This was the first trip I had planned with the boat since dad had given it to me earlier in the spring. This was also Jonathan’s first fishing trip ever. I took the boat to Lake Fannie near Cambridge, Minnesota. Benjamin (10 years old) and Jonathan (2 years old) were also with me. Both boys were very excited as we began our adventure. The day was beautiful, the sun was shining and the temperature was not too hot and not too cold. I got the bat packed up and we began our journey.
About three-quarters of the way there, we must have driven through a cloud of pollen. I began a sneezing fit that could only be described as uncontrollable. I was unable to stop. I was desperate to locate a gas station or a store that may sell allergy medication. I did finally locate a store (in Cambridge). By this time, “misery” would not begin to describe how I was feeling. I ran into the store and was taking the medication before I even made it to the checkout counter. At this point, every second counted. I was in such misery that I forgot to pick up bait. As we drove to the public access, I remembered this “minor detail”, but thought we could do some trolling. I got the boat packed, and began backing the boat into the water. I got the kids loaded, the boat off the trailer, the car parked and myself into the boat with no difficulties.
I began pulling the starter cord for the outboard. (I had tested the motor just weeks before the trip and it started just fine.) The outboard just would not start. I pulled and pulled to no avail. I choked and un-choked the motor. Nothing seemed to work. We drifted out into a weed patch. Other boaters were starting to “watch” us. After several minutes of trying to get the motor started I finally got it running (by giving the gas tank an extra prime or two) and we were off! Another few minutes went by without any trouble. The outboard then began sputtering (still running but sputtering). A few minutes later the problem was resolved when the fast idle knob was adjusted. This problem continued throughout the day, every few minutes – another adjustment.
We found a spot that looked like it might hold some fish, and dropped anchor. Without bait the fishing was poor. We did not even get a nibble. I thought trolling might produce more action, so we started trolling along the shore (still plagued by the idle screw). Things went fine for a while. We made it to the end of the lake and began turning back. On the way back, I let out more line and after a few seconds discovered that I had let out all the line on the spool. I looked behind the boat, and saw the lure floating on the surface of the water (along with several “loops” of the fishing line arcing out of the water) between the boat and the lure. I turned the boat around and cautiously made my way back to the line. Just when I thought I made it close enough to row, but far enough to not get the line tangled up in the prop, the line quickly disappeared under the water. Knowing exactly what just happened, I killed the motor and pulled up the prop. Just as I had expected, much of the line was around the prop. I did the best I could to untangle the line – discovering that somewhere in the middle of the line, it had been broken. I opened up the reel, tied what I thought was the correct line on to the reel, and began winding. Murphy’s Law would dictate that I did indeed have the wrong line (which I did). I detached the first line and retied the other line onto the reel. It was at that point that I realized that I did not feed the line thru the face of the reel, so I had to redo the whole process. When all was said and done, I had about twenty five percent of the line I had started with. Up to this point the boys were doing a fantastic job. Jonathan began falling asleep while sitting up. In his lifejacket, he looked like an underdeveloped turtle. As he fell asleep, his head began disappearing into his lifejacket, and because it was just big enough, the jacket held up his sleeping headless body. I had had enough. I decided to call it a day, and began heading back to the public access. I wanted to burn as much of the gas as possible so I began making large circles at full speed near the public access. The motor began bogging down ant this point. (Bad Gas – to the best of my determination.) We made it back to the public access alive, and unloaded the boat (uneventful).
On my way home, somewhere in Blaine, Mn. The car began to overheat and stall. We first stopped at a “Super America” along highway 65. I called Michele to let her know what was going on, and to let the car cool down. Thirty minutes later we were on the road again. This lasted until the car started stalling again somewhere on Interstate 35 near St. Paul. I just barley made it off the freeway when the car stalled again. The boys and I pulled over in a residential neighborhood and let the car cool for an additional 30 minutes. This seemed enough, so I started out again. I made it around the block before the car started stalling, so we stopped for another 30 minutes. By this time the car had cooled enough for me to get back on the freeway and (going very carefully) we made it to the 46 th St. exit off 35W in Minneapolis. The car once again started stalling, so I got off the freeway and pulled into a residential area – letting the car cool for yet another 30 minutes. After starting out again, I figured my best bet at this point was the side streets all the way home. I took Nicollet Ave South until I got to a stoplight on a steep incline, and (of course) the light turned red. The car stalled. I managed to nurse the car into a parking lot of a school, were we sat for another 30 minute cool-down. When I got brave enough to start out again, I stayed off Nicollet and took the side streets. We made it to about 62 nd St. when the car called one last time. One last 30 minute cool-down period, and we started out towards home again. We were able to make it from 62 nd and Nicollet to home without any further stalling of the car. Once I arrived home, I had an extra fifteen minutes before having to leave for work.
