Ed Carlson

More Coffee please.

tip_story_full:



Slower, slower, keep it slow now Ed, ya know Miss piggy walleye won’t chase a crank bait too dang far in this 36 degree water, now will she?

I need to remind myself of the basics often as my teeth begin to chatter and I become a bit impatient.

Not to say I talk to my self out here in the dark, maybe I do who knows really? It can be a lonely spooky business when the blanket of night surrounds you.

~ Snap-Crunch-Crunch ~

I wonder what that was? Ah, just some other hunter like myself slinking through the underbrush snapping twigs and rustling leaves, ya, that’s it? YA, but who or what, and hunting what, me?

"Naaaaa…Jeez Ed, get a grip!"

When my curiosity gets the best of me I will shine a flash light back there and take a look, but I hate to take the chance miss piggy is near, she don’t like sudden light’s or moon shadows, I can wait, a little bit longer.

~ CRUNCH! ~

Now dead silence, the kind that really makes ya nervous, that kind of silence

~ SNIFF ~ SNIFF ~

OK, ah, there is something right behind me now. I can feel and hear it sniffing my neck over the river bank wall, right behind my head.

This is bad, this is not good Ed, ok now what?

I decide to spin around then quickly flip on my hat light, and scare "IT" away, good plan ya?

"Do-do-do, ready, do-do-do, ready, do-do-do."

~SNIFF~SNIFF~SNIFF~

"Ah man!"

"Ok.....Ready....Spin and hit the light…NOW!"

I spin with cat like reflex’s while spontaneously flipping on the hat light, all the while balancing on a large chunk of wobbly rip-rap. Not an easy task I’ll tell ya.

The head lamp fires up as planned and there, not 12" in front of my face, peering over the bank, are two big vicious looking green eyes!

"EEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

*In retrospect, although I’m not entirely sure, a less them masculine noise may have fled my mouth into the silence of the crisp autumn night air. But let’s just say it was a grunt, ya I am certain it was a grunt, a manly kinda grunt, yup that's it a manly grunt.*

This strategic assault on the vicious green eyes results in a sudden loss of balance sending my arm’s flailing about, a spinning rod in one hand, while desperately clutching at the night air with my other free hand.

Flash light beam focusing on trees, then the water, then the rock, then the trees again, but not on the eyes. Those eye’s that were still peering at me from the bank. Yup, those mean looking big green buggers, those eyes.

I momentarily regain my composure, to again scan the bank for the big green vicious eyes. Unfortunately the light I so desperately was depending on now quits, darkness again surrounds me.

If you ever used a headlamp you know that if they ever fail you in a time of need the recommended procedure is a series of slaps to the head. This will get the light to again illuminate, if you’re lucky.

So now I commence to franticly beat myself about the head to regain the illumination that I now perceived to be my only hope of salvation from the vicious green-eyed menace, who was certainly about to devour me at any time now.

"SLAP...SLAP-SLAP..SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP!"

The last slap was the charm. Darn good thing too, a few more slaps just may have knocked me out.

Franticly scanning the light up and down the shoreline I again locate the "Big Green Vicious Eyes".

There they are those two big green eyes that are mounted on the head of a big stupid, yet completely harmless looking, black lab. Who now apparently thinks he found a new amusing friend in the night to play with?

~ WOOF! ~

"Ya…"WOOF" to you too, ya Putz!"

"Ah heck, you didn’t mean it did you bud?"

I give him a good rub on the head. His body heat was a welcome hand warmer in this chilly 30-degree night air.

Yup Uf-Da, fall walleye fishing at night, you just never know what to expect?

>From renegade beaver commandeering my boat, dogs lying in ambush, cranes landing on the boat bow or my shoulders, coon’s or weasels rummaging in the tackle box, and of course the ever vicious killer frog’s dancing in dry crisp leaves. Oh-ya, and not to forget my buddies the muskrat’s trying to eat my bootlaces. They all love to mess with my mind at night, but I truly do love it.

Time for more "HOT" coffee, yup-yup-yup, more coffee, that will help.

*Ah....And by the way, it was a strategic manly grunt. Not at all a girly-man type scream, honest.*


Ed "Backwater Eddy" Carlson...><,,>
 

Minnesota Fishing

Minnesota Fishing Reports

Minnesota Fishing Resorts