|
|
Interesting fact: There are more rocks in Trout Lake than there are grains of sand in all the oceans of the world. That’s how it seems to me when we snorkel the shoreline.
I saw schools of perch fingerlings, already with their characteristic vertical bars. There is no color to them underwater, only the brown and green of the water with some contrast. Maybe that’s camouflage. The original Perch Rapala from fifty years ago would look like that underwater. So would the new, life-like (“Yellow”) Perch Rapala. Not so much the Firetiger Perch that has become ubiquitous over the past 35 years.
Into view, just under the surface, come the pups’ legs and bodies, digging, digging, and crisscrossing in front of me, trying to get my attention. Foxy with the long, brilliant white legs. Bone thin – she can’t keep weight on in the summer, even though she eats her body weight in Chow every two weeks. Daphne, out of her element, but “givin’ it a goo,” as the Irish say. Peppy at ease, a swaying mass of hair like a blonde Lady in the Water.
Foxy, swimming in the back, Daphne smiling in front and Peppy, happy and wet in the middle, made a day of lure hunting with James Egan, their young man they take care of and watch over.
I have to clear my mask of water every couple of minutes; the water gets in through the hairs on my Metallica mustache. The process involves tipping your head up so the water level is at about your eyes, pushing the mask tight to your forehead with one or two hands, and blowing air out hard through your nose. The air and water is forced out of the mask and then a vacuum is created again.
Flippers are optional. Uncomfortable flippers, by experience, are not an option. Grab a paired snorkel and mask. I’m a freeze-baby, so I wear neoprene Farmer Johns and a surfer’s long sleeve over that. I wear neoprene booties because, of course, my flippers aren’t comfortable.
Strange how you can identify the waterlogged tree types that litter the rocky bottom, especially along the windward side of the lake. Birch are still paper birch; aspen and cedar are stringy. There are spruces with the many knots, and maybe a big old time.
Again, I don’t find any lures in the rocks or stuck on the logs. In fact, I’ve found more (one) inside the cedar woods just off the shore than I have on the lake bottom itself (zero). That one was a Firetiger Perch Rapala, an SR5, or Shad Rap, medium-small size.
Maybe the best part is resting on a sunken boulder and finally taking off the mask, breathing normal again, taking off the uncomfortable flippers and throwing them towards shore. Taking off the booties, the long sleeve and the now-hot wetsuit, and being out in the lake feeling cold in the water. And coming out feeling like you’ve just had an astringent bath, feeling the cleanest you’ve felt in your life.
Leave a Reply