulk Hogan and probably win. In hulk’s prime wrestling days.

The next thing that happened, I’m not sure I want to share with you all, but I will. I’m claiming right now a disclaimer that it was not me who actually did this, and I do not take responsibility for my friend’s actions. The next thing I knew I was holding my fishing stick, as my friend picked up a huge log-sized stick and began whacking this huge, defenseless, innocent carp over the head.  I screamed for him to stop, but he insisted that it would be the only way we could ever get it home. I told him there was no way I was bringing that ugly thing home, and more importantly, there was no way I was going to try to eat that thing. It came out of the missisippi, for goodness sakes!  In south Minneapolis! No way! No how! Nuh-uh! Not this girl. But he continued the brutality until the carp laid there, still and lifeless. Either it was a good faker, or it was dead. As a doornail. Poor thing. I kinda felt bad for it. Kinda.
Well, being that we had arrived at our fishing sight on motorcycle with no way to actually bring this large creature home, we decided to leave it there for the time being so we could come back with my friend’s car. As we were preparing to leave, we noticed several seagulls gathering around our catch, along with a number of homeless people. We took one more look at the beast before leaving, and one of the homeless kids who were there asked what we were going to do with the fish. We told him our plan, got on our motorcycle and left.
Upon returning to our fishing site about 10 minutes later, there was no sign of our fish. Anywhere. No seagulls. No homeless people either. they had all left the area. We drew the conclusion that because that jumbo beast was just way too heavy for any seagull we knew to fly away with it, it had to have been the homeless people who snagged it. They were eyeing it with a look of hunger in their eyes earlier, so it was a sensible conclusion.
I don’t know if my friend was actually going to eat that thing or not, but I knew I was not. But I do know it got eaten. Probably by those who needed it the most. I felt bad about how the thing died, but in the long run it was for a good cause. I just hope they enjoyed the cornmeal mush that was in its tummy. That probably was the only healthy part of the entire meal.  Mmmm yummy!
Not!

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