Salmon Camp - blind squirrel catches one (and gets caught in the battery console)

Al and Gus ventured north this week to join me in the fall tradition of attempting to catch the salmon heading upstream. The streams/rivers themselves had fish to see but none caught by our posse. The lakes/bays, however, gave up the attached. The king salmon was taken out of Betsie Bay just minutes after we had the trolling rods out. Gus got the second fish, a coho salmon, out of Crystal Lake. 

On a funny/sad note, while fishing, we discovered what we thought was a (singular) squirrel/chipmunk making a home in Al's boat, specifically in the battery console area. Our thoughts were correct, however, it wasn't just one squirrel/chipmunk, it was three of them. We believe they made the entire trip from downstate. We tried our best to get them to flee, leaving the console door open with a trail of nuts. When Al and Gus left, I saw one below where the boat was that unfortunately didn't make it. Hoping the best for the other two furry travelers.

Trail Head

Striving to be Grand Poobah

While it might not be the equivalent of the secret handshake/men's only Water Buffalo club that Fred and Barney partook in back in the day (the episode where Wilma and Betty dressed as men to investigate the club was a classic), I recently became of member of the local Eagle chapter. Instead of the Grand Poobah, there is the Worthy President. Women are allowed. The pledge/initiation is more or less "be cool to others and don't be a dick." The benefits are a nice place to grab a beverage/meal when the tourist season kicks in high gear. The Worthy President who was reciting the pledge for me to repeat I thought was going to pass out as he had some serious cotton mouth while talking. Get that man some water.

Worthy Tim out.

Trail Head

Bird's Designated Belly Rubber

The town where I reside has quite a few retirees walking the streets in the morning. My dog Bird will normally just watch them all walk by except for one; her designated belly rubber. One walker who comes past the house pretty much at 8 AM each morning, give or take a few minutes, approached me and asked if she could pet Bird. Said belly rubber and her husband live a few blocks from Lake Michigan I learned so pet away, just leave that sweet house you have to me when you leave this funky planet we live in. 

So every morning at around 7:50 AM or so, you'll see Bird sitting right next to the curb waiting for her belly rubber, wagging her stump tail like a Pavlovian dog drooling as the belly rubber approaches with treats, some dog talk and about a five minute rub. 

If Bird could smoke, she would as she always looks like she just made woopee after the belly rubber leaves.

Trail Head