It was not quite 6 a.m. I quietly maneuvered the boat away from the dock and out onto the lake.
鈥淭he far side, about half way down the lake, past the marker, is where they鈥檝e been biting,鈥� Rick said. He has been at the lodge for many years, so you listen to a guy like that.
It鈥檚 so quiet you can hear the forest breathing.
A couple of deer are at the water鈥檚 edge and just look up and watch as I pass by. Loons glide by within feet of the boat and it seems as if they nod 鈥榞ood morning.鈥�
An eagle skims the water then sweeps up to a higher perch for a better vantage point.
It鈥檚 been over 50 years since I have been on this lake but it has fared much better than I and hasn鈥檛 lost one bit of its natural beauty.
I am not the impatient youth I was back then and I try to recall if I had noticed any of these things from the boat as a teenager.
The sparkle of the sun disappears and a breeze drops the temperature. Dark clouds are rolling in from the direction I鈥檓 headed and suddenly the rain charges around the point. I pull my heavy jacket over my shoulders which helps a bit, but for 10 minutes it pours down, then moves on.
I see some sun ahead and point the bow in that direction.
I have almost forgotten my fishing rod until it twitches then bends.
I kick the motor into neutral and set the hook. The fish breaks water about 50 feet behind the boat and I reel it in. As it gets closer, the sun reflects off her rainbow sides and then she tries to slip under the boat. Eventually she is in the net and in the boat, a 14-inch rainbow trout.
I am a big believer in catch-and-release, but this one is coming with me to fulfill my memory of a fresh trout in a cast iron frying pan full of butter. The next two hours are uneventful but trolling back and forth, exploring small bays and skirting scenic islands makes for a pleasant morning.
Back at the dock, Rick greets me and I hold up my prize feeling a lot like Captain Ahab would have felt if he had dragged his great white whale ashore. We discuss the catch and I head for the frying pan.
Later in the morning I鈥檓 down by the lake with a coffee and a fellow camper stops and asks, 鈥淎re you the guy that caught the rainbow this morning?鈥�
This is what getting out of town is all about. As the morning rolls on, I am not the 鈥榝ormer fire chief鈥� or 鈥榯hat guy who writes for the paper.鈥�
I am the guy that caught the rainbow trout.
They ask where I caught it, what was I using, how deep was I 鈥� as if a duplication of my scenario will pay off for them as well. But anyone who has spent time fishing knows there is more dumb luck involved than there is any type of science.
The only thing I know for sure is you can鈥檛 catch trout from your couch at home, you have to be out on that misty, morning lake.
Fifty years between visits is way too long.
At least that鈥檚 what McGregor says.
