Dealing With The Shack Nasties

Work, weather and side projects have been conspiring against me and my quest for time on the water of late. I'm not letting it get to me (read: I haven't jumped yet). I've grown accustom to dealing with the Shack Nasties over the course of 24 Cleveland winters and have become fairly adept at getting my kicks via other means.

A little company never hurts either, so the boys and I have been rounding up the fur and feathers, spinning a few bugs and swapping stories in lieu of actually fishing. Last week we even imported a couple of Beauty Salon alumni to join the fun as Jeff and JD were in town for a brief visit. On Sunday we got the whole crew together for a night of shenanigans out at The Conneaut Creek Club.

The good times spilled over to Monday morning, with those of us who were up to the task taking a crack at the clays course. Scores shall remain undisclosed, but let's just say we all managed to keep our names off the outhouse, with Jeff posting an 8/10 on the final station to notch the victory.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group headed to the trout pond to lick their wounds and to their credit coaxed up a few consolation prizes through the ice.

JD and Jeff managed to squeeze in some time on a body of [barely] moving water during their stay as well. Despite the standard adverse conditions, at least one of them (no names, please) managed to secure a new Facebook pic for their efforts.

While I would have loved for those guys to pull on a mess of fish during their stay, by all accounts being able to catch up in person far outweighed the crummy fishing. Without much to look forward to locally, there's been a lot of talk about travel recently. Dates have been set for Alex and I to make a return trek west, I'll be hosting a July trip to Montana with Linehan Outfitting Company (who wants to join me? details coming soon), and a West Branch reunion appears imminent. There have also been whispers about a NOLA redfishing expedition and dare I say, a honeymoon in Belize? As you might imagine, that ball is in the future Mrs. Lampros' court.

Oh by the way, there was a Dudewater birthday this weekend! Haven't gotten a full recap but sounds like there was no puke in the stripping basket this time around... bummer.