Lake of a 1,000 Casts - Number Came Up

Lake of 1,000 Casts impact on the casting arm

I've wrote about the 'Lake of a 1,000 Casts' before. Dunham Lake, home of the 'Dunham Laker' (aka 13 3/4 inch bass). Pictured first here is the arm difference of the Dunham Lake angler (its actually a picture from one of my favorite movies, 'Idiocracy', making fun of the future of masturbation). 

The lake beats all others in terms of serenity but can be a temperamental one in terms of giving up fish. Like the prom, most anglers fishing the lake are getting blue balls. Once in a while though, with some prodding and maybe some flowers, the lake supplies some beautiful fish. Last night's fish brought about the 1,000th (more like 12,000th) cast around 9 PM as Gus and Jim brought in the attached 30 inch pike and 18 inch largemouth, respectively. 

Cast on Dunham Lakers.

Trail Head

Glass-man Memorial Fish

This year's annual Milford High dude hanging/fishing weekend was in tribute to the man who allowed 14 or so slappies from Milford to take over his home each second weekend of June for the past 20 or so years. The Glass-man, Dave C, passed last year. I felt something missing when we brought the boats in after the morning session Saturday and he wasn't there to greet us at the dock with some "Did you knock 'em down out there?" comment always at the ready with the smirk/smile a standard. A good man.  

The format for this year's competition no longer involved teams as the Class of '84 I believe got tired of getting their ass handed to them each year by the Class of '85. I'm still trying to grasp exactly what the format for this year's competition was as it appeared to be put together during a morning crap. For the prestigious angler of the weekend award, there was a morning and evening session on Saturday that counted. Thursday and Friday's fishing totals were excluded. Five best fish per boat. Fisherman A (we'll call him Jim D.) and B (we'll call him Tim R.) are in Fisherman C's boat (we'll call him Doke). Fisherman C catches what looked like one of the five best bass I've seen in some time. He culled three I believe while Jim and I more or less used the same lure but brought nothing to the table. With the new format, everyone in the boat gets credit for the fish poundage, regardless how many they caught. With that, our boat won the session and Fisherman B was in 1st place (tied with A and C); and $40 richer!......WITHOUT CATCHING A FISH!!! I am liking this new format at this stage of the weekend. 

Fast forward to the evening session where more new rules came out of the woodwork in that people couldn't fish with anyone they fished with in the morning. Seems simple but digging deeper into this new rule, I jumped on a boat where someone tied for second was also fishing. That person was screwed as if they had the best ever 15 pound fish bag, I would win (I didn't win). Jim D. did the same, brought something to his boat totals in the form of a 16 inch smallmouth, and his boat took the evening session. The Cinderella story from Sparta takes the weekend victory!   

Positives and negatives to the new format.  Anyone can win. Even fishing challenged individuals like myself can jump on two boats where others are catching solid fish, not catch one myself, and get awarded angler of the weekend (and $80 extra in my wallet). Negatives are Doke had a once in a decade bag of bass and got an atta boy for his efforts. Its a thankless job in trying to make everybody happy though. 

The angler of the weekend wasn't the only award up for grabs as there always has to be a big fish award. This year's big fish winner also utilized a new rule where fisherman could weigh and release any pike or other fish on the spot that might beat up the live well. A picture would need to accompany it. The suspicious meter was beeping when the big fish winner was the one who came up with the new rule and his fishing mate seemed to steer away from any comments surrounding said fish. I have it pictured below next to a pike Al caught (and should have weighed). The sheet said 4 pounds, 11 ounces but that is a lean looking 4 pounds if you ask me.  

Roger's big fish* to the left: Al's non-weighed to the right

Fishing rules on the fly aside, a great weekend as always. I quadrupled my quota (one) but peaked on hitting the big ones Friday night. Campfire discussions involved creative lyrics/great music, ripping on music player playlists, building ships in a bottle while listening to Gordon Lightfoot, a review (again) of the '83 high school football season, jokes about marmalade/jam, jokes about Jamaica/WENDY (do a search on the joke), jokes, jokes, and more jokes about EVERYTHING (amazed that people can retain jokes like that) and many, many "Did So-and-So go to sleep?" references. It seems like a contest for some to make it up the latest and monitor everyone; but then I remember that I'm hanging with "Dads" so they always have the monitors going (ha). If someone is on the afternoon shift to buzztown, let them go down early. 

With this group, some of whom are company leaders, it can be a chore to get your two cents of words in once a few soda pops are consumed but I was able to get Champ to beat his record of five seconds of silence as he doubled it; but lost it at ten while I attempted to tell a story. Baby steps Champ.

Thanks, as always, to Judy C. for putting up with these AARP individuals.

Trail Head

victory for Jim D.!

peaked on positive output Friday night

Roger explaining another new rule

Hotel Skegemog

Bad Pictures - We're Spoiled

looked in focus when I took it...

For every 10 or so cool pictures, there are always a handful that you thought while taking them were going to be the entries into the world photo contest...and they ended up looking like turds once you viewed them online. With that, I present to you my turd pictures from this past weekend's Milford Bike Fest as turds need love too.