What an experience. I don’t know if I would change a thing. Both Benjamin and Jonathan were fantastic, and made this “terrible” trip “bearable”. It was fun watching Benjamin try to figure out what was wrong with the car, and Jonathan not sure what was going on, but trusting me enough to just go along with everything.
What a memory!
Pheasant Hunting - 2005
Saturday October 15, 2005 – Pheasant Hunting – Nawrocki Farm
Joe, Mike and I had decided on a date to do some Pheasant hunting on the farm. During the planning stages – it occurred to me that the Jonathan and Zachary (although not old enough to hunt yet) would love going along. I checked with Joe and Mike, and they liked it – then told the boys and they were climbing the walls with excitement for the week prior. Not long after – it was decided that Benjamin may be able to go, and the necessary arrangements were made (although he too would not be able to hunt). This would be the first trip I have made to the farm since Michele’s Uncle Jack did his wildlife rehab to the creek area.
We got our start and arrived at the farm about 10 am. We met up with Darwin before we went out (he owns the house where the farm building used to be) – and visited with him for a short time. He gave us some tips, and we head out.
The corn had not yet been harvested – so we knew ahead-of-time that the hunting would be poor.
We started hunting on the North side of the farm, along the property line where a couple of rows of corn was down. We made our way down to the creek, and then headed south between the West bank of the creek and the cornrows. About 2/3 the way back to the South boarder, we ran across 3 other hunters, hunting the farm. They claim to have been given permission from “???” the guy renting the farm from Jack. Nice enough guys – and they said they would leave so that we could hunt today. Not sure if that was the truth or not, but given the Chai Vang story last year, what are you going to do?
When we reached the south end of the farm, we used Darwin’s side of the fence to cross over the creek, and work our way back to the east bank of the creek, as we did so, Zachary fell into a sinkhole up to his knee. Mud covered every inch of his leg from the knee down, and oh, yeah… Did it smell!
We doubled back now on the East side of the creek, and made it all the way to the end, and crossed the creek on a small wooden “bridge” that made me a wee-bit nervous as I crossed it – but I did – without problems.
We decided to go for lunch, and return to the far South East corner of the property where some cornrows were removed after lunch.
As we walked west along the open cornrows, we saw nothing. We rested a bit when we reached the end, and then double-backed along the same path. We sent the boys thru a small strip of corn between the road and the fields that were still standing, and as they reached the end, they flushed out two deer. I did not get to see them, but Mike (who was between the corn and the road) said that they crossed in front of him and headed south into the next cornfield.
When we finished hunting, we did have some fun shooting the guns. Mike started off by showing the boys how “loud” a 20 gauge sounds, and then I showed them a 12 gauge. Joe also put a round thru his 12 gauge. I let each of the boys (Jonathan and Zachary) have a turn with the 20 gauge. Jonathan first – could just barely reach the front of the gun. I helped him steady it, and he fired it. Zachary was a little more nervous, and tried to fire the gun with one hand on the trigger and the other plugging his ear. (I was steadying the gun). I did not allow him to do so, and he eventually fired the gun correctly. Once his initial fear was over, he did not have any other problems. We plunked away with a .22 for quite some time, and I do believe that the boys really enjoyed that.
Uncle Mike did observe how disappointed Ben looked while everyone had their turn shooting, but I for one was VERY PROUD of how he handed it. Benjamin has shown lots of maturity in the past year, and this was one perfect example. I too know how much he would have loved a turn, but the rules prohibited it, and he followed the rules to the tee. I was very proud of him for that!
We decided we would have to come back and try again after the corn has been harvested.
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