Guess who’s back? Yes, another installment of the fishing chronicles. I know you didn’t think I would give up that easy, did you? So let me tell you how I was pulled back in. (For new readers, you may want to take a second to glance over Fishing Chronicles 2.5 & 3).
This is the backdrop. A couple of the guys I coach with wanted to go fishing. Ok, that is the cover up; this is the real juice. We have a guy who’s kid plays on our team, and he helps with coaching. He is a younger cat, and is going through some marital problems. Well last Sunday we had a coaches meeting, which ended up bleeding into other personal issues/confessions (lol). So this guy was telling us his story, and somewhere in there he mentioned how his son has been asking him to go fishing, but he just doesn’t like it. Long story short, one of the other guys mentioned we should take all the kids out fishing, but I had no idea it would literally be the next week. So fast-forward into the story. Sunday arrives, and we meet up at my dude’s house. The guy who didn’t want to fish with his son gave some excuse to leave (go figure), so we ended up just taking the kid with us. We had three full vehicles, and we headed out 40 some miles to this spot one of our other coaches suggested. I took a photo (to the left) with my phone, but I didn’t capture all the trailers behind us.
Now let me pause here. He sent me a link of this place, and it looked as redneck as it wanted to be, but I chose to keep an open mind since we had some white people with us. However, with a vehicle full of blacks and another vehicle full of Mexicans…yea, I knew we would definitely be leaving that joker before dusk. So we drove around for a while, got lost, then finally found this spot. When we arrived, the mrs looked at me and said, “Are you serious? Is this it? We could have went fishing across the street.” She was telling the truth. And did I mention that you had to pay for this spot (which my dude covered for us). Seriously though, I felt like I got sucked into an episode of the Twilight Zone where I was in a makeshift town that was a cross between West Virginia & Arkansas. There was actually a trailer park attached, and I promise this place just looked like it was swarming with cousins off in the field humpin’ making noises together. It was so wrong. My kids seemed happy though, so I made the best out of it. We grilled, joked, and fished with the kids.
Now this is the place where you guys read to find out how I jacked myself up. Still no hooks in the ear, or me falling in. No red ants this time. My 4 yr old actually fell into thus mud part of the bank or…heck, I don’t even know what he fell into. I just know he came back to the table looking like dude off Predator when he was hiding with the mud on. All my boys ended up catching something. All of them (at one point and time), also caught a tree branch and I ended up having to keep cutting line and giving them a new hook…which I really still suck at tying. I looked at my dude, and didn’t want to be like, “Ooh, can you tie mine?” but I straight was thinking that. He was tying a spinner for his wife, it looked so sweet how he did it. I tried to pay attention, but I had to keep an eye on the kids, thus I was easily distracted. I caught one…but I just never saw it. Lol. I think the fish get a kick out of me. They always eat my bait off, or nibble then swim away. I thought I caught a monster at one point casting the line for my 5yr old, and that joker straight snapped. Man, my luck is just a mug. I left the open reel in the car because I wasn’t even in the mood for dealing with that type frustration.
It is about 5pm by this time, and my dude wants to leave to make it home in time for the Cowboys game. Why these little boys come riding through with these werewolf masks on trying to scare the kids. Well, they didn’t scare anybody except this one 2yr old girl with us. My buddy points at them and tells them to get the hell on somewhere. I guess this was entertainment for them. This probably won’t make sense unless you were there, but these were probably some 11-12 yr old kids at best. My dude is a crazy (thick) Mexican with a bad temper. So when he threatened them pointing, I thought that was the end of it. So we were packing, and we turn around…why was this kid standing there. The crazy thing is he wasn’t scared whatsoever. The kid stood there fearless, and in the most calm voice I ever heard in my life, he was like, “Dude, sorry about scaring your daughter.” He told the kid thank you for the apology still apprehensive about this kids demeanor (as I was). So the kid walks off, and my dude says, “WTF man? You see how he walked up on me?” I was thinking the same thing because this kid just appeared. I promise it was like those people off Texan Chainsaw Massacre. Like this kids family kills for a living (lol). I shouldn’t even laugh because that mess was crazy.
But that wasn’t the kicker. I sat in the car waiting for the other guys to gather their remaining belongings (looking over my shoulder for this psycho kid), and I saw the most euro-ghetto fabulous stuff ever. Visualize this. You are in a freshly cut field. Nothing but bugs, and trailer parks in site. Then you see this young boy ride out on a horse that looked like Black Stallion with a cowboy hat on like he was in the circus. I mean riding, and prancing and everything. Not just one ride through. I mean like he was preparing for the county fair or something. He was putting on a show for us. I told my wife that is like my people in the hood sitting on a Escalade with 22s…outside an apartment. Like dude this is no ranch…this is a trailer park. Guess you just had to be there.
So we are leaving this hick town, and this was the icing on the cake (yes there is more). I swear I couldn’t make this stuff up. There was a barn on the side of the road. I drove past it not really thinking too much about it (just trying to stay focused and keep the car between the white lines…lol), so we pass it and I hear my wife say, “Unt uh.” So I ask her what is up, and she guided my attention towards the barn. Why was the barn actually a church named SADDLE UP COWBOY CHURCH. If we weren’t following someone I would have stopped to take a picture to show you. Only in Texas baby. I can’t even hate though because heck at least they getting their praise on. Now I don’t want this post to seem like I am discriminating, but It was just eye-opening to me to see how others live. Redneck is like a term of endearment around here. For instance, they actually have an official Texas Redneck Games here that apparently drew thousands last year. Think I am lying? Click here.
I don’t know what it is about me and fishing, but I never have a dull moment.