We are so spoiled in the digital age with the picture taking flexibility as who gives a hoot that a picture doesn't come out? You delete and take another. Back in my youth (queue the Way Back Machine), it was a chore to take pictures as besides only having 12, 16 or 24 picture attempts per film if my memory is correct, you had to haul that film up to the pharmacy for processing. At the end of a vacation/trip you always had a few extra pictures available on the film but want to get the existing pictures developed so what do you do? Take a shi#load of bad pictures to drain the film. The 'selfie' was not a word yet (thankfully) and not as many people were sending pictures of their junk (thankfully) because by the time you had said picture taken, developed, mailed (regular mail, no internet yet), the thrill was gone.

Smile for the camera. 

Cheese!!!! (Who is the moron that started the "say cheese" trend?)

Trail Head

thank you Mr. Tree

blur on sherbet rider

How Not to Cry During a Eulogy

The godfather of the insurance industry passed this week, off to the AAA office in the sky, selling hell protection to anyone and everyone with a free John Reeves pen to all! My Dad will be missed, that is for sure.

As his son, I had been preparing for this moment about a decade ago when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's/Dementia. It's up to me to tell his friends and family his story; the eulogy. Anytime I thought of some story from whenever, out came my phone and would make a few notes about it to jog my memory when it came time to compile the master story compilation. It's easy to compile stories and public speaking was not going to be a problem as I've done many presentations over the years. Emotions, however, cannot be understated. You can try your best but if you're crying, those stories are not coming out. 

You can't let the dude down who did so much for you so cry I would not. In preparation, I went to a place where everything is the truth (insert sarcasm), the information superhighway. I entered "how not to cry during a eulogy" and got some good pointers and added a few of my own:

- Breath, breath, breath. Key. Once that hyperventilating starts, its all downhill.

- Practice, practice, practice. I talk to myself at home anyway so I got to hear the speech a few times.
- Liquid nearby. Check. Dry mouth and speech do not mix.
- Write the eulogy/summary but don't read it verbatim. Tell a story. You don't have to hide behind the podium either. Give the story some action.
- Get a good cry in when you're writing the eulogy. Check.
- Check your crowd beforehand and identify the known crier. Do NOT look towards said person when you're talking.  
- Get in the sports/competitive mindset and make it a game you really want to win and will not be denied. A mission to get the stories told.
- Your Dad is counting on you. Enough said.

I've also had the good fortune to be friends of two of the greatest story tellers of their time, Jim M. and Gus. Jim likes working the larger crowds (he's available for wedding toasts) while Gus can work a story for a group of 10 or fewer like none other. I channeled both of their abilities on Tuesday. 

I am happy to report that the stories got told and the pride of Detroit Cathedral Central got the proper send off. 

Enjoy your unlimited mulligans Dad. 

Trail Head

Two Pictures, Two Fish Stories

Every picture tells a story they say and these two pretty much say it all. 

To the left we have my quota for today's NoMo charity kayak fishing tournament. After jumping from Long Lake over to Pontiac Lake earlier in the morning (any public lake is eligible), I got the noted 16 incher around 9 AM on a green pumpkin tube setup. Thoughts of prize money rolled through my head. A thank you text went out to Al and Doke who gave me some pointers on using said tube lure. The NoMo would be mine with my new "secret" lure (that everyone has probably known about and been using since I've existed on this planet). But it was mine today! Or so I thought as the 9 AM action was it for legal fish in the session as the north winds kicked it up a notch.

This leads us to the picture on the right. While I was slapping myself on the back on Pontiac Lake, sending my thank you text out and thinking about my victory speech, Al and Doke were doing the motorized fishing experience on Lake St. Clair; probably going for the net again as my text came through as both limited out on walleye. And we're not talking about the wimpy, one boat with 18 poles trolling along, snagging anything in their way, fishing experience (blah). These two cast their keep. Real fishing. 

Trail Head

Hunting Via Bicycle

No, I don't hunt as the last time I can recall shooting a gun was 6th grade camp at Proud Lake Recreation Area; 1978 I believe. There weren't any ribbons presented that week for my shooting prowess as it was not my calling (there weren't ribbons period as we weren't wimpy millennials - ha) .

If it was my calling, however, there would be no starving individuals in my house as I seem to be the pied piper on the bicycle in attracting what could be a delicious turkey dinner with some venison sausage as an appetizer. Word probably leaked on the deer/turkey community's social media site of my lack of marksmanship so there is no fear when I come through I guess.  

Trail Head 

Dragging Ass

Sometimes the mountain bike gods choose to shine on others as they certainly weren't shining on me yesterday at the Mud, Sweat & Beers race in Traverse City. I can pull out the book of excuses as it has many to choose from but will just chalk it up as a day to enjoy the many forms of riders passing me; the hardcore, the Cinemax soft core, the fat tires, the single speeds, the elders, the teens. They all dropped by.

Within the attached short clip you get to see/hear (need sound on): the start, a snow visual (yes, still some bits of snow up north) followed by a need for more cowbell, throwing an F-bomb call out to an upcoming hill, several pro racers passing me (on your left, on your right, sit tight spandex dude), severe camera wind going down a hill and a finish line plunge into Max's Mud Pit. 

Great day, even with a dragging ass.

Trail Head

mud pit prior to finish line

the herd preparing

still some snow in Michigan