Even after a month on the road, the invitation was too much to pass up. JD and I had some overlapping time off - a rarity, even if only for a day - and a favorite rendezvous point that nearly split our respective distance. It didn't take much to convince Victor, took a little more than that to convince my wife, but by midnight sunday we were basking in the glow of the fire, catching up on old times over cold beers. When the conversation turned to politics, about the same time the hands on my watch formed a perfect right angle, I knew it was time to call it a night. I pitched a pad in the bed of the tiny dancer and slept soundly until the sun broke through the morning haze and my pillow starting whining to be fed.
We pulled ourselves together slowly, JD working on breakfast while I fiddled with the french press. Eventually, after all the inefficient shufflings of a first day fishing camp, we loaded up the Tiny Dancer and made for the water.
The fishing was just good enough to keep us busy and the dogs entertained.
We fished into the evening and with a thunderhead moving in we were content to call it a good day and head back to camp. Somebody wasn't so willing to quit though.
The next morning I made the drive home in time for a full day of work, using those four hours behind the wheel to ponder ways to fill the time until the next road trip. The countdown to the Tennessee tour is under 2 weeks. It promises to be another potpourri of target quarry ranging from native Appalachian brookies to table scrap fed hoovers. The trip will culminate with the 3 Rivers Carp Cup, which we aim to bring back to Ohio with us. I've been toying with the idea of "live blogging" the tournament for you to follow, but we'll see what service is like in the Volunteer state first. Meanwhile I'm hoping to get out and dial in the finer points of my carp game this week, and I'll report back with the results.
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