This morning at 9:00 a.m. the temperature was 66 degrees, the sky was overcast and gray, a light, but steady, rain was falling and the wind was out of the SSW at 5-8 mph.
The rain finally stopped at about 11:30 a.m. and slowly the clouds began to dissipate and blue sky began to emerge. By early afternoon it was sunny and humid, although the temperature never went beyond 74 degrees.
I had some business to attend to that kept me busy until after 1:00 p.m. Earlier in the day I had made arrangements to go into Bemidji to have the truck serviced, so that's what we did this afternoon.
Liz, Ashley and I left for town around 2:30 p.m. and as we made our way up Sucker Bay Road the sky began to cloud over and by the time we hit Cass Lake the rain had once again begun to fall.
While the truck was being worked on, the three of us walked around down town Bemidji. At 5:00 p.m., the truck was ready to pick up. After getting the truck we made a quick stop at Target and then drove back to the lake.
The entire time we were in Bemidji and the entire trip home the rain continued to fall. Finally around 7:30 p.m. the rain stopped, although the sky remained cloudy. We decided to go fishing at 9:00 p.m., despite the possibility of rain, and made our way over to the boat lift.
Once on the water we trolled The Alley in 8-10 feet of water. The water temperature was 66 degrees, the air temperature was near 60 degrees, the wind was at 5-8 mph out of the SSW and the moon was 3 percent waning; almost a new moon.
We made several passes, but with the exception of one rock bass, we caught nothing. I don't know what's going on, but ever since Liz and Ashley have been here the fishing has shut down completely. I was catching fish regularly until the past few days. The weather should be OK tomorrow, so I'm sure we'll try once again.
Despite the lack of catching fish, we had an enjoyable time on the lake this evening, and I'm sure that tomorrow we'll once again enjoy being out on the waters of Leech Lake.
Monday, July 20, 2009
The White Spot Tradition
The White Spot Tradition
The acrid smoke of the Lucky Strike straight
wafts its way into the backseat of the old car
My sister and I stand on the bench behind him
as he makes the short drive from the store
We get out of the car and make our way past
the heavy door into the dark, smoke-filled room
Music I don’t know plays on the jukebox and competes
with loud talking and the clacking of billiard balls for my attention
Greetings are made, big hands shake, orders are placed
including a cold beer for Grandpa and pops for my sister and me
I sit on a stool high above the sticky floor and watch
as they play pool, smoke cigarettes and drink glasses of yellow beer
Soon our name is called and big white bags are passed over the bar into Grandpa’s hands, money is exchanged and we move outside into the bright sunlight and smokeless air
Again we’re in the car and soon we’re climbing the back stairs of the store,
golden fried fish, crispy French fries, sweet Cole slaw and warm rolls grace our table
Grandma, grandpa, brother, sister start to eat a Friday night Catholic dinner
as the summer sun begins its descent after another memorable visit to Pete’s White Spot
The acrid smoke of the Lucky Strike straight
wafts its way into the backseat of the old car
My sister and I stand on the bench behind him
as he makes the short drive from the store
We get out of the car and make our way past
the heavy door into the dark, smoke-filled room
Music I don’t know plays on the jukebox and competes
with loud talking and the clacking of billiard balls for my attention
Greetings are made, big hands shake, orders are placed
including a cold beer for Grandpa and pops for my sister and me
I sit on a stool high above the sticky floor and watch
as they play pool, smoke cigarettes and drink glasses of yellow beer
Soon our name is called and big white bags are passed over the bar into Grandpa’s hands, money is exchanged and we move outside into the bright sunlight and smokeless air
Again we’re in the car and soon we’re climbing the back stairs of the store,
golden fried fish, crispy French fries, sweet Cole slaw and warm rolls grace our table
Grandma, grandpa, brother, sister start to eat a Friday night Catholic dinner
as the summer sun begins its descent after another memorable visit to Pete’s White Spot
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