Still Fishing...

One other thing while staying at the lake that comes to be expected is putting out jug lines.  Okay, I know this falls under #2 of the last post "fishing" but jugging is a little more work.

I am in charge of driving the "A$$ Tracker", (I know, I know) up close to the bank while Ryan unwinds and baits the homemade jugs.

Each jug is made from a floating pool noodle, cut into three sections.  We measured out three different lengths of string, tied on 3-4 large hooks at different depths, added a weight and attached them to three different colors of noodles.

Totaling in at around 36-40 jugs total, if I do the math correctly, that is 108-120 hooks that need to be baited, by hand (only that of Ryans, remember, I like to see the fish, not touch them).

And here is the kicker...

You have to check your jugs every 3-5 hours.

So in the middle of the night, you are out cruising the lake, alone, guided by the light of the moon, praying you dodge any stumps, and hoping that there are at least some fish on the line making it worth your while for getting up at 3 a.m. while on your vacation.

The really scary, and probably neurotic part is hoping that a car doesn't come flying off of the bridge and land in your lap.

 I can't help but cringe every time the lights of an 18-wheeler shine above, roaring towards us.  

The worst is when there are railroad tracks above your head and it is way past midnight.

Chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga is all you hear in the distance, quickly approaching.  Think of walking under a bridge with a single truck passing overhead, now multiply that by box car after box car.  

You just know that if the train doesn't derail, the bridge will definitely cave in.

So as you can tell, a little more work, both physically and mentally, is involved with jugs.

Our friends joined us throughout the week and they were the lucky ones to watch the sunrise without seeing the back of their eyelids the entire night.

Since somebody had to take care of the sleeping baby, I gladly stayed back and got some sleep.

Here are a few jugs that Ryan, Ethan and I set out by the bridge.  We left these out for four hours and then Ryan went out, alone, which is even scarier, and pulled them up before we went to bed.

This is what makes all of that stress worth it!

Seeing your jug floating straight up is a good sign that you've hooked something, and the anticipation of pulling up your treasure is a lot of fun!  Of course we took the catfish to see Ethan the next morning to get his thoughts.  

I am sure when he pointed he said something like dah or hoy.  

Which in baby language meant something like

 Nice job, Dad!

I am sure he will grow out of it, but he isn't to sure of what to think about the fish.

 Okay, Mom, I am done. 

No more fish for me. 

You have to label your jugs with your information like name, address, phone number, dress size, and you are only allowed to check your own jugs that you put out.  I've been told that it is illegal to go checking what isn't yours and that makes me even nosier about the whole situation.  There is so much of me that wants a peek at what is hooked onto that line, just because I like to see the fish.  I definitely wouldn't keep it or unhook him, I would simply take a peek and put him right back where I found him. Promise. 

But I guess I will have to continue watching the other "A$$ Trackers" pull up their loot through my binoculars.