Perdition

Robert Traver had a wonderful essay in "Trout Madness" entitled :sinning against spinning. I should have listened.

I decided to head down to the Maumee River for another fruitless quest of trying to figure out how to catch smallmouth from that river. I did something I have not done since about 1989- took a spinning rod as a backup and some sure-fire plugs. I reasoned that I could still fish if the wind came up, and there is a spot that I wanted to try but could not fly fish effectively. Oh I paid dearly for this heinous breach of ethics.

0700- On my way, decided to stick with the fly rod. Tradition! Skill! Aesthetics!
0730- Changed my mind, decided to explore vast areas by using the spinning tackle.
0731- dash lights coming on, no radio or fan. Turned for home.
0800- car dies on route 23, barely make to the prison exit.
0800-0830- no phone number for roadside service. Call wife who gives me the numbers. No pen and paper. Trace numbers with finger in mud on side of car.
0830-0930- waiting for tow truck just outside of Federal prison near Milan. Corrections officers inform me that I am on Federal property. Tell them its OK because I am a federal employee, and nearly end up inside rather than outside. They were actually nice and quite helpful once I told them the story.
0930-1000 ride to service. Had to endure comments from driver like "wow, never had to tow a Honda before. Thought they were good cars". Yep, I've towed, Fords, Chevys, Dodges, Fiats, Saabs, ..., and even a Bentley but never a Honda."
10-12:30 sit in Firestone store. No glasses to read mags, had to watch talk shows.
12:30 on my way with a new alternator and with 500 bucks less than I started the morning with.
12:45 call to little princess telling her that her car is fixed. Berated for allowing battery to be disconnected and kicking in the radio anti-theft disabling system. Now she has to go out and punch in a key code. Oh the humanity.
1:00 arrive at weirs rapids, start fly fishing.
2:00 Nothing, decide to go back to the car and try the spinning tackle.
2:01 Step off a ledge into water over my head. The first serious dunking of my fly fishing career. Actually a swim. No danger, but the only thing that stayed dry was my hat. Horror of horrors dropped the rod but grabbed it on the way down. Water was murky, and it was only 30 feet from a spot where I had waded previously.
2:20 strip off filled waders, discover pants are around ankles, and I am in a State park. Indecent exposure citation avoided, but it was close.
2:21 A person I did not want to talk to really wanted to talk to me and be my friend. undoubtedly a misinterpretation of incident at 2:20.
2:22 While drying off, discover hordes of mosquitoes are still extant in Ohio in September.
2:30 discover that brand new soaked fresh can of Copenhagen has swelled and exploded inside waders. Oh and look at all the wet remote control keys on the sopping key ring! And what were those receipts anyway?
2:45- decide to try another spot and wet wade. Drive to spot, arrive at 3:00
3:01 discover the plants growing beside the car are nettles. Yet another amazing discovery this day: even brown dried up nettles can sting.
3:05 discover that although air temps are near 80 F, it is too cold to wet wade. There are mosquitoes here too.
3:06 realized that my wading boots fit better with socks and waders
4:00 nothing. Not a strike, swirl, rise, take, or even a look see. Bait guys just downstream are skunked as well.

Decided to give it up and come home. I will never touch a spinning rod again.

Good points: I got some cool aquarium rocks. The car really needed a new alternator, and I was fooling myself that it was just a low battery from not being driven. Better me than my wife or daughters stuck someplace. I have a job and can actually pay for car repairs. So many do not. I did get to watch a show with Rachel Ray and got a good recipe for potato medallions wrapped in prosciutto. Filled princess car with cheap Ohio gas to take the sting out of having to reprogram the radio.

Now the fishing part. I need to talk to someone who fishes the Maumee to find out how they do it. Maybe even a guided trip. The river has a good reputation for bass, but I can't connect. In three trips the best I have done is two small fish and a sullen look by a larger one before he took off for Lake Erie. The mystery of the Maumee remains unsolved.