Fishing Trip I Will Never Forget It was a blistering summer day. My buddy John B. and I decided to head up to Clear Lake in northern California. We knew it would be hotter there, hot enough to melt the plastic baits we fished with to our tackle boxes, but we loved the lake and the promise of lunker bass it kicked out. This day was different though, it wasnt about the greenbacks or the monstrous cats that lurk in Californias largest man-made lake. It wasnt about slab Crappie or Bluegill usually abundant on the lake. This would be about the most embarrassing day in the 60 years of my life. John and I launched out of the north end of the lake next to a sandy beach without any dock, just a ramp and a nice beach where kids could feel the sand between their toes. A place to catch some rays and let the sun warm your body. Clear Lake has a good deal of retired folk that seem to be attracted to this area, I imagine it helps to temporarily rid one of arthritic pain. We had been out for 10 plus hours straight fishing. Both of us pretty exhausted, John wore khaki slack and a t-shirt with tennis shoes and a baseball hat. I as always wore a t-shirt with nylon jogging shorts, the lined type so no undergarments. Lighter and more comfortable and cooler, and of course flip flops and a baseball cap. We were in my Ranger 363V, red metal flake trimmed in black on a white base. An Evinrude 150 pushed us around all day. We were wind and sun burned to a crisp. We decided to call it a day and I told John I would troll in until I thought it was shallow enough to get into the water and I would get the trailer, bring it back, and he could put the boat on the trailer. John acknowledged that was fine. As I trolled into shore I could see a little old lady sitting at the edge of the soft sand with her legs crossed in front of her. I was still about 200 yards away, but I knew the lake is shallow in some areas. I got to about 150 yards out and looked and thought it was getting shallow and told John about another 75 yards and I was going over side and again John acknowledged. Now 70 - 75 yards I told John to come up front and take over the trolling motor. I carefully slid one leg over the side of the boat not realizing I was about to experience the most embarrasing situation ever. I swung my other leg into the water and realized the crotch of my jogging shorts had caught on one of the boat cleats and now the crotch of my jogging shorts was now up around my neck while my wedding tackle was now on display for this little old lady on the beach!!!!!!!!!! As I dangled there, in more ways than one, I looked for John, who was now in the middle of the boat rolling on the floor laughing, obviously no good to help with my predicament. My shorts now acted as a vice against me and the two boys that are crazy neighbors of my manhood and would not allow me to reach my knife so that I could sever the crotch of my shorts. At this time I did consider severing other items as I was so embarrassed. It felt as if I had lived the whole 10 plus hours there on display for this lady. Finally John managed to gather his composure and hand me my knife at which time I cut the crotch and gracefully fell into the water. It was not the end there. I still had to get the trailer and the beach as I stated earlier is not that big. By the time I cut myself out of the situation, I gathered myself up and still had to walk as proudly as I could the remaining 35 feet onto the beach and past a smiling, red faced woman that kept a fixed stare at my now drooping crotch with only a whispering shaky voice she said hello! I could not even respond, all I could hear in the background was Johns laughter.
Posted on: Tue, 20 Jan 2015 23:47:33 +0000
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