Blog Under Construction: Mr. and Mrs. Karlsson's Big Expedition
Sunday, May 05, 2013
Greetings. I am so fried right now. I wish I had good news on the fishing front, but we did not catch a single solitary alligator gar. We busted our guide's perfect fishing record. I feel bad for him, and I think this pretty much confirms that I am bad luck when it comes to fishing trips. Why do I believe we broke a perfect fishing record just because he said so? Let me tell you, when a man calls his buddy TWICE in one day to talk to him (because his buddy managed to haul in a whopper that morning), you know there is a problem. He didn't even want to accept full payment, so my husband paid him for the boat fuel, and he said he'd take us out again for half price. So we're going to do it again sometime in June.
Was I unhappy or irritated or disappointed at the outcome? A bit, but mostly for my husband's sake. I really wanted him to catch "the big one". But I also know that there's a reason they call it "fishing" and not "catching." Would I call it a wasted day? Absolutely not at all. It was the prettiest day I have ever spent in the great state of Texas. Time did not pass. It was the weirdest thing I'd ever experienced. We would sit in a spot and there was no indication that time was passing. It was as if we were contained in a little slice of the universe where time did not pass and things did not change but instead just "were". It was amazingly zen-like. The scenery was MIND-BLOWING, and I did get a photograph of someone else hauling in a six foot alligator gar. It was a behemoth. And we did manage to get a three foot needle nose gar tangled in the line by mistake. Those are surprisingly beautiful fish.
Pictures are forthcoming, and if I can figure out how to post video, my husband taped me losing a gar, which is actually pretty hilarious. I didn't realize alligator gar could spit bait out at you. Clever b@stards.
I would also like to point out that our guide, Bubba, could pilot his boat like the Millenium Falcon in an asteroid field. It was the most amazing thing I have ever experienced. I took a few pictures of the river at dawn, but the pictures just didn't do it justice. We rounded this one bend through the mist and everything went white and silver and it looked like one of those "head toward the light" moments. Amazing. And cold. I got wind burn AND sunburn AND severe dehydration because I was afraid to drink anything. Why, you may ask? Well, because I'd have to ashore. Why is that a big deal for someone who has used outhouses, caves, and been two inches deep in human excrement when the factory toilet exploded? Because there were ALLIGATORS. And it's getting on towards nesting season. And I saw a haul out spot for a 12 footer. NO THANK YOU. That's all I'd need would be to out powdering my nose and get chomped in the butt by an angry mama alligator. Imagine having to explain THAT to the paramedics. If I made it that far...
The one really bad thing about this trip is that it really made me see what kind of an asphalt h3ll that suburbia really is. I used to think our neighborhood was beautiful and our lifestyle was superior to anything I have ever known. And to a point it is. But down there, it was so peaceful, and quiet, and when you talk to people, you're talking to real people. You're not talking at (and yes, I do mean this to read "at") a polite facade, but to genuine people. I'm not saying there's no problems down there, because I'm pretty sure I'd never fit it (there is no Starbucks to be had!!! horrors!!! And I don't know how to shoot!!!) and I know too well what small town health care facilities are like, and we need to be close to the best we can find for my husband's sake. And I know I'd be bored out of my mind after a while. But... you know... I sometimes do miss the country.